Fall Harvest-A Time for Joy

It’s fall harvest time.

A time of year that I personally love.

Something about the crisp fall air and the hustle and bustle of farmers to get their crops out of the fields before winter hits… I just can’t help but feel happy. Maybe it’s just the season- the time of year that thankfulness is on everyone’s mind or the excitement of winding down one year and beginning a whole new year. Whatever it is, the past five years I have grown to adore fall harvest.

Yesterday, what should have been a great day of celebrating my son’s second birthday-was a rough day. Between news of the Las Vegas shooting, my grandfather in law having had his arm crushed working on some of our equipment and yet more sad news coming from my hometown. Days like yesterday- where nothing seems to be going right, all the news is bad, and so many people around are hurting it’s easy to lose the joy. It’s so easy to lose the focus of the good only see the bad.

Yesterday evening, however- standing in the hospital room with my family I was reminded once again to find the joy. At the news of Bob’s accident we had friends who had gone to the field after Nick and Bob headed to the hospital to make sure that everything was shut down and taken care of then came to the hospital to check on us. We had neighbors dropping by and making sure we didn’t need anything. We had people on the phone in an instant wanting to know what they could do to help us keep harvest going and get wheat planted. We were all inundated with calls, texts, snapchats, facebook messages, and drop ins- a show of support. Despite the sadness that was in the air all day and the chatter, not just amongst us, but all over the hospitals and on the T.V.s  I remembered that there is far more good. There is more love than there is hate. There is more care and concern than there is selfishness. There are more heroes than villains. Sometimes our vision just gets clouded.

This morning I woke up and kissed my husband goodbye as he left. I drove past him as he was back in the field planting wheat. If weather permits I will haul supper to the field this evening as harvest has resumed. We will stand around the vehicles and laugh and eat- we may even talk about yesterday’s events. We will wave at the other trucks hauling their grain to town. Harvest will go on. Life will go on. We will not let the blinders of bitterness creep over us- we will not let darkness steal our light… and we will not let hate steal our love.

Happy Harvest, ya’ll.

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It’s “That Time” of Year Again…

This morning as I was getting ready for work, my husband says to me “I’m probably going to be late tonight… and tomorrow night… probably the next night too.” I knew it was coming. It’s “that time of year.” But it never fails- I always get just a slight sense of disappointment- and annoyance.

I know- and knew coming in to this marriage that there would be a lot of late nights and early mornings. A lot of times he would go to work before I was out of bed for the day and wouldn’t be home until long after I had gone to sleep. Deep down I know that’s just part of it- part of this glorious life we live as farmer’s and rancher’s wives. It’s hard sometimes.

As a farmer’s wife with a town job, it’s easy for me to forget just how hard my husband works to make everything work. It’s almost a knee-jerk reaction to feel like I’m doing more or that my workload is somehow unfair. It’s not. When I’m running late in the morning because I had to get myself and my child clothed and fed and out the door by 7:30 (that rarely happens) to be to work by 8 it’s so easy for me to complain in my head about how if someone would just help like put clothes on the tiny human or something, how I wouldn’t be running this late. Or when I get home from work and there are piles of laundry to be done, a floor that needs swept, mopped, or vacuumed, supper to be cooked, dishes to be cleaned, trash that needs taken out, pets that need fed, a kid that needs bathed, teeth brushed, and put to bed. And not always willingly- do any one year olds actually purposefully fall asleep?  And a million other things that really need to be done- my “poor me” attitude always shows itself. When I fall into bed and shoot him a quick goodnight text and he doesn’t respond before I am ready to go to sleep, it’s so easy for me to take on my bratty self and think to myself “well if I’m not important enough…”

It’s easy for me to forget he’s busy too. While there are days he spends the morning getting the coffee shop gossip- he makes up for it with the days he’s out on the sprayer long before dawn or on the tractor long after sunset. He spends days running here, there, and everywhere because- let’s be honest- if ever a day comes that everything goes exactly as planned on the farm…what witchcraft are you doing, and can you share? He’s planting, or spraying, or checking fields, or working on equipment, or making sales calls, or delivering product, or hauling water, or tending to cattle, or building fence, the list could go forever. It’s easy to picture a farmer as some old guy who just sits on the tractor all day going back and forth, back and forth across the fields or just sitting in their pickup gawking at their cow. It’s easy to forget that as much as farming is something they (usually) enjoy, it’s also their job.

“Agriculture is the most healthful, most useful, and most noble employment of man”

-George Washington

So, while I may slip from time to time more often than I’d like to admit I’m doing my best to remember- and be grateful for just how hard my farmer works