Carb Lovers Rejoice! Wheat Harvest is Now In Session!

Fifteen years ago my handsome hubby and I were stretched out on the beach, drinks in hand, toes in the sand, ocean views stretched out before us, the warm sun and beachy breeze keeping all the romantic vibes alive...

Just kidding.  We were in a wheat field.

The only waves around us were amber waves of grain. Please, try to control your jealousy.

Sometimes honeymoons come right after the wedding, and sometimes they come after wheat harvest. Crazy as it sounds, that's our story!  Two days after walking down the isle, I found myself sitting in a big blue Ford tractor tugging a grain cart around the dusty field where my brand new shiny happy husband was cutting wheat.  

I may have traded my white dress in for work boots and blue jeans (however, my French manicured nails still looked totally fabulous….and that’s the last time they were polished), but I was happy! When farming is your livelihood, harvest doesn't wait for honeymoons, honeymoons wait for harvest.

{That's the toughest guy I know, right up there. 

Screw Lyme disease. We're gonna cut some wheat!}

Our farming ventures have led us down many different path since then, and it’s been several years since we’ve actually had a wheat crop to cut.  Now that our older boys have outgrown the toy tractors and are ready for bigger and better things, life on the farm is really getting fun. I was super excited this summer when Steve told me we (we!) had bought a combine and would be harvesting wheat this year, for the first time in ages.

{Thank goodness for big brothers who can help little brothers up the ladder.}

{I think Chuckeroo may have been a liiiitle bit nervous sitting up that high.}

The boys spent a week prior to harvest helping Steve make sure the combine was in tip-top shape. Although it was new to us, the old girl (as Steve affectionately calls it...um...her) had seen some miles and had plenty of wear and tear.  You know, buying things brand new can be more convenient, more comfortable, but in our case, bargain hunting has it's benefits.  Fixer-uppers give the boys plenty of opportunities to work beside their father, to learn how to solve problems, and to be attentive to details. 

I love that they are learning some serious mechanic skills from their father.  I'm tellin' ya, they are gonna make some sweet little lady with a long "honey-do" list very happy some day!

Henry and George were at Totus Tuus all week, so they didn't have a chance to ride the combine with daddy, but the little ones were more than happy to tag along with me to deliver meals to the field.

Andrew kindly sat in the car with Joseph so I could take a spin with dad and Charlie around the field. Joseph was soooo charged when he saw the combine rolling along.  100% testosterone that boy!!

While most of this part of the state is finishing up with harvest, much of the Midwest will still be out in the field working long hours in the days to come. So, carb lovers, if you happen to be cruising along the rural roadways of America this weekend, enjoying the fruits of a farmer’s labor, be sure to wave your bagel and holler thank you. They love what they do and do it well so that you can have what you love!

Have a wonderful weekend, friends!

He Withholds No Good Thing From Us...

I wish I could explain to you, through the little pages of this place, just how beautiful rural Kansas is.  I love it. We love it. Slow drives along country roads, nothing to interrupt the peaceful view of the afternoon sun reflected off the dome of a silo standing solitary beside a barn whose peak is the perfect place for the owl to scope out his prey...

Farmhouses, old and new, full of a devotion that nourishes the working hands with family recipes passed down from generations past, a house that is more than a place to put up the weary feet after a long days work. Houses that are homes.

These are the sights that make my heart sing.

Amber waves of grain!

Canola - Isn't it lovely?

My boys are the first to notice fresh tassels topping endless rows of corn, the baby green sprouts of wheat waking up and breaking through the winter chill. They are happy to study the variety of crops as each grows steady through the seasons, changing color and shape, fulfilling their natural course of life until harvest time.

We talk about it all, again and again, a conversation that never seems to get old.

  Brothers!! Working and playing (and teasing each other) side by side since they were babes!

Then, harvest time, oh my.  Combines, tractors, swathers, balers, grain trucks - they know every make, every model and the conversations that flow from the scoping out of just one piece of equipment can last for miles and miles.  This is their time to teach, my time to listen and learn.

With the sight of every farmstead that rolls past us as we forge ahead to our destination comes the ache that presses hard an my heart, the ache to be "that place" out there, the one that perhaps others drive by and say, "Hey, look at that farm! I wonder who lives there?" The place where I stand on the porch and watch my sons in their faded wranglers and crooked caps journey out to meet all that the day holds for them.

But, the porch is not mine, not ours, not yet.

We wait.

Waiting.  The stubborn word that won't leave me alone.

So many of us are waiting, aren't we?

