She wants to be a farmer. I wonder about that because she'd rather read or cook or play video games than rake or weed or clean. I tell her that if she's serious she has to downright nag her grandfather into letting her tag along with him and learn and help. But we keep her busy. There's 4H and piano lessons and confirmation and the counselor on Thursday nights.
Besides her cousin who's a year and a half older is always out at the farm. He's a boy and has always been out at the farm his whole life. I don't want to be sexist and think that she can't farm just because she's a girl. Girls can farm. But I'm a suburban "city slicker" transplant myself, I know exactly squat about farming. Whereas my nephew was pretty much bred and intentionally conditioned, even programmed deliberately for farming. That was his father's heart and very soul. If it's not his destiny to fulfill his father's dreams, we will all be bewildered.
So I feel somewhat inadequate when it comes to helping this 10 year old girl attain her own dream of someday becoming a farmer. Sometimes I can write it off as inconsequential because how many "dreams" do little kids have. When I was seven I wanted to be a farmer, and a cowboy, and a fireman, a baseball player and a rock star. Surely next week she'll want to be an astronaut or a veterinarian or something else, right? Except that she's said that she wants to be a farmer when she grows up for almost two years now.
Am I being sexist? Am I being a realist? It's difficult to make a living as a family farmer, nearly impossible. Female farmers are not unheard of, but they certainly are rare. Would that make it more of an uphill battle? Do I want to encourage her or protect her from potential failure? Is that like the parents who discouraged their daughters from becoming lawyers and scientists because those were male dominated fields? Would it be like the parent that doesn't think of themselves as racist, but would discourage their child from marrying someone with a different skin color because they know the racism and opposition that they will have to endure from society as a couple?
I don't know. I just know that I can't help her because I don't even know how to drive a tractor, let alone use one to pull a gravity wagon, let alone operate a combine. I am virtually clueless when it comes to markets and yields and moisture tests and using augers to load grain into bins.
But I knew that her younger two sisters and both of her cousins had gotten to ride along with my father-in-law in his combine this fall, as well as in tractors with various uncles and cousins. And I knew that she was due.
But we would be late. I lost track of time at school and had completely forgotten that I needed to pick her up from church after Confirmation class. I picked her up 20 minutes late. They told us that the men were working at the "upper place." I've lived here for nine years and I still don't remember where that is.
I drove into a field uphill from my in-law's farm. Empty, and bare. They were done here. Obviously, "upper" must not mean up-hill, it must mean East or North. I headed for another farm which I knew he rented, on the other side of the town's cemetery.
I didn't get to the end of the section, I turned North a mile too soon. It was dark and I only ever go there maybe twice a year.
When I had gotten half way up the lane I knew it was the wrong place because the combines were red instead of green.
I felt embarrassed and just started backing up instead of coming onto the place and turning around. That's when one wheel dipped onto the grass on the edge of the culvert and we were stuck. All we could do is spin, just like snow.
Fortunately the farmer had a chain and pulled us out. But, by the time we finally made it to the right bean field they were done.
So first Grace was scared because it was dark and we were lost and then stuck. Now she was ticked because she got gypped out of her ride with her Grandpa. I hate it when she cries. Oh well, there's sure plenty of corn to harvest, kid.
I just hope that either we can somehow give her what she'll need to make her dreams come true, or that she'll catch some other dream. Meanwhile, I wish I could afford a four-wheel drive vehicle and I should really consider asking for a GPS device for Christmas. And meanwhile she need to continue to work on her grades at school so that she can go to college someday, whether she ends up farming or not. One thing's for sure, I don't know beans about it.
This maneuver is called the "double-cross." It is rare and a bad sign. It's when two combines need to unload into the same wagon. This night it happened because it took me 4 passes to line up my wagon with the auger- it was a narrow bath between bins. Meanwhile, my nephew and his cousin were having trouble with the ignition on the other tractor and couldn't back out from the other bin/auger.
Mark empties the gravity-wagon into the auger. This wagon holds 440 bushels. That's 14,080 Quarts to we laymen. 42 lbs per bushel is about average according to ask.com, Mark said this was approximately 50 lb per bushel. Either way, each wagon load is around 10 TONS of corn.
