There is no doubt among farm kids that it is the farm that really calls the shots, even more than your mom or dad.
Time is shaped by farm needs and demands, though the clock and the calendar manage to set their own constrictions.
When my dad was a kid, he said the only time he paid any attention to the clock was when he was imprisoned in a school’s classroom. He insisted there were times the classroom clock seemed to freeze and maybe even tick backward. He couldn’t wait to escape to get back home to do some farming.
I once asked him if at least a part of him enjoyed school. I actually later in my life videotaped him answering this question. “Not really. I learned more from my grandfather than I did in a classroom.
That man knew so much about how the Earth provided throughout the various seasons. Grandpa loved to go fishing when the work was done, and I learned early on I didn’t really have the patience for that, so I would beg him to give me a list of jobs to do before he went fishing. I was a happy boy working on that list.”
Dad recalled watching his Grandpa walk toward the Jerome Fork, bait bucket in one hand, fishing pole over his shoulder. He would often return with enough fish to feed the family dinner and an arrowhead or two in his overall pocket for his grandson. That was the little boy’s payment for keeping their work agreement a quiet one, a pact that kept them both from a scolding.
Children given responsibilities are less likely to get in trouble, simply because there is very little idle time on their hands.
This realization carried into the way my dad raised each of his children, and later the young people he would hire. We had a balance of fun while accomplishing necessary chores, but our sense of responsibility grew right along with us as we matured.
“Don’t do anything half. It will take twice as long to go back and undo the damage before you can finally get it done right.” This was one of the first sayings I ever learned from Dad, and I learned it well. He was also vocal in saying that too many people spent more energy avoiding work than just jumping in and getting it done.
I enjoyed school, but my favorite part of the day was heading to the dairy barn long enough to grab the stock cane and then setting off for the big pasture along with our herding dog, Bill, to sweep the milk cows toward the holding pen off of the milking parlor.
There was no better job anywhere on the farm than that one, so peacefully productive.
