Page Toppers

Quotes

• Agriculture is the earliest and most honorable of arts. (Rousseau)
• Don't shoot the I.R.S. man, just give him your ranch and in a few months he'll shoot himself.
• Farmer to wife at breakfast:
  "I've been baling hay for 3 weeks, Mary. Do you have to feed me shredded wheat?"
• A farmer tills it like it is.
• Farmers are down to earth.
• Farming looks mighty easy when your plow is a pencil and you're a thousand miles from the corn field.
• The glory of the farmer is that, in the division of labors, it is his part to create. All trade rests at last on his primitive activity. He stands close to Nature; he obtains from the earth the bread and the meat. The food which was not, he causes to be. (Ralph Waldo Emerson)
• He who marries a wife reared on the land marries strength and purity and compassion. (Beecher)
• I am not bound for any public place, but for ground of my own where I have planted vines and orchard trees, and in the heat of the day climbed up into the healing shadow of the woods. (Wendell Berry)
• I wasn't born on a farm, but I got here as fast as I could!
• Man - despite his artistic pretensions, his sophistication, and his many accomplishments - owes his existence to a six inch layer of topsoil and the fact that it rains.
• A motorist, after being bogged down in a muddy road, paid a passing farmer $10 to pull him out with his tractor. Back on dry ground the motorist remarked to the farmer, "At $10 a crack I'd think you'd be busy pulling people out of the mud night and day."
  "Wish I could," replied the farmer. "But at night I have to haul water for the hole."
• Question on a Department of Agriculture survey:
  "Which pest gives me the most trouble?"
  "That's an easy one to answer - the Department of Agriculture!"
• Sun, soil and rain come together in Iowa as in no other state. Poet Robert Frost, who lived on New England's rocky slopes, once looked at Iowa's thick, black soil and said, "It looks good enough to eat without putting it through vegetables."
• There is always a different, more kindly look in the eyes of women who live on the land.
• To life happily in the country one must have the soul of a poet, the mind of a philosopher, the simple needs of a hermit - and a good station wagon.
• To own a bit of ground, to scratch it with a hoe, to plant seeds, and watch the renewal of life - this is the commonest delight of the race, the most satisfactory thing a man can do. (Charles Dudley Warner)
• Wife to farmer as they return home at sunset:
  "Thanks for a wonderful vacation, I enjoyed the whole day."

Things a Good Farmer Knows

• Always drink upstream from the herd.
• A bumble bee is considerably faster than a John Deere tractor.
• Do not corner something that you know is meaner than you.
• Don't interfere with somethin' that ain't botherin' you none.
• It is a rule of nature that taking a day off on a farm sets a person back at least a week. (Jane Hamilton)
• Life is simpler when you plow around the stump.
• Timing has a lot to do with the outcome of a rain dance.

Page Ideas

• Make a barn from cranberry paper, use white to make hayloft window and big door.
• Strips of green (multiple shades) as a 2" bottom border, like crops in fields. Or use ////// diagonal strips. Silhouette tractor picture and use it as the "die cut" in the "field".
• Cut off the top of the schoolhouse to make a barn. Follow the slant of the roof and bell - there will be a flat spot but it looks OK. Use a 2" strip of brown paper for a bottom border. Set the barn up on the strip so it looks like it is in the distance. Scatter the farm animals from the heritage pack close to the bottom of the strip so they appear in the foreground. You can open the barn doors.
• Cut the word 'harvest' out of photos of wheat fields.
• A Tractor Up Close

Farming

(Rea Williams)

Farming has always brought me peace,
It's a partnership with God-
I plant the seeds, He makes them grow
Where before there was only sod.

Through hot summer days I cultivate,
He sends sun and rain-
Then when autumn cools the air
There's harvest of golden grain.

The Farmer

Sun is coming up
Farmer's out the door,
He will go to milk the cows,
And start his daily chores.
Sun is going down
Horse is in the stable,
All the fields are planted now,
Supper's on the table.

