We Bought a Farm: Make Hay When the Sun Shines

There's a lot of "sayings" that surround farming I've come to realize. Many of them, I've used in my life, but I didn't really understand how true they were until I became a farm"her." 

"Make hay when the sun shines."

I'm really not sure I can think of a statement with more truth when it comes to farming. The weather is such a HUGE and INTEGRAL part of your life when you are a farmer. Before I farmed, it affected me very little. Maybe a softball game would be rained out. Maybe a picnic ruined. 

But until you watch an entire planting of trees die because of drought or found yourself trapped inside while hours creep by that you need to be getting something outside done, you really can't appreciate how much water and weather affect the farmer. 

Bad rain shut down brooder building (because it needed to start with cement) for nearly two weeks -- putting us two weeks behind schedule. What can you do about this? 

Not much unfortunately.

When the weather is good, you must utilize every single free minute that you can. Today, the weather was a bit cool and windy, but beautiful. So Dad and Jacob (JB was working) were feverishly working on the brooder. Gabe helped a ton yesterday. Even Isaac and Sidge are getting strong enough to start helping with some stuff. And, because the sun was shining, in-between my teaching, I jumped in to do any trivial task that they needed done.

I've realized this is my calling on the farm ... and kind of in life. I don't think I'm particularly gifted in anything. I don't write that for pity. I'm okay with it. But I am big. I am strong. I am willing. I am good at being told what to do. So if you have a menial job you need done, I can do it. There are brains that have to be doing the building on the farm. Or the planting. Or the hoof trimming. That's not me. But me can be with them doing the dirty work that they need done to get their job done. 

A big one that I did both before and after our 1pm Sonlight History class was moving blocks. Grama actually got a picture of me in action today. I am not sure what I am more happy about, getting to carry two 37-pound pieces of cement ... or my purple boots. I love my purple boots. 

It's simple. Each of these blocks weighs ... a lot ... of pounds. Each must be moved "into position" when they are needed. To have Jacob or Dad -- who are doing much more "important things" doing this, is a waste of their time. My boys are just now able to lift one at a time. I can do two (but after about ten trips, I drop to one.) So, I moved block in-between lessons. I moved sheep after lessons were over. I put the chickens to bed late at night. I did whatever I could, whenever I could, to make the most of the sunny sunshine. 

Below is a picture of Jacob and Dad doing the more "deep" work. Jacob is making mortar, and Dad is laying the block. I was simply delivering it to them for usage: 

A smile from Grampa while he is working as hard as he can to use the good weather well:

The list of things I have added to my repertoire since agreeing to move to a farm in East TN with my nature-loving husband is miles long. I flashback to my favorite book (next to the Bible) and a quote that really stood out to me. 

“I had come to the farm with the unarticulated belief that concrete things were for dumb people and abstract things were for smart people. I thought the physical world — the trades — was the place you ended up if you weren’t bright enough or ambitious enough to handle a white-collar job. Did I really think that a person with a genius for fixing engines, or for building, or for husbanding cows, was less brilliant than a person who writes ad copy or interprets the law? Apparently I did, though it amazes me now.” -- Kristin Kimball, The Dirty Life