Broken B Firsts

I have discovered that even when a farm has been around for more than a hundred years, there are still occasions for 'firsts'.

- After farming for his entire life, my dad got his first brand new tractor this spring. The pride of accomplishment on his face when they delivered it was enough to make me cry ... and then make him pose for a couple of pictures. :)

- After driving the tractor through its first 30 hours or so in the hayfield with a mower attached, dad finally had to give up the reins to me last night. And I didn't shut the tractor down until after midnight. That's never happened on our farm before. (Maybe because we've never had a tractor with this many lights on it before!) Although I'm sure Patsy never imagined her song would be altered quite like this, I had occasion to entertain myself by singing a rousing rendition of 'I go out mowin' ... after midnight ... out in the moonlight ... just hopin' you may be ... somewhere out mowin' ... after midnight ... searchin' for meeee ... '

- I'm pretty sure no one's ever sung that on our farm before either. But you never know, I guess!

Rainin'

It’s funny how rain affects life on the farm. Most days, when the sun is shining, there are enough things to keep you busy outside from sunup to sundown. But when it rains, it prioritizes things in a hurry – only the most important things get done. And especially during hay season, a farmer always keeps one eye on the job he’s doing, and one eye on the skies. Haying isn’t necessarily a difficult thing to do, especially if you’re baling the big round bales and not small square bales. Haying is, however, a fairly labor-intensive, weather-dependent summer sport. First, you go through the field with a tractor that has a mower (we have a disc mower) attached to it. Then you let that cut grass lay in the sun and dry out for a day or so. You go through it with another tractor with a rake attachment, then, that gathers all the cut grass into rows. Last, with (surprise!) another tractor, this time with a baler attached, you drive down those ‘windrows’ of hay and the baler sucks it up, rolls it up, ties it up, and spits out a nice big hay bale. Then when all the haying is done, you gather all the bales into a barn, or a hay pen in a field, line them up and fence them off, and you use it to feed your livestock in the winter. Voila!

I don’t know if all farmers are this way, but my dad feels about his field grass like a lot of suburban men feel about their lawns: almost unreasonably particular. If dad has some hay cut that’s waiting to be baled, and it gets rained on, the man is not at all pleased. In his defense, the hay quality isn’t as good if it gets rained on, and he likes to do things ‘right’. So, yesterday the horizon started to get black, we had some hay down, and it threw our haying operation into frenzy mode. Ladies and gentlemen, start your engines! Fire up the tractors, race around the field with the implements, and get the hay baled as quickly as possible. Go, go, go! Done!

The rains came down, and leisure ensued. Napping, sitting on the porch, and general laziness for all. We did the chores, worked with the border collie Kip (more about Kip later, I promise, 'cause she cool), then I went for a run in the rain. Except for that stupid semi that pelted me with water while I was running … jerk … it was an awesome day.

Don't forget to look both ways ...

At a sunset. Tonight, I saw the most breathtaking sunset I can ever remember seeing. And the most awesome thing about it was that it took up The. Entire. Sky. All of it. At the same time the sun was blowing up the clouds on the western horizon, the thunderheads in the southeast were catching some of the action as well. Everywhere I looked it was literally a dizzying, giant color explosion. It was like the guy who runs the sun was retiring and this was his last day on the job. Wow, man. Nice work.

Rural Driving Wave

When I was growing up in rural North Missouri, it was pretty standard procedure to drive with one hand on the top of the steering wheel when you were on the highway, so you could ‘wave’ at oncoming drivers. It didn’t matter whether you knew them or not, you ‘waved’ at everyone. Now, when I say ‘wave’, this was no full-on, whole hand, beauty queen-style wave. No, there was a very particular way to do it, and if you didn’t execute it correctly, people could tell you were from out of town (and nobody wants people to think that). There were many things to know about this wave, none of which was, or has ever been, outlined in official guidelines, to my knowledge. However, in the event that you ever find yourself driving through a rural environ, I’d like to provide you with a few of the finer points of the Rural Driving Wave.

First, you need to initiate the wave when you’re at just the right distance from the other driver, to give them enough time to see your wave and respond in kind. This precaution in taken because there are some people who only wave back – those are usually people who don’t have much initiative, in waving, and just in general. Second thing to be aware of is that you need two kinds of waves – one for people you know, and one for people you don’t know. When you wave at people you know, that’s the easy one: wrist on the steering wheel, with five fingers extended. Note: until you are experienced in this procedure, it is best not to actually move your hand in a waving motion. The proper rural waving motion has its own set of guidelines and should only be attempted by people who have years of practice. Now, the wave you give to people you don’t know is totally different and more difficult, because you can say a lot of things with this wave: Hi there fellow rural dweller, I don’t know who you are but I’d probably stop to help you if I saw your car broken down on the side of the road, I’m a cool/nice/bad-ass/fun/redneck/old/cranky/etc. person, I appreciate your awesome car … a wave is almost worth a thousand words. These types of waves are tough to pick up, because it’s almost like you’re speaking a new language. But to learn any language you need the basic ‘vocabulary’. So here is where I recommend you start. The heel of your hand, your thumb, and your pinky finger need to remain on the steering wheel for most beginner-style waves, allowing your other three fingers a range of motion. When the oncoming car is about 20 yards away, raise your index finger as far as it will comfortably go, then let your middle finger and ring finger naturally follow. It’s a skill, for sure, so don’t worry if you don’t get it just right the first few times you try.

I should probably warn you, though, that if you’re not driving a truck and wearing a baseball cap, the chances of folks waving back are slim. The Rural Driving Wave has seen a slump in its usage in recent years, so you could call it a dying art. But, I tell you, when you pass someone on the road who does wave back, you’ll feel like you just made a new friend. But, sometimes all it takes is a simple action to get a positive reaction and make someone’s day. Try it next time you’re in the country, I’m certain you’ll like it.

The Deal

It's been on my mind for ... I have no idea how long. Probably at least a year. What's going to happen to the family farm when my parents can't do it anymore? My brother, the heir apparent, decided to abdicate to drive trains. My sister has gotten entrenched into her life, to the point it would be nearly impossible to leave.

And then there's me. Growing up, I was always outside on our farm. I loved it - and still do - with every fiber of my being. I put a lot of years into this operation. And admittedly, I've also put a lot of years between myself and the day-to-day here. But no matter how daunting it may be to think of relearning it all, I can't even begin to describe how my soul would wither if I didn't have this place.

And yet, on the other hand, I have built an awfully nice little life for myself in the city, too. A life that I'm proud of, and pleased with where it could take me.

Knowing this, the opportunity has been given to me to take 30 days to reconnect with Broken B Farms and do some thinkin'. So that's what I'm doing. And I'm going to take this opportunity to share some of the small town farm life stories, scenery and daily goings-on here.