Farm Alphabet

A is for the apples that grow on trees.
B is for the barn where animals live.
C is for the cow that gives milk.
D is for the dog that guards the sheep.
E is for the eggs we eat for breakfast.
F is for the farmer who works on the farm.
G is for the garden where food is grown.
H is for the horses and the hay they eat.
I is for the ice cream that is made from milk.
J is for the jelly that we eat on toast.
K is for the kids which are baby goats.
L is for the lambs that supply us with fleece.
M is for the milk that we like to drink.
N is for the nest in which eggs are laid.
O is for the overalls that some farmers wear.
P is for the pigs that cool off in the mud.
Q is for the quilts that keep us warm.
R is for the rooster who crows in the morning.
S is for the silo where silage is kept.
T is for the turkey we eat at Thanksgiving.
U is for the udder that you find on a cow.
V is for the vines where pumpkins grow.
W is for the wool that we get from sheep.
X is for X-mas-tree farms where we buy our tree.
Y is for the yarn that is made from fleece.
Z is for the zinnia, a flower that's nice.

The Farmer

(Sue Ikerd)

He has been a farmer all of his life,
long before he took a wife,
he knew he was meant to work the soil.
His days on this earth would be spent in toil,
planting the crops and clearing the land.
This was all part of the Master's Plan.

As in his father's and grandfather's days.
For generations this had been the ways.
in which they would work the land and the sod,
drawing nearer to nature and communing with God.
To each of his neighbors he lent a hand
They worked together to farm the land,
in autumn when the harvest came,
each one in turn did the same.

All through the week they labored each day,
but on the Sabbath they gathered to pray.
To thank Him for His blessings and love,
what they gathered on earth had come from above...
When his children were born he watched them grow.
He taught them the lessons so they would know,
and learn the ways of country and farm,
of love, truth, respect and to do no harm
to creature on land or those in the air,
and to be good stewards of the land in their care.

He watched them ride horses and float down the stream,
but he knew that their future could not be his dream.
This farmer he realizes that he has wealth beyond measure,
because here on this farm he has found all his treasure.

With his family around him, for wealth there's no need.
With all of His blessings he's a rich man indeed.
His breed is a rare one, it's becoming extinct,
with this world's busy lifestyle, there's no time to think.
Life's becoming too hectic and people miss out,
on all of the beauty that lies roundabout.

This farmer can see it as he goes through his days,
From bird's nests to sunsets, each free for the gaze.
The path that he's taken is different than most.
He's content in his heart and has no need to boast.
His drumbeat is different but he follows its sounds,
with his dog by his side he walks over this ground,
of the land that he loves, he will do it no harm,
The place of his birth, the old family farm.

A Farmer's View of Those in Charge

(Vana E. Prouse)

This is rather controversial but it adds a little humor to an otherwise sad situation.

THE LOCAL BANKER
Leaps tall buildings in a single bound;
is more powerful than a locomotive;
is faster than a speeding bullet;
thinks he can walk on water;
gives policy to God.

THE PRESIDENT
Leaps short buildings with a running start and favorable winds;
is about as powerful as a toy locomotive;
is slower than a speeding bullet;
walks on water in his indoor swimming pool;
talks to God if special request is granted.

THE STATE GOVERNOR
Makes high marks on the wall when trying to leap tall buildings;
is run over by a locomotive;
can sometimes fire a gun without inflicting self-injury;
dog paddles;
talks to animals if they'll listen.

THE SENATOR
Can't even find a tall building;
plays with his toy train;
shoots himself in the foot almost every time;
takes a respirator to the pool;
talks only at election time.

THE DISTRICT REPRESENTATIVE
Runs into buildings;
recognizes locomotives two times out of three;
is not issued ammunition;
can stay afloat with his inflatable ducky;
talks to walls.

THE ASCS OFFICE MANAGER
Falls over doorsteps when trying to enter buildings;
says look at the choo-choo;
wets himself with a water pistol;
plays in mud puddles;
mumbles to himself.

THE AMERICAN FARMER
Lifts tall buildings and walks under them;
Kicks locomotives off the tracks;
Catches speeding bullets between his teeth then eats them;
freezes water at a single glance;
walks and talks with God.

