Growing and producing food is the hardest thing I’ve had to do. It is hot. It is dirty. It is hard work. It is long hours. But let me tell you it is worth every single second. The moment a whole field of corn emerges out of the warm soil is the moment it all becomes worth it. Sure, the hard work is far from over but a sense of relief rushes over me when I am able to see those tiny green sprouts in that big field. The most rewarding part of my job are these times. The times that I am able to see the results of my daily efforts. I would say it is because of these times that I love farming. I love to see all the hours and time I spend, turn into a usable and useful product.
It is an exciting sight to see all the stages of production happening on the farm. My life right now is 100% CORN- delicious sweet corn for my family’s table, and yours, field corn for the cattle’s dinner, and beautiful colorful Indian corn- CORN IS EVERYWHERE. We “sleep, eat, and breathe” corn. I mean everything, literally everything, revolves around corn this time of the year. We have sweet corn coming out of our ears, field corn over six feet high, and our corn maze is just a few inches tall. From the moment we planted in March I have been checking the progress of the fields every day. I dreamed of eating the first ready ear straight off the stalk for months. Oh my gosh, totally worth the wait.
My dad knows how to grow corn. He grew up in Creston, Iowa where all you can see for miles and miles is corn and soy beans. Growing up in Rural America Dad experienced a true small town. The old timers gathering at the coffee shop to gossip about the daily farm news, corn prices, and the weather. Every street corner is filled with tractors and farm equipment for sale. Everyone waves as they pass each other on the old town roads. Creston Panthers football is on every radio station and local TV channel, and everyone gathers at the local church for Sunday night dinner. Small towns and small town people are the best. Everyone is a family.
Dad was born on the last day of October, right in the middle of combining season. My Grandpa Duane was in the middle of combining the corn field when he got the call that Dad was being born. He rushed to the hospital, was there for the birth, and before anyone could blink an eye my Grandpa, Uncle Greg, and Dad were back in the combine. Not even a day old and my Dad was in that tractor. From that day on he was always working on the farm and learning all the farming tricks. He learned that only one good ear of corn comes off each corn stalk. He learned how to tell if the soy beans were dry enough to combine before he could read- take a pod off, stick it between your teeth, and bite - if it crunches it is dry enough to harvest. He even once got lost in the middle of the corn field when he was 4 years old and his dog, Rover had to come save his life. He grew up spending day after day working for my Great-Grandpa Leo on his farm. He lived corn and he lived soy beans- and oh how glad we are that he grew up the way he did. Because of his childhood we are blessed to have Arizona grown, Iowa Sweet Corn- the sweet corn I dream about.
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