|I was raised on a hobby farm east of Rothbury, MI. For several years I stayed in the house and helped my mother prepare dinner for my 3 older sisters and 1 brother. I would have to dust and do laundry while the food was cooking and prepare garden produce for what I now recognize as a fabulous dinner. And you know after you have worked hard hauling hay or putting up silage, workers are nearly famished at meal time. After all of my sisters and only brother began to leave the farm, who was left to help do chores during the day? |
One summer my father gave me the responsibility of “pitching one load of manure a day. ” What? Me? All the sudden I can work outside on the farm? And this is what I ‘get’ to do???? Well, there was no arguing with my father. So I hopped on the Farmall Super C and hooked up the spreader and backed it into the barn. Let’s just say that with the first couple of loads I had to carry the manure a little further than I wanted to. Getting that spreader into that doorway was a bit challenging for this cook! But I knew what I had to do and pretty soon I was able to back that spreader in the doorway—even though the spreader and tractor were cocked pretty funny when I was done, it was good enough for me!
It wasn’t long and some of my gentlemen friends began to stop by. We’d visit and I’d say “I have to get back to work” and they (being the gentlemen that they were) would pick up a 4-tine pitchfork and began to help. Amazing how fast the spreader was filled. Amazing how much manure they could fit on their pitchfork! I explained that my father said the spreader had to be FULL. No empty corner pockets and rounded over would be good. No problem. Before long I was driving that manure spreader out the driveway, past my mother’s kitchen window and down to the field. Mission accomplished!
Brenda Peeraer, from MI, entered 2002-09-04