Sunday Evening Farm Tour

About 6:30 this evening I woke from my half-nap state to hear two TVs blaring Bridezillas, combined with the noise of the mower. So I rubbed my eyes, got a glass of water and snatched Dad’s new camera to go capture the world on memory card.

Mom was mowing. Mowing is the bain of her existence. I’m sure she’s mowed a good 3000 acres in her lifetime on that there machine. She thinks it’s boring torture, but at least she looks stylish in her straw hat.

(And note how green it is. Normally everthing is burnt to a crisp by the end of June, but the crazy rains just won’t go away.)

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She and Dad have put in landscaping around the house this spring. They’ve already gone through 75 bags of mulch.

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From the house, I headed toward the shop to check out two things: (1) the new roll-up door, and (2) the two kitties that are living out there, too scared to leave the shed. I couldn’t find the cats.

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Some grain bins sit to the right of the shop. There used to be four big ones, but one day when I was in middle school, Grandma (who lived there at the time) called us to say that one of them had been picked up by the wind — and it slammed up against the house. It was unbelievable.

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Then I headed down the road to the west — to the area we call the West Place. (Brillant, I know.) That’s the location of the hay shed and feedlot, and there used to be a house there — which is where Dad grew up. It was torn down in the 80s.

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They used to have a dairy, and this is the old dairy barn. Grandpa once got cornered on top of one of the out buildings by an angry bull.

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Across the way, the cows (owned by a neighbor) were roaming in front of the hay shed.

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Hark! A voice! Pretty soon Dad came around from behind the barn. I didn’t know he was down there, but in hindsight, I did think it was weird that the electric fence was pushed to the ground on the driveway.

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Dad is very proud of his new hat. He thinks it makes him look like a macho cowboy. He’d just been surveying the corn on the field we call the “bottom” (i.e. it’s right on the creek bottom). I asked if we could go back there to check it out. So we took off.

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The corn is indeed as high as an elephant’s eye. Can you believe it was only planted two months ago?

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We made our way out into the corn, like the players in Field of Dreams. (Too bad we didn’t come out with super-athlete powers.)

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That’s my hand…reaching as far up as I can. (Notice that you’re not seeing any other pictures of me. There is a reason for this. I was frumped out.)

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Dad explained that tassles were pollenating…

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…an the pollen was now dropping down onto the silks. (I think these look like Barbie hair.)

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We made our way back out of the jungle of corn to the edge of the wheat. Someone today asked why it’s so dark in color. There are a few reasons for this: (1) the variety (breed), (2) it’s wet, and (3) it probably has black rust.

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Dad grabbed a head and rolled the dismal, small kernels out of it. (It’s a bad year.)

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“Tastes like chicken,” he said.

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We headed back towards the barn.

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We went in the hay shed to check out Dad’s new 1000 bushel grain cart. Today he’d wired a light onto it so that we’ll be able to see when we’re unloading on a truck at night.

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Then he jumped on the tractor — his whole purpose for the trip to the West Place.

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I opted to stay on foot and trotted back to the road to get some more shots of the barn.

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Then I walked down to the creek to check out the wild gords growing along side it.

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As I began my journey back to the house, I said goodbye to the cows.

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And sighed at the beautiful sunset.

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3 Responses so far »

  1. 1

    Pastor Tom said,


    Reallly nice pictures – you definitely have a “camera eye”.
    Tell your Dad that the picture of him in his “cowboy hat” would be made
    complete with a corncob pipe in his mouth, holding a jug of
    “granny’s corn sqeezins”. :>)

    Pastor Tom

  2. 2

    Mandy said,

    Well, I’d say “nothing changes”, lol, but in truth, your parents have done a lot with the ol’ place! It really looks nice and in the pictures you’ve taken, it looks… well, picturesque. Nice!

  3. 3

    […] (despite being completely bogged down with work from my real job). I started off the week with a Sunday Evening Farm Tour, entertained myself my trying on all my old 4-H dresses (note: the prom shot ended up on the fridge […]

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