I was less than excited during our first year of marriage when Dale excitedly (seriously) took me “home” to Uncle Howard’s farm so that we could help hoe weeds out of the bean field! There were more exciting times when he went to help bale, etc. but combining wheat or corn—actually driving the combine—was the cat’s meow. I had to say that because yes, he liked cats, oh my.
It would be quite a long way from honest to say that loving-everything-farm is a genetic family marking. However, I am living for these past few days in the land of pretend.
So this is really about my sweet everything-farm grandsons, okay the farm part is a stretch but not the sweet part and the farm part was true for the morning.