Digging in my heels
For those who know me, I don’t have to explain why I use “reluctant” in my blog name. Or maybe I do. Does it mean I’m reluctant to live on a farm? Or that I don’t enjoy my environment? Or . . . ? Where does this reluctance come from?
.jpg)
Actually, if you would have told me 10 years ago that I’d be living on a farm and doing farm chores, I would have snickered a whimpy little “yeah, right!” But here I am, on a farm, and when the need arises, I do farm chores. Yeah! Right! It’s me. When I think about it beyond the “I should be painting my toe-nails and eating bon-bons” scenario, I believe my reluctance isn’t so much what you all might think it is. Let me work it through on this live journal page.
Prince Farming works at the office most of the week. His day off is Thursday (which isn’t “off” at all – it just means he works very hard at a different place on Thursday) and weekends. He also gets home at varying times on other days, which allows him to work on the farm on most afternoons – especially in the summer time when the office isn’t so busy and the days are longer. He is a work-a-holic and loves to get things done. He is very project oriented, and he ALWAYS finishes the projects he starts. That just amazes me, even after all these years. I admire it in him. That might also be part of my reluctance. The farm is a project. . . and do farms ever “get done”? Nope. Always a fence to mend; barn to repair; hay to mow, rake, bale, and haul; fields to clear; rocks to pick; cows to work; equipment to fix; etc. etc. etc.
I like to mentally prepare for what I’m going to do. And the farm doesn’t always allow one to plan or schedule work. If the cows are getting out, they need to be herded back and the fence needs to be mended NOW, not when I have an open time-slot next week. If I’m in the middle of a school project or have a scheduled work-bee, for example, but hay is ready NOW and it’s going to rain the next three days . . . you get the picture. So farming kind of ties one to the farm. Maybe 
that’s my reluctance. I’ve never lived anywhere for longer than 5 years – EVER . (Well, except till now). I love diversity. It might be a character flaw, but after I’ve lived in a place for a while, it’s easy to just move away, because it’s like a fresh start. A clean page. I miss friends from places past, but then I have a great collection of kindred-spirits all over, and an excuse and destination to travel. How lucky can a girl be? And I love to travel. But the more you do on a farm, the less you can get away.
Then comes the part about not failing. If I do something, I don’t want it to be a disappointment to someone else. So if I’m bush-hogging and an unsuspecting rock jumps out of the ground and kills the blade. . .I feel like I create more work than I save / do (very clumsy sentence). Or if I’m mowing hay and snag the fence row, there’s wire to be run again. I know that’s the cost of farming, and it happens to everyone. I just take it personally. And the learning curve for me on a farm is huge. This is my first experience – while Prince Farming has been doing everything I do since he was 10 or 11 years old. So he does it completely effortlessly. I learn something one year (like mowing hay with that crazy off-to-the-side mowing arm thingy) and the next year (or at the end of the summer) I have to learn it again – (how do you turn on the PTO? How to you raise the mower? {No – DON’T raise it this year, it gets stuck and requires all sorts of repair if you do. I’ll fix that this winter} How fast should I go and in what gear? Where the heck are those holes that were so obvious 3 weeks ago, but now could kill the tractor and the mower (and me) if not avoided? etc. etc. ) And maybe it’s my age – or this stuff just doesn’t come naturally to me – I can’t even remember all the things I should ask!
Because of my farming inexperience, my jobs are often the most mundane. I end up doing what I feel is “not much” (lots of standing around) because Prince Farming needs me to hold something in place, or hand him a tool, or go get something from the shed. I know that my help is invaluable. I just feel like in between times there are sixty loads of laundry I could be doing, or washing windows (what a joke – but it goes through my mind in times like these) or stamping, or reading, or painting my nails and eating bon-bons, or . . . anything but this!! Aunt Ruth, who lives with her farmer husband Uncle Robert, was smiling at me when I told her about the stuff I sometimes do on the farm. I asked her if she ever had to do that stuff on their farm. Her response was “I like helping him about as much as he likes me to help him.” So funny. They have an agreement. You do your farm thing, and I’ll be here to watch. Not my Prince Farming, though. He loves me to be right there, even if I’m doing nothing at all for most of it.