Waiting for a loved one to be healed, for a spouse to come home from being deployed overseas, waiting to bring a child home from the hospital, waiting to have a child of your own, waiting to find a job, a home.....waiting on the Lord.

And, in the moments of waiting don't you wonder why in the world we long for certain things so deeply? There are days when I try to wish the longing away, wish I could loosen the grip dreams have on my heart, wish I could free my mind from wondering when the dreams will be realized. Dreams we've prayed about for 14 years. Dreams to own our own dirt, to build a house on that dirt and to watch 12 feet and 30 toes make a maze of endless paths that all lead back to the front porch where I sit and savor it all.

These are the all too familiar thoughts running through my mind last week as we cruised the countryside, boys' noses pressed to window panes in search of Dad who was waiting on us to deliver lunch to a field where he was working for another farmer.

Custom work, work for others, that's what you do when you're waiting for a field of your own.

Just a couple of miles away, I try to get a grip on my feelings, try to let the intellect take charge of the will.  Will to be grateful, will to be positive, will to see what we have and not what we want to have - what we're waiting to have, will to laugh, will to hand over the sandwich with a hug and a look that says, "I love you....we can do this."

Just then, words form the song "Open My Hands" by Sara Groves pops into my head:

He withholds no good thing from us.

No good thing from us. No good thing from us.

I repeat the words over and over in my head: He withholds no good thing from us....

And, I realize that there's more good things to be had than those that we have our hearts and minds set upon, those "big" things that we're waiting for. There's good right here, right now, in the smallest parts of the most ordinary day.  And, those are the things we have to hold onto in the waiting, those are the little sparks of life that must be fanned so that the fires of our faith and our hope are not extinguished by impatience or a lack of trust while we wait.

There's beauty in those sparks.  Little as they may be.  Yes, beauty.

And joy.

And purpose.

And, if we find within the waiting the truth that our longings were never meant to be realized, then we can be content in knowing that we lived fully the life that was given to us.

There's a radio in that tractor, and Daddy discovers that Charlie loves the song Benny and the Jets by Elton John.  This is the two of them delivering their best version to me in the car while I hold Joseph. Charlie sings grinning, over and over, B-b-b-Benny!!

He withholds no good thing from us.

Indeed.

I believe in a blessing I don't understand
I’ve seen rain fall on wicked and the just
Rain is no measure of his faithfulness
He withholds no good thing from us
No good thing, no good thing from us

I believe in a peace that flows deeper than pain
That broken find healing in love
Pain is no measure of his faithfulness
He withholds no good thing from us
No good thing from us, no good thing from us

CHORUS:
I will open my hands will open my heart
I will open my hands will open my heart
I will show up and play the smallest part
I am nodding my head an emphatic yes
To all that You have for me

I believe in a fountain that will never dry
Though I've thirsted and didn't have enough
Thirst is no measure of his faithfulness
He withholds no good thing from us
No good thing from us, no good thing from us

CHORUS

No good thing from us
No good thing from us 
He withholds no good thing from us 

Summer Harvest Adventures, Part II

It's true what they say, farming is definitely a family affair.  And, our experience this summer custom harvesting 3 hours from home, certainly affirmed that truth.  If you missed Monday's post, part 1 of our Summer Harvest Adventures, you can catch up on that here.  Today's post highlights how our family worked together each day to ensure the success of our operation.

When Steve's sister, Jen, found the Little R & R bed and breakfast for us as a possible place to stay, we didn't realize, at the time, how fortunate we would be to be able to call it our home for a month.  Located in the St. Mark's community, just west of Wichita, it was a conveniently centralized location for us to station a kitchen, office and bunks. Kathy and I went to great loving strides to make this our home away from home.  From sunup to sundown, the b & b bubbled with activity, and while the long days were, at times, a bit waring, we still managed to march on.  The front porch, equipped with a dreamy porch swing and a cooler of cold drinks, made for some great late night relaxation and conversation at the end of a hard day.

Now we don't want to toot our horns too loudly, but Kathy and I pretty much concur with the saying that behind every successful man is a strong and wise woman.  I might add to that, a woman who can cook! Keeping tummies full, laundry fresh and kids happy helped the guys work harder and happier every day in the field.

Unfortunately, I don't have any photos of Kathy or myself in the kitchen slaving over the hot stove, filling to-go boxes with steaming portions of goodness, topping off countless cups of ice water for sweaty kids or rubbing Benadryl on their mosquito bites 100 times a day....but this depiction is pretty close:

Honestly, if we do this next year, I'm going to do a full-on video montage of what it takes to feed a crew out in the field.  It will include everything from our favorite recipes and the scandalous amount of butter we used to the crazy winding trips down unknown back roads (without GPS) to deliver the goods to the guys.

