The Farm

The farm where Mrs. C grew up has been in the family for a long time. It's now owned by her youngest brother and his wife, although you can't make a living on it without another full time job. This is the view from the house to the west, something my wife saw every day.

The corn here looks great. However, there were pockets around the area where it seemed to be on death's door. I asked about it - all anyone could tell me was micro-climate, irregular and narrow bands of rain, and drainage. The plot below might not even be good for silage. 
     

Moo

Brother-in-law Mel's cattle in the far pasture. They might be curious because they had never seen a lens as big as my telephoto. At least it kept me at a safe distance.         

It's Okay, He's Supposed To Know This

Guns are as much a part of the culture of rural Kansas as lenses are of mine. I'm not going to editorialize about it. Some people hunt. Some just shoot targets, which is what is going on here. Above is my nephew Josh with (I think) an AK 15. He is a third year cadet at West Point, the United States Military Academy, so he is required to know this stuff. Below, D.J, my niece's husband, gives a lesson to Brody, my - I'm not sure - grand nephew? I get confused about the terms for more distant relations.

I've never owned a gun and never will. I've fired one just a few times, probably all in Kansas. The great emphasis on safety these people have is impressive. Where I grew up, the only people who had guns were the police and a limited number of bad guys. Different worlds.

      

Long, Straight Road

When you get off the main roads around Marysville the farms stretch beyond the horizon. Out in the countryside there are gravel roads, as straight as the land permits, spaced a mile apart. The square mile they enclose is known as a section.

It's pretty quiet out here except for the sound of farm equipment and the wind.                

Squash

I don't have any new local material so I need to pull from this and that. This is a run-down but colorful wagon that my sister-in-law, Pat, keeps beside the farmhouse in Kansas, full of a variety of squash. Just for decoration.

This made me curious about the origins of the word, since it has another, very different meaning in English. It's more complicated than you might think.                   

The Force Awakens

Mel keeps his giant harvester in a shed, looking ready to burst into action. It seems menacing to me, like some evil machine in a Star Wars movie. There was a post a year ago showing it in action on a sunny day.            

Rehab Job

The old barn needs lots of work but that doesn't mean that the family farm is down and out. There is another wooden barn in good repair (but not so photogenic) and new metal buildings for the machinery, as in the second picture. Mel and Pat still have cattle and grow hay and corn. They still need side jobs, though.                             

Very few photos this weekend. Freezing rain continued off and on through Saturday, limiting movement. The sky was leaden. The annual Santa parade, held on the Saturday after Thanksgiving, was postponed due to Marshall County's icy roads. It should get progressively warmer as we drive east on our way home today.

Winter In Kansas

We drove from Kansas City to Marysville, Kansas, Thursday morning in a cold rain. Nothing dangerous. We awoke Friday to find about a third of an inch / 8 mm of ice on the car. The main roads were fine but the rural gravel roads were glazed over. Slow, cautious driving.

Mrs. C's brother Mel and his wife Pat still live on the old family farm. They throw a big potluck dinner for the family on the day after Thanksgiving. The barn out back is in bad shape. It may be that Mel intends to restore it but there was such a crowd I didn't get to ask him.                 

In The Corn Truck

So what's inside the corn truck, besides corn, I mean? Kids, for one thing. I wasn't up to climbing the narrow ladder into the truck bed but the children and son Andy were. (Andy will climb anything available.) He took my camera with him and got the first and third photos. His wife, Claire, took the middle one.                   

City Daily Photo Theme Day: Workers

No shortage of workers on a farm, even though it can look like fooling around when company is over. The big four wheel drive pickup truck can get to most places in the fields but if you want to get anywhere fast you use an ATV. Brother-in-law Mel, a certified, actual farmer, demonstrates.

Just below, my son Andy pretends to be working. That's him in silhouette in the cab of the combine. Some corn got harvested but no job skills were acquired that are useful within the city limits of Chicago. In the end, Mel and his son Ryan got the corn kernels into the truck.

Photos of workers around the world from City Daily Photo members here. 

On The Farm

Out to Mrs. C's family farm for the day yesterday. It's been owned for some years by her youngest brother, Mel, and his wife, Pat.

There was one cornfield that hadn't been harvested. Mel said it had been too wet. So, having little better to do, he brought out the combine and grain truck and got to work. The combine is a monstrous, complicated machine that rips the ears off the stalks, the kernels off the ears, and then pumps it out a chute into the truck bed.

Mel gave son Andy and his wife, Claire, a lesson on driving the combine. Lots of levers and pedals. Not a driving experience he's likely to have on the streets of Chicago.                  

Seven-Toed Farm Monster

This behemoth sits out back on the old family farm, now run by borther-in-law Mel and his wife, Pat. I think these cost the better part of a zillion dollars and do something mysterious, possibly involving the harvest of corn. Their automation is so advanced that once you have run it around the perimeter of a field, you can press a button and the machine will, on its own, finish the rest precisely without human intervention. And some people want to know where their food comes from. Probably one of these.

Below, niece Tricia's husband Steve goes bombing around on one of several ATVs on the property. They have some purpose for work but mostly they are used for, well, just bombing around.          

                   

A Big Boy And His Dog

Here's STL DPB's version of Field & Stream, or at least Field. Niece Trisha's husband, Steve, and his trusty dog, Dakota, led the way on the annual day after Thanksgiving quail hunt. It was unsuccessful, as usual. I got off more good shots than the hunters. Good exercise tromping around in the fields, though.                 

Claire's Shooting Lesson

.

A tradition on the Kruse family farm on the day after Thanksgiving is to get out the shotguns. They attempt to hunt for pheasant, quail or whatever other innocent but edible birdies happen by. Yesterday morning there were more game birds on my decorative coffee cup than out in the fields. Some of that tomorrow, maybe.

After the usual enormous buffet lunch, a bunch of us go out to the back fields for trap shooting. This year, son Andy and special friend Claire drove 600 miles / 965 km from Chicago for the weekend. Claire grew up in a town in north central Michigan, about as rural as this area. Despite the environment, she had never fired a gun before yesterday. Not that Andy is steeped in rural lore, but his country cousins have taught him the system.

He provided patient instruction to an eager student. She might have understood it better if Andy had taken his cup out of his mouth. Note the look of concentration on Claire's face. Note the reason in the last picture for him to be very nice to her when they get home. She's ready for the streets of Chicago.

On The Farm

.

My brother-in-law, Mel, and his wife, Pat, bought the old family farm from my wife's parents more than 30 years ago. With the way agriculture has changed, they both had day jobs while they grew corn and raised cattle (and children). Four generations were hanging around the place yesterday, from 93 year old Elvira to five month old Sydney. The number of great grandchildren is beyond my comprehension (none contributed by my division to date, though). Some of them played on the old tree swing while the boys went out to skeet shoot.