I grew up on a farm. Farming is in my blood. The rhythms of the seasons, the smells, the sights, and the sounds. Agriculture is a great part of my life. And really it's a great part of what America is.
It's harvest season here in Idaho. The grain is ripe and the combines are churning though the fields of gold. The grain elevators in town have grain trucks lined up waiting to unload so they can go back for more. It's beautiful.
We moved to Idaho just as the farmers were getting ready to plant their crops. Then they spent the summer irrigating them. Irrigation is a great irritation in my life. Someday maybe I'll let you in on my experiences. But irrigation is necessary.
Last night the combines were churning away at the field around our house. And I'm the new lady in town who was out there taking pictures of it. I'm sure they all think I'm a nut. I wanted to holler at them, "I have a blog!" But I don't think they care if I have a blog. So I just smiled at myself and kept taking pictures.
Check out these camo grain trucks. Talk about repurposed.
Farmers are good at that you know. They have to be. There isn't a whole lot of money in farming these days. Seems they're too good at it for their own good any more.
But while we were standing on the road watching the sites, this comes our way.
Dang these things are big.
And they are EVERYWHERE!
Like giant bugs. It's almost as if there was a giant combine hatch around here.
For example, here are the two that were working on the field by our house. And if you look, in the background there's another.
Across the road there was another. And while we were standing there, TWO of them went by.
Brent even reported getting stuck behind one on the freeway one evening on his way home from work. You know it's harvest time here in Idaho when that happens.
Calla announced that she wants to buy a combine. Brent informed her that it probably would cost more than our house. I think he's right.
They harvest into the night, as long as it doesn't get too moist out.
And their wives let them.
Not that their wives are controlling. It's just that a farmer's work is never done.
And sometimes somebody has to help him draw the line.
Have I mentioned lately that I love Idaho?
Potato harvest is next. They are already preparing the fields. I'm excited to see this. We actually get two weeks off of school for the harvest. It's a lot of work apparently. Maybe I'll try to get in on it just so I can blog it.
I'm sure they'll think I'm a total nut then.
After four kids, ten moves and nearly two decades, we are still blissfully in love (most of the time) and I found myself back in the state I was born and raised in. It has definitely been a journey. In fact, on our 18th anniversary we pulled the last of our stuff up over the pass and into Montana, leaving our surprise love, Idaho, behind. But Montana is a great place. The last best place according to some. And we fully intend to explore as much of it as we can! Join us on our continued adventure through life, love and other stuff that comes with it.