I am glad to be back in SD after a (very fun) nearly two weeks in Missouri. It is time to plant corn, so it has been crazy busy around here from Tuesday to Saturday. I haven’t even fully unpacked my bags yet. Thursday, it tried to rain most of the afternoon.
However, John was able to keep planting until after dark. Friday night, he planted until 1:30 am before getting rained out.
This is all quite new to me since I grew up a cattleman’s daughter and not a farmer’s daughter! Thursday, I drove nearly 100 miles running parts, more seed corn and lunch to the fields! All that driving was within a ten mile radius, too.
Another time, I hauled 1,000 pounds of seed corn in the back of my car. We put it there in case it started raining.
For the first time, I feel I am living out the lines of the poem I wrote a few weeks ago: “So God Made a Farmer’s Wife.”
Sure, I’ve helped my Dad before – but this is different! When I helped my Dad it was very rarely around large equipment. Mostly, he and I built fence, checked cattle and went to the sale barn to work. Planting corn & the dynamics of a soon-to-be “farm marriage” is way different! Luckily, it hasn’t been all work and no play since I got back.
I took time to plant some flowers in the planters I received as shower gifts in Missouri.
My Mom’s first cousin Robert made the “God Bless Our Home” planter. I just love it! I shared a photo of it yesterday, too.
This is the first time in my life that I have panted flowers with out my Mom or sisters by my side. It was a strange growing-up-rite-of-passage sort of feeling. So, from planing corn & to planting flowers it has been a week of change for me. (The word homesick comes to mind.)
While I was re-potting the flowers I noticed that several of them were “root bound.” Meaning, they had been in too small of a container and the roots didn’t have enough space. Then, I had a sort of deep, profound thought. This usually happens when I am outside, dirty and working.
People can get root bound, too. We all need to be transplanted to a new pot from time to time, or season to season. The new space allows us to grow and change. That’s the stage I am in now. Over time, if those little plants were not moved to new soil…they would have weakened. Plants, and people, need new spaces. It is not just a move from Missouri to South Dakota. In this case, it is more about moving from a single woman to a wife. Or, a college kid into the “workforce.”
There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot. Ecclesiastes 3: 1-2
I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful. John 15:1-2
Of course, adjusting to new soil & pruning isn’t easy or pleasant. But, it is good. At Christmas, my Dad told me that my first year in South Dakota would be the most exciting. He is right, everything is so new! I am definitely in a season of uprooting and planting at the same time. I am uncomfortable, unsure and unpracticed in this new role and place. Yet, I am happy and content. I still get lost on the gravel roads as I try to find “Jones” or “the west 80 past so & so’s home place” or the “big cottonwood tree.” I still go to the grocery store three times a week instead of one. But, I am learning!
Thanks for reading, Sierra Shea
This one made me cry, you totally transported me back 23 yrs to my first year as a farm wife. I didn’t move as far from home as you have, but the changes are all the same. I finally asked David for a ‘map’ labelled in the slang that they refer to fields as one year, he kinda laughed and by the time it was mentioned again, I had learned most of them. I remember the week before our wedding, we were finishing wheat harvest (we got married on July 14th) and I was supposed to take a truck to a field for his Grandpa who was combining so he could dump. I thought I knew exactly where I was supposed to take it. Got there, couldn’t find his Grandpa and then started second guessing myself and drove all over western Audrain county on fumes (I noticed fuel gauge, assumed it didn’t work) before I finally found my way back to the house………..sigh
Your dad is right, LOTS of new adventures ahead you darlin! Keep writing and sharing them, I love reading them all!
I had the pleasure of hearing your father read this blog to us at lunch! Needless to say, we were in tears before he finished. I had to find your blog when I got home from the Angell wedding preparation day!! I agree with Kathy….Keep writing!!
P.S. Greg graduated from South Dakota State! What a small world…sort of!!! If you get lost in North Dakota call him. He lives way up north!!
as the others have stated , this also brings back memories of a young farmers wife,
these times are the best you will experience.
Sierra, I just loved reading this only it brings me back to when I lived at home and had to help dad with hauling the soybeans, corn, wheat to the fields. I never will forget the time he told me to drive the ton stick truck home and so I got in thinking I knew what I was doing and well I just ground all the gears until it went. It was a trip to get out of the field then. I am glad John is teaching you the farming way of life as you taught me all about the cows while babysitting and pulling calves. 🙂 Just make sure that if you get lost don’t tell someone that you are John’s wife and just trying to get home. LOL I have heard a story like that growing up in the neighborhood and it makes me laugh everytime.
This post reminds me of my first summer as the wife of the son of a farmer. We spent much of our first summer of marriage on Howard’s folks’ Montana farm. One of the things that surprised me most was the amount of food consumed each day. There was breakfast in the early morning, lunch at mid-morning, dinner at noon, lunch in mid-afternoon, supper, and an evening snack. The quality of light throughout the day on the Great Plains is a sight to behold.
A lovely post Sierra.