Happy In Bag

Thursday, August 28, 2008

Back On the Farm

I've never baled hay, driven a tractor or fed cattle. This might be the source of a vague sense of displacement I've felt my entire life. I'm the first male in my family who has never toiled on a farm. While my father and both of my grandfathers eventually found their way to towns and cities, as boys and young men they spent their summers tending crops. Although farmers are joined by rural preachers and country schoolteachers on my American family tree, there's little doubt that these ancestors also got their hands dirty in the fields. I'm glad I'm not out posting holes at this moment, but my genetic code is telling me that's exactly what I'm supposed to be doing.


  • At 4:51 AM, Blogger Donna said…

    When I was growing up in the '50's in Kansas City North, at least 3/4 of the kids in my school (including me) went to a farm someplace to visit grandparents, on holidays.

    Back then, farms were varied, interesting places with chickens, pigs, cows, kittens in the barn. These days, a farm consists of acres and acres of corn and soybeans, often with no animals in residence.

    I feel sorry for kids today. I wonder if they've ever heard the old song, "Over the river and through the woods to Grandmother's house we go." I used to sing that, on the way to visit Grandma.

  • At 8:21 AM, Blogger the unthinking lemming said…

    Was out west and saw some big ol' wind threshers just the other side of Salina. The new age farm?

  • At 2:20 PM, Blogger Happy In Bag said…

    Different times, for sure, Donna.

    Yeah, I love those, UL. There's an even larger wind farm near Dodge City. As they say, there's nothing nothing to stop the wind between Amarillo and St. Paul but barbed wire.


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