Blogs

“I love waiting,” said no one ever. But maybe they should.

When we sit waiting for a baler to be fixed, we may check our phones, emails or social media (if we’re lucky enough to get cell service in the field) or maybe even read the seed flyer now faded and stuck on the dashboard.

As I sit here in the barn thinking of what I should write about and reflecting on our annual show, which just concluded, I’m trying to think of a very unique piece of equipment to discuss.

Ron was new on the job, driving a semi. Sleeper team – he was the junior driver. He came to a stop sign, stopped and, when traffic was clear, he gave the truck a little throttle and eased off of the clutch.

Most summers, I am blessed, or cursed, with the opportunity to judge some county fair youth livestock shows. I don’t suppose I am any smarter than the average know-it-all parent who leans on the fence and distracts his 10-year-old during the junior showmanship class, but word got out several years ago I can talk a good line of B.S. and take abuse.

One thing that no farmer ever wants to be called is lazy, and for the most part, we work our way well past that label in the eyes of the general public. I once had a friend who was contacted by a network news organization conducting a poll on work habits and work hours. About halfway through explaining his day, the interviewer proclaimed, “No one works like that!” and my friend hung up the phone on him.

He knocked on my door at 7:30 a.m. Muting the cartoon, I answered still in my pajamas with my newborn in my arms. My neighbor, Jeremy, eyeing me, said, “Your cows are out. Is your husband home?” No, my husband is not home and nowhere near cell service. I tried to not sound bitter.