ADVERTISEMENT

ADVERTISEMENT

ADVERTISEMENT

A time for nostalgia and a time to get it done

Some people outside of farming have unrealistic views about how romantic it should be. While there is something very special about farming, it is filled with headaches, heartache and worn hands.

SilageChopping.JPG
The silage bag-filling process was underway on Sunday, Sept. 8, 2024, at the Johnson Farm in Verndale, Minnesota.
Michael Johnson / Agweek

I have a lot of nostalgic memories of growing up on my parents' dairy and crop farm in rural Verndale, Minnesota.

That’s often what has me wanting to go back to it to relive some of those moments in time. It’s important to remember that what I did on the farm may sometimes have been helpful, but was little in the overall operation's day-to-day success. For a farm to succeed takes planning, execution, endless work and the willingness to learn from others and your mistakes. It can be a dangerous place and not every moment will give you warm fuzzy feelings. You can’t simply do things out of nostalgia and hope for success.

ADVERTISEMENT

Trust me, we’ve figured that out as we ventured into the romantic world of market gardening. You have visions of beautiful displays of vegetables, canned goods, flowers, baked breads and flowing honey. Using no sprays makes us feel good, but I can see how it does not work on larger scales. America’s farmers understand what it takes to feed, fuel and clothe, and it’s not going back to a majestic team of horses to manage your field work.

Our high tunnel has at times been heavy with crops ready to be devoured. Yes, we were able to put that on display at least one day a week for customers to see the best of the best at the local farmers market, but we weren’t inviting them to see the frustrations that we faced in the field.

ChoppedCorn.JPG
The first few rows of dryland corn are chopped Saturday, Sept. 7, 2024, near Verndale, Minnesota.
Michael Johnson / Agweek

Our social media posts showed the best of the best, but behind the scenes were hours under the sun pulling weeds, plucking potato bugs, chasing chickens, deterring deer, making sure everyone has enough water, but not too much. The salad greens were at times great, other times bitter. Just when some squash were ready, they were chewed on by a pack of vicious voles. When the grass is cut, weeds pulled and flowers are in bloom, you might for a fainting moment take it in and enjoy it, but just wait a few more moments for the weather to turn nasty and put your hopes in a tizzy. It wasn't always pretty, but we found it was worthwhile.

Now, I still believe farming is romantic. And as much as some in agriculture want you to remove that idea from your brain, please reconsider. The way I see it, there has to be more about farming than just collecting a paycheck. If that’s all it is, then there are far easier ways to make money.

I returned to the family farm now run by my brother and his wife this weekend. I wanted to help with the silage chopping process and had visions of the days when I’d haul silage boxes brimming with fragrant corn silage back to the farm. Instead of a tractor, I drove my brother’s truck back and forth from field to farm. I’ll admit, some of the charm of the chore was lost with the comforts of a pickup truck and the open road. It meant more time dealing with impatient drivers instead of gear jamming down two-track farm trails.

ChoppedCorn1.JPG
The chopped corn looks like a tasty salad and is eagerly devoured by hungry cattle.
Michael Johnson / Agweek

But it made more sense when the field was miles away on rented ground to use the faster mode of transportation. The rest of the process was quite similar, though my brother has broken the sacred code of “only Ford tractors on the farm” by using an AGCO-Allis to chop with. Just kidding. Whatever gets the job done is the right tractor to use, in my book. And it handled the chore well.

Chopping went well. The dryland corn is beautiful this year. Last year, the corn was so crisp from drought it wasn't even appetizing to the deer.

ADVERTISEMENT

The silage still smells sweet and takes me back to those days when dried corn leaves would float across the farm yard each September, back when we filled the farm’s two concrete silos to the brim in order to feed our young stock and a small group of dairy cows that kept the big barn warm through the coldest days of winter.

Michael Johnson is the news editor for Agweek. He lives in rural Deer Creek, Minn., where he is starting to homestead with his two children and wife.
You can reach Michael at mjohnson@agweek.com or 218-640-2312.
Conversation

ADVERTISEMENT

What To Read Next
Get Local

ADVERTISEMENT