Work on the Farm: Nasty or Delicious!

Although there were a lot of good times on the farm, there were also plenty of times that weren't as nice.  Sometimes, I felt like the day would never come when I could leave for good. 

For instance, cleaning out the grain dryer after the grain had spoiled and there were maggots crawling around in the moldy, smelly grain.  There was a hole in the dryer, about 3 feet by 4 feet that we had to crawl through to get inside the dryer.  It was hot muggy work.  We carried a sturdy stick.  Not too big, but it had to be sturdy enought to not break when we shoved it down inside the bottom of the dryer, shoving the maggoty grain down through the holes at the bottom.  

It was awkward in there. There was a small area inside where we could lean against the outer wall, but had to twist to one side or another to get down close enough to the holes to poke at them.  The inner walls of the dryer ran horizontal to the outer walls, leaving a space about two and a half feet for our bodies to maneuver around in.  It was always hot, humid and smelly in there.  Once we got all the grain poked through the holes in the bottom, we could finally crawl around and get back out the same hole we entered through.  That was always a huge relief.  That was one of the nastiest chores we had to do.  We were very relieved when we grew big enough that we could no longer fit through the holes.

Another chore we hated was leveling the grain in the grain bin. This was back before they realized the danger of entering a full grain bin.   They had no clue that there might be air holes in the bottom of the piles of grain, that might collapse and suck us down into the bottom of the bin, smothering us, or even worse, pulling us down into the twisting, grinding auger that was running outside.  Luckily, we were never injured that way.  However, I had horrific allergies that made me have respiratory difficulties. I still have them today. The dust coming up from that grain was so stifling, it was hard to breathe or see.  Just entering the bins from the top of the roof of the bin was dangerous enough.  Another chore we happily outgrew.  That hole in the bin door was tiny, too.

Another of our nasty chores, mucking the pigpen, was pretty horrendous too. We'd be standing in the sloppy, slick, and sticky mud and manure of the pigpen. Our dad was running the tractor with the front end loader.  He'd lower the loader into the bottom of the pen, and we'd shovel the manure/mud into the loader.  Often we would lose our boots and/or socks in the muck and end up with frosty feet.  Eventually, we'd lose feeling in our feet and fall down. We'd get to crawl out of the manure/mud for a while to get warmed back up.  But eventually, we'd have to return to finish the job.  The shovels were heavy when filled with manure/mud.  And my balance has never been the best. But falling down in that mess was never very pleasant.

We learned at an early age that it didn't pay to argue with each other, or with our parents.  Their favorite punishment for our childhood mistakes was to send us out with a corn knife or a shovel to chop weeds, or clean out a shed or something.  

We also did a lot of irrigation chores in the summer.  We helped carry the pipe to the field, putting it into place. Always wearing heavy gloves to protect us from the hot metal and scratches and blisters.  The reward was getting to turn the water on finally and cooling off in the icy cold water.  After a few days, we were allowed to drink out of the pipes and tubes, after they had run for a while.  I'm sure it's a miracle that none of us became seriously ill from drinking out of that water.  It tasted so good though.

Herding cattle was challenging. The dumb animals never wanted to go the direction we were trying to push them.  So we'd have to run around in circles, trying to herd them in the right direction.  It was good exercise, I guess. 

Mama was pretty much in charge of the garden. Daddy would plow and plant the sweet corn with the big tractor, and he'd prepare the ground for the rest of the garden too.  But Mama was the one who planted the green beans, peas, carrots, lettuce, strawberries, and other produce.  Then we'd weed around them after they grew up enough to be identifiable.  They tasted so good after all the irrigation, weeding, harvesting, and preparation.  Mama canned a lot of veggies, but she froze the sweet corn, strawberries, and any peaches she was able to find.  We also had watermelon and canteloupe some years.  Nothing like farm produce when it's fresh. But it is a lot of work!