Before the question was even asked by the fourth grade class my husband and I adopted through the Adopt-A-Classroom program with the Illinois Ag in the Classroom, I took it upon myself to explain what a farmer does during the winter months.  Contrary to popular belief and children’s books, winter duties do not include darning socks, housing livestock in the kitchen, or falling into a deep Rumplestilskin-type sleep, although that does sound rather enticing.

I explained the importance of book work and record keeping, equipment maintenance and general winter care of livestock.  We sent pictures of my husband and his brother hard at work in the shop welding, greasing, organizing and keeping busy while winter weather swirled outside.

What I neglected to write was that the busy work eventually runs out and soon the farmers – the active, outdoor, workaholics they are – come inside . . . bored to tears.

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When my husband and I met eight years ago, everyone agreed we were made for each other.  We were cut from the same cloth, born and raised country, both returning home with college diplomas in hand and ready to begin a life that included a family and a farm.  Perfection.

Except for one minor detail.  My family farmed red and my husband’s family farmed green.  

Just as you may bleed Bear blue on game day and your neighbor run wild with cheese on his head, in the country a farmer’s loyalty to his equipment color runs deep.  And never is that more apparent than during harvest and planting, when a farmer’s equipment – and its performance – is on full display.  

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Last night was Back-to-School Night at my son’s elementary school.  Families crowded through the doors to visit classrooms, the library, the gym, and the science room – by far the most popular with Buttercup the hamster, two aquariums of fish, two parakeets and the guinea pig Violet and her new baby.  Teachers passed out important papers about homework, the new report card, parent-teacher conferences and school snacks.

School snacks.  According to the handout I brought home the state requires school districts to form a wellness committee that focuses on “health and nutrition education as well as physical activity for students”.  In that effort, our district has mandated all snacks and birthday/holiday treats be store-bought and individually wrapped in order “to protect students with food allergies, prevent spreading illness and foster better nutrition.”  The handout listed suggestions of “healthy” snacks like packaged apple slices, fruit cups, baby carrots, and the list goes on.  

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On our farm we keep time in the summer by specific events and activities.  Like when the strawberries ripen and we pick twice, Or when the wild blackberries are ready, and we spend early mornings filling buckets in the patch.  The county fair, several annual neighborhood cookouts and town festivals help us keep track of our summer days.  Perhaps one of the most anticipated summer activities is doing corn.
 
“Doing corn” is not just an act; on our farm it is an event. Growing up, we knew when the first sweet corn landed on our dinner table, doing corn was not far away.  My mom would make the calls to family, neighbors and friends and a few days later our farm would be bustling with activity.
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Hello all.  My name is Katie Pratt and welcome to our farm. Literally. Welcoming tour groups to our farm is a family tradition starting back in the early 1970s when my husband’s grandfather hosted students from Chicago-area schools on his dairy farm.
 
Some of my best childhood memories are those that include the people who visited our farm.  There were the formal “industry” groups – farmers from Asia, Europe and Australia – visiting in the 1980s to see how my father was raising mother pigs and their babies indoors sheltered from Mother Nature’s unpredictable mood swings. There were friends and family from the city who brought new playmates and cousins with whom my sister, brother and I had great fun, racing through the rolling wooded pasture that stretched south of our farmstead. 

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