Corn Growth Journal 2013

And...we're back!!

We're going to try this again, hopefully with more success and more rain this year. Last year at this time (well, Joe will tell you it was a little earlier, but details, details...), we decided to document the growth of our corn in relationship with our sweet, also ever growing kids. This year, we're going to try it again, and we'll hope to not be so darned depressed by the end of the summer. I am getting nauseous just thinking about the drought...

So, on to happier things: pictures of CUTE KIDS!!

The birthday boy!

Week #1

Each week we'll be sharing pictures of this particular field, south of our house (last year's was north, so here's to a new location, friends!). Joe just finished planting this field yesterday afternoon. So today is that day that we all feel relief. We're all happy that this is in the ground. Corn is a time sensitive plant, it needs a certain amount of growing degree (heat) units in order for it to achieve maturity. If you miss that window, you're out of luck, and by the grace of God, we finished under the wire. 

Whew.

So, as I posted before, we were able to breath a sigh of relief because of the corn being planted and enjoyed cake and ice cream and goofy tractor pictures with the kids today.

Here's to another year of ups and downs, I'm sure, but here's to the promise of more ups.

Stairsteps on the steps...

Posing in front of the "biiiiiig one," according to Jack.

Batteries Not Included

A little over two years ago, we found out we were expecting a bouncing baby boy. I figured I was somewhat prepared. I already had three other kids, one of them quite a tomboy, so how different could a boy really be?

Two years later, I’m eating my words. 

I now am a sweaty mess, as I chase our boy through our friend’s yard. I’m constantly dodging thrown balls, swung bats, and have nearly lost toenails from the wheels of tractors that seem to constantly be planting, harvesting, mowing, checking cows, etc. as I am making dinner.

So why wouldn’t we purchase him an enormous battery powered John Deere tractor with a loader and a backhoe? Why wouldn’t I want to give my already quite speedy toddler wheels to ride and most likely steer poorly?

Because, for the past week, whenever Jack was asked about his birthday, whether it was the cake or the presents or anything, the answer always included tractors.

“Tractors on it” (the cake).

“Tractors in it” (the presents).

“Big tractors” (in a pleading tone….).

So, off to Farm King I went, alone because Joe was planting, and purchased this piece of equipment. Thankfully, it was one of the last ones, so it was fully assembled. When I brought it home, I told Joe that bit of good news and reminded him to plug in the new battery.

That was Wednesday.

This morning, Sunday, with great pomp and circumstance, the tractor was unveiled, and boy was Jack thrilled! As he climbed on and grabbed the steering wheel, he asked, “I go on grass?”

 

Well, it was 6:30 in the morning, so no, but as he pushed the pedal, I realized it was a BIG FAT NO, as we (and when I say we, I mean JOE) had forgotten to charge the battery.

Oops.

However, our kids are parented by the belief that  disappointment breeds character, and also makes for a good story, right? So, Jack has enjoyed the new tractor, the big tractor, in our living room, pushing the buttons that take double A batteries, and have heard us talk up how fun it will be to ride this piece of equipment…

Tomorrow.

Thankfully, Jack just rolls with it. Although it may seem he has received the short end of the birthday stick, he had a great day. This crazy spring has caused us great issues, planning issues, stress issues, when to buy groceries and what to buy issues. We have had no birthday party planned because no corn had been planted, by either side of the family, until just a few days ago. Until yesterday, when we finished (and when I say we, I mean JOE), I didn’t even have a cake baked. 

That’s the story of this spring.  Forgotten details thanks to late nights and lack of sleep. Details skipped because of lack of planning time and definite answers. Last minute everything.

No matter, though. Today ended up being a special day, nonetheless, and not because of a crazy fun impromptu birthday carnival we put on. It was because we made a conscious effort to make this birthday more about time together, and remembering this day, this stage, and this sweet little chubby cheeked boy in all his tractor glory. Although we kept busy, we spent time squirting each other with squirt guns. We had a gourmet dinner of Casey’s pizza and cake, and that couldn’t have been more perfect.

Our baby is two. He’s a big guy, soon to be on motorized wheels (just a few more hours of charging left!), and we couldn’t be happier.

We love you, Jack, and we know that there are so many more fun things to come your way, and next time, we’ll try to remember the batteries!

A Morning in the Country

Birds chirping happily in the early morning sun.
Leaves rustling in the gentle breeze.
Calves playing on the hillside as their mamas watch, grazing in the green grass.
Seems like what a country morning should be, right?

Then, one catches a whiff of diesel fuel...
The VRRRROOOOOMM start up sound of a tractor.
Farmer Joe's laugh as he greets the man delivering fertilizer at 6:00 in the morning.
The sound of Jack's agonizing cry as I drag him in for the third time, peel off his rubber boots and explain to him that it is 6:15 in the morning, and NO we are not going outside yet.
Dust settles on all my dark furniture as yet another tractor drives by our house.