But, enough about us! Let's talk tractors! (And balers, and Stingers!)

The wheat crop this summer was thick and lush.  I couldn't quite get over how exquisite it looked on my early morning runs, the way it shimmered in the sun like gold against the bright, fresh sky. 

Contrasted to the rich green bordering pastures, it really was something to behold.  If you're clutching a bagel with your coffee right now - look closely - this is where the bread begins!

The first order of business for the guys was to get the swather into the fields that needed cut, so that the tractors could follow up with baling.

As the swather moves forward cutting the straw, small tines on the header sweep the straw to the center of the path, leaving a nice fluffy row of straw in its wake.

This is our son, Andrew, jumping down to grab lunch (and a hug!) after a long morning at work.

Grandpa Bob is very patriotic, and found a way to attach American flags to all of the equipment. The flags looked awesome blowing in the breeze atop the towering tractors!

After the wheat straw is swathed, it's time for the tractors to move in to the field and bale. Sometimes, they were able to work together, and at other times, they had to split up, depending on the conditions of the fields (we did get a couple of tractors stuck after a big rain!)

The day I was able to capture these shots, Steve had called me to let me know that they were baling just 2 miles down the road from the b & b, and believed it to be the perfect photo op of the straw squad!

The straw is compressed into large square bales and left in the field for the Stinger to load and stack on the perimeter of the field.

I have photos of every single one of the boys sitting on Steve's lap, gripping the wheel, believing they are driving just like daddy.  Charlie says tractor with so much gusto he foams at the mouth. It's hilarious! Our boys were definitely born to farm!

Like most occupations, farming requires a healthy dose of humor in order to deal with daily set-backs - especially when an entire tractor cab has to be removed just to get to the lower air conditioner unit. This was by far the best photo we took of Steve all summer!!

{Catching a grin from my big guy up in the cab!}

After riding with Steve for a day, Ben knew he could handle a seat on the tractor, and he was right!  He did an amazing job baling for us this summer, and had a great experience working out in the field with the guys.

One morning, after a heavy rain, the guys decided to move equipment in search of a dry field. They just happened to be "passing through," so they stopped to eat lunch at the b & b.  They are literally parked right across the street from the house! That's small town America for ya!

For all of you who are interested in the equipment side of this post, this piece of machinery is called a Stinger stacker.  Using large forks (top of the stinger), the stinger is able to pick a bale, lift it over the cab and onto the platform on the back of the truck.  

Once the platform is full, the stinger drives the bales across the field and releases them in a tall, upright stack at the edge of the field. I wish I had better pics of the Stinger in action, because it's really pretty amazing to watch (catch a video here).  Unfortunately, my phone doesn't take great low-light pictures.

After being on location for about 2 weeks, nearly everywhere you traveled within a 20 mile radius of St. Mark's, evidence of our operation was visible across the countryside.  Fields spotted with freshly pressed bales and towering stacks stretching across the field's edge couldn't be missed!

Looking back on our 30+ day adventure eastward, despite constant kp duty, long exhausting treks to the laundromat (with 5 kids!), long hours on the road delivering meals, running for parts to fix break-downs, and countless grocery sprints, the highs and lows blend together beautifully in my memory. I believe that is greatly due to the fact that the people of West Wichita are the warmest, friendliest and most sincere people on the planet.  They made our time away from home truly feel like home, and they will always hold a special place in our hearts for that.

In between the intense demands of work, we were able to squeeze in a little fun.  The easy-going rainy days are really what made trips to the park and pool with the boys and even a big 4th of July celebration possible.  I would be amiss if I failed to mention the guy up there on the left. Jonathan was Steve's right hand man this summer (as well as his farm-fashion advisor. Pearl snaps and aviators, anyone?).  Our boys grew to love him like a brother, and we will truly miss him when he heads back to K-State.

Will we do this all again next summer?  

Only time will tell, but for now, the forecast looks positive!

j

Back Story Blogging Week - Our Summer Harvest Adventures, Part I

Happy Monday, Sweet People!! 

So, so much going on around heeeerz that blogging is about as random and frequent as a a boy's clean room. There's so, so much to tell, yet so little time to tell it all! Not that you actually want to hear all the juicy tidbits concerning a crazy give-away I'm working on, why my Moscow Mule recipe will change your life, or why we are moving (yep, I said it - we're moving!).....

