Last weekend the kids and I headed back to the farm to spend a few days with my parents, brothers, SIL, and cousins. Mike stayed back in Rochester to … clean the carpets and windows! God Bless Mike!
Growing up on the farm, I can’t tell you how familiar certain smells are to me. My kids … not so much. When we arrived at my parents’ farm on Friday, we were quickly ushered to the shed to check out their new huge camper. It was fantastic and the kids have their next vacation planned now. When we left the shed, my two oldest kids acted like they were going to die. Several miles away from us there’s a plant, and I admit, it reeks. But to see Kadi and Ben … good grief! They had their shirts pulled over their noses and were running to the house.
My dad and brother raise hogs and when the wind is out of the east, it can get fairly ripe. I can’t say I enjoy the odor, but it’s familiar and I immediately have a dozen memories pop into my head. Harvest smells, though, are my favorite. There’s a sense of excitement in the air as the family worked together to accomplish something monumental before the weather began working against us.
This weekend my family tried to replicate some of our harvest traditions. We boxed up lunch and took it to the field to eat with Dave and Dad. I remember sitting on the tailgate of the pick-up eating egg salad sandwiches as a kid. If we didn’t make that effort, we simply didn’t see Dad for days on end. My kids huddled in the back of the SUV eating BBQs and chips before dividing up and going into various pieces of equipment … Caleb and I rode in the combine with Uncle Dave, Ben and Grandpa hauled a wagon down the field and met the combine when it was time to unload, and Kadi and Grandma took pictures and waited for their turn after we completed a couple of rounds. Can I just tell you that tractors, specifically combines, are nothing today like they were thirty years ago?! I remember sitting on the arm of Dad’s seat with a sweatshirt jammed behind me to try to make a cushy spot. Getting cozy was a lesson in futility, but our discomfort never prevented us from falling asleep. That part hasn’t changed. While the seats are wonderful and combines today even come with a wonderful “banker’s seat” for passengers, by the start of the second round, Caleb was slumping against me and fighting a nap.
When Ben and I took our turn waiting at the end of the field for the farmers, he turned to me and asked, “Is tomorrow Harvest?” It was kind of like “Is tomorrow Thanksgiving?” It’s funny … harvest was a huge part of my growing up life for at least 18 years and my citified chidren think it’s a one day holiday. Ben and I had a long visit about harvest and what it means. We also discussed what it means to plant and harvest spiritual seeds.
Ben may not remember our conversation for long, but I won’t forget it. I will also be making an annual trip back to the farm at harvest time. Some lessons are best learned sitting at the end of a field with chaff in your hair.
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I moved from rural Idaho to a large metropolitan area last year. When October rolls around in Southeast Idaho we think of spuds and the spud harvest. There is nothing like the smell of the dirt and spuds in the air…the dust everywhere and the busyness of the harvest. I hope to make it an annual pilgrimage with my kids too.
Growing up in a rural area, I, too, “appreciate” the “farm smells” and they DO evoke memories. You know you’re a true farm girl when you can tell what animal is by it’s smell! 🙂
We recently did a Harvest series at church! That’s what brought me to read this post! It is very important to talk about Harvest from a spiritual aspect!! Loved the post!
I grew up in a small town in Ne and to get to the next town we had to drive by a hog farm. I still remember that smell 20 years later. yuck! Driving past the corn when it was being harvested was a wonderful smell though.
I too grew up on a farm, but being a bit of a girly-girl I never truly appreciated the smell of hog manure or the particularly pungent odor of corral cleaning in the spring. My mother used to tell me it was the smell of money. If she intended that I therefore accept the smell and quit complaining…well, she was sadly disappointed! I did stop short of covering my nose with my shirt though…lol
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I know those smells very well here in Iowa! We live across from a cornfield. Like your blog:)
I’ll never forget the first time I saw a pig close up–I was about 10! My parents were missionaries in a Muslim country so of course, no pigs there. We went back to Westbrook, MN where my Mom was born and visited some friends who had a pig farm. This man was so proud of his pigs! He really didn’t know what to think of this 10-year old who had never seen one before and who was NOT impressed with their smell and the noises they made!
I think it’s wonderful for your family to have that experience of harvest. Nowadays we are so disconnected to nature and to our food. You might be surprised that Ben does remember this later very fondly.
I can just see them running for the house, eyes rolling and heads shaking – too funny! My kids have gotten in the habit of asking me, each time we go into fleet farm, if I want to stop to smell the tires. Yes, tires! My Dad ran a retread shop during my growing up years and I have very fond memories of that tire smell from playing hide and seek in the stacks, to the smell of his shirt going into the laundry…
My pastor is now doing a Harvest series too! I also just love the harvest season and have been enjoying my friend Cheryl also blogging about their life as farmers. I have been taking tons of pictures of fields and just love the rows and rows of corn. It is a great time of year!
I can just imagine your kids reactions to the smells, I remember when I was little I did the same thing, now it doesn’t bother me too much!
I like this post about Harvesting what is planted and also the reference to that “fresh country air!” .
We too are very familiar with the smells of growing up in the country. My 8 year old, also Ben, thinks the world is coming to an end when they spray that wonderful smelling liquid stuff on the field directly across from our house. For me, on the other hand, while it’s not exactly the most pleasant smell, it reminds me of growing up.
That is so neat that you are getting to share at least a little bit of your heritage with your children.
My mother talks about picking cotton in the 1940s and ’50s when she was a child. Then in the 1970s and ’80s she took us back to southwest Oklahoma where she grew up and had us pick a grocery sack full of cotton on her uncle’s farm. We thought it was great fun! We had no concept of the back-breaking work it was to do it for days on end with a long heavy cotton sack trailing along beside you!
Wow, I’m so unfamiliar with farm smells that I’d probably react like your kids!
Talking about the harvest reminds me of the seasons we go through in life. We have our winters when everything seems dead, Spring when we are in a growing phase, Summer when our life is very fruitful, and Fall when we are winding down to rest. I think I like the Fall the best 🙂
Haha, that’s so funny that they were so dramatic about the smells. 🙂 I grew up smelling all those animal smells and my husband thinks I’m crazy that I love the smell of horse manure. 🙂