Down on the farm

The Farm where Small Boy spends his Wednesdays with the grandparents is a working farm (that's part of what makes it so fun, I'm sure - all that machinery). R's parents are in the process of transitioning to retirement as R's younger brother takes over the farm. Well, technically they are retired but at harvest and/or threshing time when lots of extra hands are needed they're still doing a lot of work. They raise crops, mostly corn, wheat, potatoes, and sugar beets. Even with machinery, potatoes are labor intensive and every summer since I've known her R's mom has turned up black and blue after the potato harvest. She really needs to stop helping already, but I don't think she can. She grew up on a farm and married a farmer and raised a farming son and god willing she'll die at home on the farm she loves.

Small Boy loves his days at the farm and he's an outdoorsy boy and he's all about the tractors and trailers. I want for him what he wants for himself and he could do a whole lot worse than being a farmer, but it's a hard life, physically and financially, and I'll be honest when I say that I hope his heart pulls him, ultimately, in other directions. I have tremendous respect for family farmers, for R's family, and I know full well I'd flat out starve without the farmers of the world, but I guess I'd feel better if I saw Small Boy do other things in his future. (I have the same feelings about Small Boy's other current obsession, the Feuerwehr - fire department: I have all the respect in the world for firemen but I'm not sure I want my own son to do something so risky for a living.)

However. Small Boy just helped out with his first harvest and I'm so proud. He helped cover the sugar beets. Big piles of sugar beets.


He carried sugar beets and used them to weigh down the ends of the tarp, like this:


He showed us the piles today when we went to The Farm and was so proud of himself.

My Big Boy.