Well, Linne called me out on being a farmer. Nat's Mom apparently knows the truth about me. I did try it out. Last year. I put on my jeans, I even bought overalls, and I put on my work boots and my blue cotton work shirts, grabbed my gloves and my hat, and reported to the kitchen for work at 8 a.m. every day. For a year. It was the year Glen and Ruth were working at the sugar factory in the winter and the Ditch in the spring/summer. That was the year I thought Grover needed help and I was his only hope. After 10+ months of that routine, I discovered something. Farmers/Cowboys are solitary workers. They have tractors and big equipment to do the work we amateur farmhands think will be help to them.
I spent more than a month clearing the corral of wire and wood and debris. Not too long after that I watched in amazement as Glen drove a bulldozer through and shoved it all into one big pile. In 15 minutes or less. Boy, did I feel stupid. I did the same thing, tearing out a quarter of the brush behind the corral so we could get to the fencing to tear it down. Again, since I had started the job, Glen came through with help and took out the whole fence and all the remaining brush with....the bulldozer, again. Now, I know why the farmers love their equipment! All those farm sales are just heaven to them. And I know, too, why their wives go with them happily to the auctions. They are just as happy to stay in the house making some dinner for their dynamos.
I guess the real value was this: Start something too big to finish on your own, and maybe someone will get it done. At least I got things started. Fighting inertia is a real uphill battle. Especially 10+ years of it.
After that first year, and this year with the help of Glen and Ruth, the real deal farmhands, Grover has been just fine working on his own...farming and ranching. And yes, Linne, you are right. I live on a farm. Occasionally I have to go out and encourage (we call it herding) the cows to go through the open gate. Once in a while I have to drive a tractor to fertilize a field--30 minutes max. But I am no farmer. I think that is in the blood. I would rather stay indoors to tie a quilt, or read, or blog. Don't even get me started on the mosquitoes!
At heart, I am a still a California beach girl. Sadly, the closest thing we have to a beach is the sandy shore of the lake at Horseshoe Bend. And somehow I can't seem to talk my best friend into going out there to play. I'd go alone, but it's 12 miles plus and kind of deserted. I would like some company. Anyone?
My only wish....sun and sand, and it's so close and so far.
1 comment:
Oh dear, now I've offended all the farmer Howes. I didn't mean you COULDN'T be a farmer if you wanted, I just see you as more hip and urban and, well, social. I am already in awe of your fix it up abilities, your wit and wisdom, and your evident faith and kindness, I just didn't think you would get all those gifts and get to be a farmer too!
We have a big yard (not Wyoming standard big, CA big) and a garden, and I'm terrible at all of it. I keep the blackberry bushes at bay and try to harvest a few vegetables, but I don't have an innate ability. I would love to run to Horseshoe Lake with you.
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