My brain nearly explodes as I realize Anna's homework was not completed thanks to our unreliable country internet service.

These are the true sights and sounds of a country morning, people.

We're hopping early this morning, thankfully, as not only has the weather cooperated for corn planting to be going great guns, but my cousin graduates from college tomorrow, so plans have been made for mandatory ceremony attendance from her father (the primary planter driver, and my uncle), and Jack will be two on Sunday, so there's the potential of a small-ish party for him in celebration of his special day. Plus, I think I need to mention again that THE WEATHER HAS COOPERATED!!!

There's a frantic pace behind the sights and sounds of the country morning, because, although THE WEATHER HAS COOPERATED (I feel like that has to be in all capitals), there's always the potential that it won't. Behind the loud start up of the tractor is Joe, hustling to finish chores so he can plant his corn. The guys began today way before dawn, disrupting the break of dawn light with headlights as they began to plant in the wee hours. They're trying. There's a timeline. There's Mother Nature. And then there's just the will to get this stupid crop in the ground so we can quit worrying about it.

My hope is that our country morning tomorrow will be a bit more peaceful. I'm hoping to enjoy the birds singing, the dawn breaking, and the fresh air like we country folks should.

I'm also hoping Joe will be around to help me spread mulch, but that's maybe stretching it!

Happy Friday!

Finding a New Normal...For Now

Yesterday was an exciting day for the farmers. On one of our farms, the rain amount was far less than what was received here closer to our house. That meant...

THEY STARTED PLANTING CORN!!!!!

Oh happy day! The machinery was actually PUT to use. The guys were hustling from the morning hours until deep after Dancing with the Stars had finished.

It was a good day.

However, upon heading to bed, Joe reminded me that he'd need to leave early in the morning to either help get started or finish his cattle chores before more planting commenced.

What?

In my sleepy state, I reminded Joe that I have a standing running date with a very reliable running partner.

Then he mentioned softball, which he is the head coach.

Uhh...oh boy. Here we go.

All in stride, Emily...all in stride...

My smartiness changed to sadness and then shifted to reality as I came to the realization that nothing in farming is constant, much to my control-freak scheduled, Type A personality's dismay. I have had to shift nearly everything in my life once I have become a farmer's wife: from PTO activities at school, not singing at church because of calving season, declining offers to vacation with friends because of harvest, so I'm kind of used to it, but when it begins to upset my "everyday" things...

I tend to get agitated.

However, this is the new normal. This is what is going to be the schedule, but only for a little bit, thanks to the ebb and flow of busy-ness in the agricultural field (literally and figuratively). I will survive...I guess, skipping my early morning adult conversation and run for a jog stroller run with a stop at the park (because the kids want to, and not because I'm pushing nearly sixty pounds, right???). The softball team is fortunate to have an understanding assistant coach, and they are ages 8 and under, so it's not like the Olympics. I can tailor my meals to those that still taste okay after being reheated. The kids miss their dad when he works long days, but I will relish the scene played out when he comes home and they come running. That's worth it.

I feel like I have to pep myself up every spring and fall, but I have always come through, unscathed, and get back to my usual routine...

until the next season.

In Honor of Mother's Day- Guest Post

*Blogger's note: Farmer Joe is in the house today...literally. It's raining again, and again, and again, and while that is not good for our unplanted crops, for his mother, Karma, it means a thoughtful tribute to a loving mom. Happy Mother's Day, early, to all you moms out there.

Here’s to you, Mom

Mother’s Day is nearly upon us again.  For a farm family, the timing of Mother’s Day (likely right in the middle of planting/spraying/sidedressing/haying/you-name-it) is wildly appropriate, because we treat the holiday just as we’ve treated our farm moms their whole life.  If it’s handy, and we’re not busy doing any of the aforementioned activities, and we thought about it ahead of time, we’ll stop for an hour and half and give mom half of our attention before we rush back to what we were doing before.  If we are too busy, we’ll celebrate it another time, maybe- woefully inadequate efforts in which Mom probably has to do much of the work herself to get it together.

I grew up as the oldest of four kids, all two years apart.  Dad and Grandpa were the real-deal livestock farmers- up and going at 5:30 am and working until dark or after much of the year.  I grew up wanting to go with Dad and Grandpa as soon as I was able to help out with whatever I could on the farm.  Mom was the person who made sure I had all of my schoolwork done, and made me go to things I didn’t want to go to when I could be doing “farm things”.  I had to go help with the grocery shopping because it was my job to push the grocery cart (at 6 or 7 years old) when she was the pushing the cart full of three other kids.  She always managed to have a meal on the table, kept our small house together, and was involved in all of the school, church, and 4-H activities: that was our family life.

