Hard Work

Some twenty five years have passed and I still remember a little postcard my dad had pinned to the wall of our back porch: “I love hard work. I could sit and watch it all day.” That is one of those goofy little memories that make me smile from time to time.

About six years ago I 'came out of the barn,' so to speak. I told my programming cohorts... er... coworkers that I want to be a farmer; that I don't want to still be working behind a desk full time in ten years. Oh, the smiles and chuckles and interesting comments and questions still make me smile. Now, occasionally at work, I am affectionately referred to as FarmerKen.

One of my programming compatriots made the razor sharp observation that farming is hard work. “How are you going to do all of that? That is seriously hard work!”

Yup. How does one respond to that statement? It can be hard; damned hard. I remember waking at 4AM to get the pigs back in their pen; the 6AM and 7PM chores; fighting a water heater in single digit temps at 10 PM; putting up hundreds of hay bales in 80% humidity and 95 F weather; and the twenty hour days during harvest time. Hell yes, it is hard work. I know. I have been there, and I am going to be there again.

But hell. If I am going to be working my ass off for the rest of my life, I would much rather be doing something I want to do. And, well, the view from an office cubicle just doesn't suit me.