So the reluctance doesn’t mean I don’t love the farm. I just wasn’t anticipating this being my life. There is a lot that I love about being here. And there is a certain amount of satisfaction when local farmers (or not) drive past and watch with admiration as they see me hauling the rocks, or pulling the hay from the (formerly) open drive-shaft on the cub cadet. And then there’s the opportunity for character development and personal growth. I’ll share that as I’m aware of it. For right now - here I am. ReluctantFarmChik. Could have been InexperiencedAndWannaPlanTravelFarmChik. But that would sound like I’m an idiot itinerant farmer. . . not quite my message.
Tags: cows, farm, hay, laundry, rocks, tractor, windows, work
July 22nd, 2008 at 4:12 am
I’m pretty sure the idea of farming looks a lot more charming in my head than it might if I had to do some of the work you describe. (And for me to say I would prefer laundry over anything else? I’m not even kidding…)
Welcome to blogging! I’m going to make a (safe, I think) leap and guess that you’re the Deirdre that I’ve heard Madge and Louise talk about all these years? It’s great to meet you finally, even if just online. Thanks for stopping by my place and for your comment!
July 22nd, 2008 at 8:35 am
Deirdre,
I just found you through Jennifer H’s blog. Glad I clicked on your name. Don’t know who Madge or Louise are and so I haven’t heard of you for any number of years but I gotta tell you. Loved this post. I also loved the look of your blog. And Prince Farming? Inspired choice of name. As to what you wrote, I’ll tell you this much: Sometimes standing around giving moral support is all one need do and, it is no less important a job for the seeming inactivity.
If Prince Farming says he can manage it as long as you are standing pretty (but I bet you anything that it only feels that way to you) then you take him at his word because, he knows what he is doing better than you. You said so yourself.
I also don’t know anything about farming but I do know how to tell when someone is brave, fair and a consummate trooper. To me you sound like all that plus a glass 3/4 full kind of girl. Good combination right there.
Never doubt your ability to continue adapting. I’ve always thought that adapting is a daily changing situation. Never stationary and most definitely, never an end destination. You’re an adapter. Remember that.
July 22nd, 2008 at 3:52 pm
Milena - Thank you so much - not only for taking the time to read my post, but for your thoughtful response. You are right - I need to value what I do (even if it’s just standing pretty) as much as Prince Farming does. That’s a great observation. I clicked over to your blog - and thoroughly enjoyed my visit. I’ll be back!
July 22nd, 2008 at 5:11 pm
You need to do something to let me subscribe to this blog. So far I haven’t been able to. Call Amy before it’s bedtime.
I LOVE “Prince Farming.”
And I know why you’re reluctant. But this was a pretty good description. And I know you love the farm work because you get a nice tan. (But you’re going to have to start wearing tank tops.)
By the way, I’m soooooo jealous that you start with your own domain name and cool-looking blog. I can barely get an entry into mine let alone make it look nice.
July 22nd, 2008 at 5:19 pm
I DO wear tank tops on the farm. Even when the boards we’re cutting and nailing to the side of the new barn spew saw-dust and hay down the front and back and it sticks to the sweat that pours off me. And Prince Farming has declared flip-flops ridiculous as farm shoes. But if a person wears a tank top and shorts and BOOTS - it’s just not a good tan line. Quite a dilemma. I’d be interested to know if there are additional reluctance issues that you can identify. Maybe control? I have the “subscribe” thingy checked on my admin side, but it doesn’t show up. Got to call Amy. And you can get a free theme at wpthemesfree.com or at http://themes.wordpress.net/ (just make sure the description says they’re widget-ready.
September 25th, 2008 at 7:34 pm
[...] biggest Farm Regret is not being able to travel. There’s always so much to do. Since I’ve been [...]