Looking back now, this was in the mid-70’s to mid-80’s.  A young family of six trying to make a living on a small farm, in a small house, for little money and a lot of work.  Mom and Dad sacrificed a lot to get where they wanted to be for our family.  When we were little, I don’t remember hardly ever going anywhere- out to eat, out on the town, etc.  I remember one night being in Quincy after dark with all the streetlights and store signs.  One of the kids said, “This must be what Las Vegas looks like!”  Talk about naïve!  We didn’t “get out much,” but we appreciated what we had, even if we didn’t have what some others did- I never seemed to notice too much.  I especially didn’t notice the fact that Mom and Dad were working their tails off to earn and save to raise a family of four kids.  

Funny how you start to notice things about your own childhood when you have kids of your own.  Looking back, I see that throughout my childhood “Hero Worship” of my Dad and Grandpa and the life on the farm, I grossly under-appreciated my wonderful Mom for all that she did for not only us, but everyone around her.

Mom always made sure all of her kids felt special.  If one of us got a compliment for some achievement, she’d be sure to pipe up with how one of the other kids was good at some other thing.  This was annoying at the time if you were the one getting complimented, but now with four of my own, I can understand the whole “I’ve got three others that are pretty awesome, too!” pride mentality.

Mom always made sure that you treated everyone with respect- adults, other kids, pretty much anyone.  You didn’t have to like everyone, but you would treat them with the same respect you would expect yourself.  You were expected to behave yourself better than everyone else, but never to think you were “better than anyone else.”

Mom has always been a caretaker.  She has been one of God’s Angels for so many people of that community when they’ve gone through some illness, or don’t have any family close by.  She visits those in the nursing home, stops by to visit an elderly person living alone, or drives someone to their doctor appointment- All this while helping out my sisters and their tribes of four kids as well!   

Always so giving.

In October of last year, Mom started to not feel well.  She couldn’t eat anything, felt sick, and just wasn’t herself.  In December we got our cozy little perfect world rocked with the news that she has stomach cancer.  As usual, Mom was the strongest voice of courage, faith in God, positivity and confidence that she could be.  As my sisters and brother talked amongst ourselves over that next few days, I noticed all of Mom’s wonderful qualities in my brother, sisters, and myself.  We were encouraging and strong because that’s what Mom would be for someone else.  Throughout the treatments, my sisters have been absolute rocks for the entire family- going to treatments and Dr. appointments with Mom, taking care of our older relatives, which Mom was doing before, and generally just getting things done, all while taking care of their own families.  Just like their Momma taught ‘em.  

My brother has worked to pick up as much of the farm load that he can while Dad helps take care of Mom, and has a caring, giving heart like no other.   As the only member of the family “outside the compound” I’ve felt pretty helpless throughout the ordeal so far, but just like Mom, I’ll tell you how proud I am of the rest of my family for all of the things they are doing so well!

So this Mother’s Day, I’ve realized that a card or flowers or some trinket just doesn’t do justice to what my mom means to me.  The real gift to Mom is reflecting on to others what she has given to all of us- in our character, our giftedness, and our strength in the face of adversity.  So here’s to you, Mom!  We know that we make you proud (you tell everyone!)- it’s because you’ve taught us well!  Love you!

Talking About Talking

It’s not surprising to those who know me, even those who may have just met me, that I’m a talker. I do it for a living. I speak at different events. Even as a toddler, I had a debate over Kleenex vs. Napkin with my dad. When our first child spoke in complete sentences at a year, I was surprised, only to be brought back to reality by my friend Andrea who looked at me and said, “Do you KNOW who her mother is?”

Oh yeah…

This gift can be a blessing, but a curse at times…ask poor Joe. While I am a communicator, a verbalizer, it can sometimes be too much.

Oops.

However, in the three years I have been blogging, I have completed numerous trainings on how to talk effectively to consumers, those not in the agricultural world, etc. It’s interesting how even if one is innately a talker, you still have to revist the how of communication once in awhile.

This “how” of communication is really at the forefront of my thoughts today. In the past few weeks, I have blogged about some pretty hot button topics: specifically, GMO and HSUS. These are issues that directly affect us as farmers, me as a mom, and me as just a person trying to decipher what is best for my kids and family. However, I have learned in my short time blogging that when you blog about certain topics that hit a nerve, you must be ready to talk back. Not fight. Just talk. Communicate. Verbalize.

We are living in a world where communication is fast and furious, and that is excellent at times. The internet and blogosphere is ideal for a communicator like me, as it offers an outlet for opinions. However, when I put myself out there on hot button topics, I have to be ready to receive feedback that is not so warm and fuzzy. That’s okay. I have been trained, never fear…ha, ha., and I love the other side of the coin discussion. It makes me reevaluate and sometimes validate my decision even more. It’s interesting, though, that because of the outlet and semi-anonymity of the Internet, folks are able to voice opinions, but when asked to talk through issues, such as GMOs or HSUS, there’s often times complete silence.

