Back to My Roots...Literally

I have had a really varied list of occupations over the years...accounts receivable clerk (my first job), food service, advertising designer, retail store management, radio/D.J....But the most unusual job I've ever had was last week. Many of you know that my significant other is a farmer, and last Thursday, he put me on a tractor. The country girl has really gone country now....and you know what? I loooooved it.

I have been trying to get a job since before Thanksgiving last year, gahhhhh. Nothing ever panned out, and I just couldn't figure out whyl. I just kept praying, "Lord, you know what is best for me, so if I don't get this job, I know it wasn't right for me." So, to my great delight, Boo took me to work with him, and promptly sat me atop a Case MX240. Now, if you have never ridden on one of these big ole' toys, you just don't know what you are missing. It's like having Big Foot and your favorite childhood Tonka toy all rolled up into one.

I spent many, many hours with Boo last year, riding with him in his tractor. He explained the whole process to me, including discing, spraying, planting and harvesting. I was totally fascinated by it all, and soaked up all the info he passed on to me. This is no haphazard operation...when you farm thousands of acres, you have to be consistent and do things a certain way, or you will lose money by burning too much diesel or time. So for him to put me one a tractor? Well, I considered it an honor. I was especially nervous because his dad would be there, too...and the thought of tearing up a piece of equipment? Let's just not speak of that.

Our job was to break the fields for the first and second time with a disc...then harrow or 'scratch' the field to smooth it and break up the dirt clods. So that's what we did. On Friday, just the two of us covered about 250 acres, and I have never enjoyed a job more. Being outside in the sun, rolling over acres and acres of land that I have grown up watching my whole life was a thrill. It was absolutely beautiful...the winter wheat was glorious green, waving in the slight breeze while birds and butterflies drifted along, soaking up the early spring warmth. I don't think I have ever breathed more deeply the fresh air, scented with the fragrance of the blooming jasmine in abundance throughout the piney woods.

I come from a family of gardeners (on a smaller scale), so it's no wonder I felt like I had done this forever. The smell of the freshly broken earth, the grit of the discs as they slice through the dirt, the constant groaning of the tractor...it was as though I had plugged into some conduit of familiarity that I didn't know existed, something from deep within my genes rang true. In my mind, I could see both my grandfathers on their respective tractors, breaking ground in very early spring, tending the ground with care so that they could produce abundance for their family during the coming season. I recall hearing my father talk about my great-grandfather Pa Rice plowing with his mule, Ole Jim, toiling manually in the hot summer sun. I remember how my mother loved to grow things...flowers, tomatoes, greens and onions. It's in my blood, and I cannot deny it...don't want to, in fact.

I have wondered about big farming my whole life, but now I know. It's hard, messy, inconvenient, dangerous and sometimes thankless work. It isn't a job, it is your LIFE. I have come to have an immense amount of respect and admiration for America's farmers. But sadly, many farmers across our state and this nation are having to give up their livihood, sometimes passed down from generations, because this country and it's government have let fuel and fertilizer prices grow to astronomical levels. More farmers were forced out of business this past year than since the great depression. This slow genocide of the farming industry has forced hundreds of families to give up the only way of life they have ever known...they are being forced to sell the lives they have worked so hard to make for pennies on the dollar. The very backbone of our country is slowly being forced out of existance, and we will all pay the price one day.

So the next time you are driving a country road and see a farmer working his fingers to the bone, give him a wave and a smile. He can use the encouragement...and he deserves the acknowledgement. My hats off to all the producers across these great United States.