Oh, ya doot-da-do want to hear about it?? Okay, well, please send a super-nanny, a box of chocolates and something to caffeinate my brain and I'll dish it all out, with love, drama, correct spelling and complete sentences, too! Just kidding about the nanny and chocolate....sort of...I mean I wouldn't say no if you offered.  

Do you ever feel like your playing "catch up" with life? Can you feel my pain? You wake up one day and face the fact that you're seriously behind with life, so you vow to catch up on organizing closets, paying bills, cleaning everything, calling friends, shaving your legs, etc., etc. Now, I have to add blogging to that list.  Please, stay with me, while I spend this week catching up.  I promise it won't be terrible.  In fact, I've decided that it's officially Back Story Blogging Week.  Haven't heard of it?? Well, it's new, and it's awesome.

So, here we go.  Backstory numero uno: Our Summer Harvest Adventure.

I can already tell that this one is really gonna knock your socks off.  I mean really, who doesn't want to park it somewhere comfy and read my radical farming tales?? I'm just going to jump right out there and bet that almost everyone I know has read the Queen of bloggers, the Pioneer Woman's daily ranch report at one time or another. Her whimsy accounts of cattle branding and calf nuts are totally entertaining, but I think that's due to the fact that she also blogs about food and jewelry and entertainment and education and.....

And, well, you know I ain't got none o' dat -  no fashion, no food, no frolicks  - and I'm pretty sure that farm equipment is never going to sparkle quite like a well-worn pair of chaps on a well-worn pair of Wranglers (you haven't seen her photos??), but it's what I've got for now, so roll with me.

Late last winter, the farm was all a-buzz with exciting talk of the new tractors that were soon to be delivered to our door.  These weren't just any tractors, mind you, but a rare breed of tractors engineered in Germany by the name of Fendt.

If I haven't told you before just how much my husband LOVES to do research on farm equipment, I have failed to share a very important detail about him.  His love for equipment is comparable to my love for running.  What does he do when he can't sleep? He fires up Google and gazes at tractors 'till his little heart's content (I know, instant snooze-fest for me too!).

{From right to left: tractor, steamer, baler. Or, duck, duck, goose.}

Anyhoo, between the new tractors and balers and steamer (steamer low-down right here), I should have known a HUGE project was on the horizon.

Razor sharp, non-hormonal instincts confirmed.

Typically, during the summer, after wheat harvest is complete, Steve and his dad, Bob, work with area farmers to swathe, bail and stack their wheat straw (it's the stuff that's left over after the combine has cut the wheat). However, because of the severe drought we're in this year, most the wheat crop in our area was extremely thin and of low production.  That meant that we had to take our custom baling business somewhere else.  That somewhere else was central Kansas.

Once we realized we were taking the show on the road, the first order of business was to figure out how to transfer all of our equipment from one location to the other, the "other" being 3 hours east of here. The most logical answer was to drive some of it (if we held you up in traffic, my apologies), and haul the rest on flat-bed trailers using our semi trucks, .  If you've ever seen a traveling circus or carnival caravaning down the road, we might have looked a couple shades crazier than that! But, crazy is fun, right??

{Swather with header - unattached}

I spent the afternoon before the move avoiding laundry and snapping photos of the rigs as the work crew buzzed around the shop yard working hard to make sure everything was ready to head down the road safe and sound.  I have to admit, it was kind of fun being out there amidst all of the excitement!

Even the kiddos toddled around, climbing up and down the massive machines, mixing up tools in the shop, throwing rocks at each other and basically trying to be as unhelpful as possible.  Charlie gave us his usual dose of adorable. He is grandpa's buddy.  One sound of Charlie's sweet voice calling out "Papa" stops Bob in his tracks every time.  He always has time to hold his littlest grandson!

You might be wondering how we were able to get all of the equipment up onto the trailers. Some of the trailers have ramps that fold down allowing equipment to be driven up to the platform, but the swather trailer, which sits very low to the ground, did not, so it required Captain Equipment (my hubby, of course) to maneuver it into place.  Behold - my amazing videography/cheerleading skills:

In just a few hours, everything was loaded up, locked down, and the crew was ready to rock-n-roll.  Of everyone who was involved in this whole project, my son, Ben, would probably win the "Happy Farm Kid" award.  He's a lot like his dad when it comes to equipment love, and nothing would make his summer more memorable than to be able to hop in one of those tractors and work along side of his dad all day.

Can a 12 year old boy show a big techie-tractor who's boss?? I'll tell you more about that in Part 2 of tomorrow's back story blog of our summer harvest adventures!  Ya'll come back, now, ya hear??

   

Over -n- out!