Memories of Farm Chores

Each bale of hay is a visual of accomplishment.

Seeing the farmers picking wheat this week brought back childhood memories for me. If you have never been involved in harvesting wheat it has to be one of the hottest jobs ever, right up there with fire-fighters and roofers! It’s hot, sweaty, sticky, itchy, and very dusty! I hated having to do it, but I was fairly lucky because I was usually a driver. That was bad enough, but I pitied the guys who had to walk behind, picking up the heavy hay bales and throwing them on the trailer. Then unload them into the barn loft.

When we were kids my brother and I were often farm hands right along with the rest of the hired help when it came to doing some of the more extreme jobs. These included pulling weeds from long rows of peas (soybeans) for weeks (ugh), picking up roots when we took in more farm land, and gathering watermelon and cantaloupes by the truckloads. We had to work in the garden and no, it wasn't some little garden. Daddy had a penchant for thinking his garden was practically just a mini farm field. Those rows of snaps and butter beans seemed to go on forever! We'd usually get up early in the mornings to start work, but it didn't take long for the sun to get high in the sky and hotter than Hades. There were also hot dusty jobs like sweeping and rearranging the barn or cleaning out the hog pens. Never pleasant but had to be done (luckily, only on occasion).

I think pulling weeds was the worse job because it lasted a couple weeks. It was especially hot because we had to wear long-sleeves to keep us from itching from the scratchy plants and getting sunburned. I remember once when we'd gotten caught in a rain storm on the opposite end of the field from where the trucks were parked. When the lightening started we all had to run back for cover. We piled into the cab of the truck in the downpour, the windows steaming because it was so hot and we were so wet. When it was over we'd head back to the field, but it was worse than ever because of the added humidity. It was like a tropical sauna!

I have to remember the good parts too. Even though the jobs were tough and we kids usually whined because none of our friends had to do what we did, we'd still have a fairly good time. Daddy was always telling stories or making jokes. He'd patiently answer all our questions about how this grew or how to tell if something needed nitrogen or fertilizer. We'd play guessing games or sing songs as we picked butter beans or pluck chickens. The time didn't pass any quicker, but it was nice to think it did. Afterwards we'd get a bath and put our pj's on and feel a cool evening breeze and everything would feel right with the world. We all slept like the tired babies we were.

All in all, those long hours of hot chores gave us tenacious stick-to-it work ethics. You can't buy this stuff. So everything I did back then still continues to affect me to this day and that's a very good thing. I'm so blessed to have been a farmer's kid!!