October’s harsh wind
Precedes fall’s first killing frost
– Grey clouds give warning
Just a rock placed on a wind-swept post,
Somewhat odd and out of place.
Before it sat on a prairie fence,
It rested from its’ seismic race.
Always watched by sun and sky,
Guarded by sharp thistles and thorns.
Lonely now and all alone,
Lifted high in a awkward pose.
A little piece of a farmer’s thought,
This summer’s whimsy, fantasy art.
- Never dig an outhouse hole deeper than what you can climb out of.
- The fluffiest cats were always skunks.
- Grabbing an electric fence in never fun, despite what your older brothers tell you.
- The facts belong to whichever sibling is telling the story.
- To judge a man, look into his friends eyes.
- It is never good to take a bath in the same water as the youngest child.
- Brakes on a John Deere only work if you can reach them.
- The best neighbors come when you holler.
- A man plows straightest when he looks at where he is going.
- When your hands are full, it is harder to pick a fight.
– Clarence Holm
Dusty gravel roads
Near swaths of ripening wheat
-Father’s furrowed brow
I think of my father, especially when I am trying to solve a problem that requires some patience. When all seems lost, I think back to my days on the farm, remembering the endless chores and the way my father attacked them day after day after day. Dad’s stoic acceptance of running a small farm with old equipment held together with bailing wire and cardboard gaskets, in a weather cycle that didn’t produce enough rain to parch the sandy soil, taught me that even in a losing effort there are battles to be won.
Though our family gardens were doomed to be raided by the neighbor’s pigs and the Massey Harris combine and the old John Deere tractor were unwilling farm servants, dad always found ways to persevere. Even when most sane men would throw in the towel, his stubborn Midwestern will would drive him through the crisis.
I remember lots of happy times too. Noon-time meals with the entire family sitting down to meat and potatoes, covered in gravy served with Mom’s fresh white bread on a plate in the middle of the table. I loved hearing his lunch time dreams of tomorrow, when the next harvest would run over our bins.
I remember him during those times of joy and sadness and wish I could stand near him again to walk in those fields of Dakota. Even though Dad rests in peace, I just wanted to say just one more time, Happy Fathers’ Day dad; I love you this much.