Plow Through

'Those too lazy to plow in the right season will have no food at the harvest.'

Proverbs 20:4

One should never be too lazy to plow, especially at Autumn. Although I live in a small rural town now, when I was young I lived in the city.  The one time each year we headed to the country was during Harvest time.

We picked up our Halloween pumpkin.  Although  people by multiple pumpkins for their homes now, when I was a kid, our family bought just one.  The only year we had two, was when I bought my own with my allowance money.  I carved it and put it in my room, but within a few days, being inside, it began to rot and smell.  It didn't make it to Halloween.

We would also pick apples, and mom would make pies.  We'd buy fresh vegetables to both eat, and for mom and sisters to pickle and jar.  Most years, it was just my family and I, but once in awhile, if one of my siblings didn't go, one of us was able to bring a friend.  Those years, with a friend along, were the best.

We didn't have a lot of money, so we didn't eat out, we brought sandwiches, and dessert was one of the apples that we'd picked.  Sometimes we did get an ice cream on the way home, but we were never allowed to eat in the car, we pulled over, and eat at a picnic table by the ice cream place.

There were so many rules in my family, and believe me, when I was a kid I complained.  I fought, I argued, I had tantrums, usually about not stopping at McDonalds, and having to eat those cheese slice sandwiches.   I still hate cheese slices, but I do look back on those Autumn trips to the country with fondness.

Back then, it was the only time of year to see a goat or a cow, to smell the hay and to listen to my dad talked about how much he loved the smell of manure.   My dad used to loved when we drove down the highway, when we'd smell some manure, to roll down the window and joke about how much he loved 'scene de la caca'.  Anyone who know anything about manure, knows the worst...comes from chicken shit.  

Today, living in the country, I smell manure all the time, so often, I barely notice it anymore. The exception is sometimes in the spring, with just the right  breeze of wind.  I'm surrounded by fields, hay bails, farm animals and hot country guys.  I see cows on every drive, and every run or walk that I take.  Some even seem to recognize me when I breeze by.

As I've gotten older, my Fall trips, my Thanksgiving visits, have not been to the farm, but from it, to the city to see family.  There nice, but not nearly as memorable as those day trips, cheese slice sandwiches and all, to those Autumn adventures in the country.