Like, crickets chirping silence.

Why is that?

On one hand, I understand that we all have opinions, standards, and beliefs that will not ever change. I have that, too. However, when I am searching for answers and navigating through territory I don’t understand, to voice an opinion and not be willing and open and, well, not snarky, to receive information that comes straight from the source, that’s just bizarre.

So, let’s talk about talking.

Let’s have a Q & A.

Let’s air our grievances, as we would during the Festivus Holiday season.

If you’re so bold, ask me a beef question in regards to antibiotics. Ask me a fertilizer question. While I do not contend to be an expert on ANYTHING agricultural, I live with someone who is pretty in the biz, am the daughter of someone who TAUGHT agriculture for over 30 years, and have friends upon friends who are communicators, writers, experts in the field who would love to answer your questions.

Just hear me out…be kind. Don’t attack my lifestyle. Don’t think I’m evil because we sometimes have to give our animals medicine in order for them to survive and thrive, and thus, allow us to survive and thrive.  Voice your opinions, but be ready to have a conversation, not a one-sided one, a back and forth.

I challenge you dear readers…this could be a big thing.

Let’s call it, Dear Emily…

HSUS and Us

This morning, as I was readying my girls for the bus, the Today Show was on. Yes, I'm still watching it, bit by semi-miserable bit, but I was excited to have something on the TV that didn't have a cartoon character on it (unless one considers Al Roker cartoonish).

Anyway, the teaser for the next half hour's programming included a piece about how the HSUS (Humane Society of the United States) was calling out an AKC certified dog breeder raising dogs in miserable conditions.

My animal loving eight year old's ears immediately perked up. Nine thousand questions later, I had answered that yes, some folks are not nice to animals, even though one should always be kind to animals, but no, groups like HSUS are not necessarily trying to do the right thing. I had to explain to my daughter, who is her dad's number one cattle helper (also known as a Junior Herdsman) as she waited for the bus, that a group like HSUS thinks that both producers like Daddy with his cows and Grandpa with his hogs are not taking good care of their animals.

That's when the six year old got in on the conversation, and I quote, "What do you mean they think Daddy doesn't do the right thing with the cows? How do they know?"

EXACTLY, Josephine.

Tell me that someone like Wayne Pacelle, CEO of HSUS, should be regulating what Joe Webel, COO of our cattle operation, does on a day like today. As I look out on the ever greening pasture to the south of our house, I know our cows are "happy cows," like those in California, but not without a lot of work and worry. HSUS has no idea what goes on with a real cattle operation, and while we're different from ranchers in Oklahoma, feed lots in Colorado (did I just say the F-word...FEED LOT???? They're not as bad as perceived, friends...but don't google it, send me a message), or dairy farms in Wisconsin, we're all doing our best with what we have.

Have I ever mentioned that the weather plays a huge part in our operation? Thanks to the craziness of the drought, the weird winter, and the lack of hay, many a sleepless night was had by Joe in regards to feeding his cows. Even though it's May 1st, and the cows should be grazing on acre after acre of lush, tall spring grass, this week and last has been cooler than normal, wet as heck, and, thus, frustrating. Even though it was warm yesterday and will be again today, because of the domino effect of the drought, we've had some worry in how to keep our mamas and babies and bulls fat and happy.

Thankfully, Joe is a good herdsman, and has figured it out, but not without worry or work or extra money and time spent in the process.

That's the thing HSUS is missing when they attack livestock farmers. While I don't want puppies to be raised in squalor, livestock is literally a different breed from a dog (pardon the reference). HSUS is a FOR profit organization that has no interest in helping livestock farmers, or any animal lover or breeder or whatever, get better. They want to regulate the heck out of everything and then shut people like us down.

Period.

I repeat: I do not want puppies to live in less than favorable conditions. I hate those commercials with sad eyed animals in pens and cats with goopy eyes in overstuffed crates. I don't want livestock to be grazing in a field that isn't safe. I am not turning a blind eye to those producers who aren't using their resources wisely, but, in my very humble opinion, those farmers are the exception, and NOT the rule.

So, to answer Josie's question, HSUS doesn't know what goes on in our livestock operation, so why am I worried about them?

One word: power.

They have the power of the media. They have the power of celebrities (google Ellen Degeneres...who is very funny, but a huge activist in this cause). They have an amazing marketing team that has allowed them to infiltrate into everything from television personalities to government officials. But, like everything else, we as producers have to be informed, armed, and ready to stand up for ourselves and this profession.

My hope is that someone will really take a look at HSUS's financials and realize that there's no money going toward local shelters. My hope is that someone will stand up to this craziness and quit allowing this group to be so influential when there's no grounds for them to stand upon.

That's a tall order in our world today of causes and celebrities and all that jazz, but it's okay to hope, right?