Ah, Wilderness!

(by William Mueller)

People who have never made hay think of it as a simple process. A machine shaped like a flattened dinosaur is pulled behind a tractor. From the end of this fearsome machine-monster, bales are belched at regular intervals.
Later, another tractor appears, pulling a wagon with some people standing on it. Beside the wagon walk other people, who pause to fetch these bales, turning them over to the people on the wagon who cheerfully stack them in neat rows.
The reason everyone is so cheerful is obvious - they are communing with nature. No doubt they will soon be served one of those famous farm-style meals in the shade of a huge tree.
I have made hay when it almost turned out like this. But I do see two things wrong with the vision. First, something usually takes place to make haymaking less than perfect; and second, there are as many ways to make hay as there are people doing it.
You can blow it, pile it, compress it, or tie it - with twine or wire. It can be shaped into rectangles and cubes, or be made to look like shredded wheat, or loaves or bread, or giant mushrooms, or the dash marks a writer uses in his copy - - -.
What does it all mean? Well, for one thing, it means there is more to this haymaking than meets the eye. It is not all beer and skittles, as the urban transcendentalist would assume.
Say, for example, you are to load 60-pound bales into a flatbed truck. The field is three-quarters of a mile long, so you take the job in the back of the truck.
What you discover soon enough is that each time, as regular as clockwork, you stack the bales up to the fifth row, it is necessary to reach over your head to do so. Each time you swing a bale to that height it pinches the muscles in your shoulders, and your legs begin to shudder, and your stomach tightens.
Sound terrible? But that is a piece of cake compared to the loading of round bales, and you must use a hook to hoist them aboard. Most round bales weigh 70 to 80 pounds, and the ones I worked with were wrapped in wire.
Wire can cut the palm of your hand to shreds. It can leave your fingers numb for days. Even with a very sharp hook the haymaker must be careful to aim the hook at a precise angle when sticking the bale, because it will careen off the tightly packed bale and complete its arc in the meat of your leg.
Once you have sunk into the bale, then it is snapped off the ground quickly, swung on board with a twist of the wrist, caught on the hip, swung, and dropped on the pile.
At the speed you must go, a person soon begins taking shortcuts. You catch the bales on the thigh, and instead of using your arms and shoulders, you use your wrists. By the end of the day your legs are trembling so badly you can barely stand. But the wrists take the worst beating. The constant strain of the bales makes every tendon ache. After it is over, you can barely hold a cup of water to your lips.
Many times, everything about the haymaking has been good except for a single detail. Perhaps the dust is so thick around stacked hay that you cannot breath, or the heat in the loft makes your body slick with sweat, which mixes with straw to run into your eyes, but there is no dry spot to wipe your eyes clear, so you work on - half blind.
Or perhaps you are stacking round bales in long rows and the bottom row gives way, sending them collapsing down around your legs and knocking you over. Or maybe it is the wire that has worked through your gloves, or one muscle you pull early in the day.
But I have to admit there are many good things about haymaking. The smell of fresh-cut hay is an aroma a person recognizes for the rest of his life. He sucks it eagerly into his lungs no matter what he has gone on to be.
And there are things about a hay-making day that can only be felt after you have lived through it - the way the sun looks going down with the last load, the sound the tractor makes opening up on the road with your last trip to the barn.
And there is the way people can come together in haymaking and reach a point where no one needs to speak to be understood. It is an exhausted, peaceful, accomplished time.
It is the sort of time we could use always.

You Might Be a Farmer If...

• Your dog rides in your truck more than your wife.
• You convince your wife that an overnight, out-of-state trip for equipment parts is a vacation.
• You have had to wash off with a garden hose before your wife would let you in the house.
• You've never thrown away a 5-gallon bucket.
• You have used baling wire to attach a license plate.
• You have used a chain saw to remodel your house.
• You remember the seed population and yields on a farm you rented 10 years ago, but cannot recall your wife's birthday.
• You have fibbed to a mechanic about how often you greased a piece of equipment.
• You have used a velvetleaf plant as toilet paper.
• You have driven off the road while examining your neighbors crops.