I have been back farming for 6 years now; but at the beginning I think my dad was very hestitant to give me a job. Not because he didn’t want me to take over the farm someday or thought I couldn’t do it, but because a mix of me being a girl, and also me having been gone for the last 4 years at college. People can change a lot when they are away, he wanted to make sure that I wasn’t just coming back because I thought it would be easy and something that I could do until I found a “real job”. So while I was trying to assure him that this was something I truly felt was my passion in life, he came up with a plan. I was going to be an intern for 2 years. I would follow him around, do everything he did and see all sides of the business. Then after 2 years, if it wasn’t working, or either of us thought this wasn’t going to be the best we could split ways no questions asked. Well it’s been 6 years now and neither of us has looked back. So after the 1st full year, I wrote a poem for my dad about all the things that I broke during that year.
In my first year, well it’s been quite the wild ride
I’ve learned a lot, and broken a lot
I’m lucky no one died
It began one Monday
Hitch pin, jack stand, and trailer tire
Next a cell phone, and door handle
Thank goodness there was no fire
Mom says, “Don’t worry just take it in stride”
I’m afraid it’s only the beginning to her I confide
If we only knew then what the farm was in for
I probably would have shown ME the door
Gears, boom saddle, and flange all go bizerk
But dad’s still laughing as I just create more work.
“Just try to take it easy” he repeats to me again
It’s a good thing you break things slower than we fix them
Three cell phones and a Nextel clip later
Out goes the starter on grey
I start to worry
He won’t keep me one more day
But as I get into my port-o-potty
And it rolls away
He thinks just for entertainment
I have to let her stay
Plus I’m much too strong to let go
For heaven’s sake I bent the lever on a PTO
Then there are the belts
And we have never gotten along
Flail and Filbert dump cart
I guess that list isn’t too long
Hair dunked in oil, eye socket to a lever
A head bump to the spray booms
Just to make it all the better
Another injury to the noggin from a Filbert tree
What are the odds of that dang branch coming down on me?!
The spreader’s drive line goes out with a punch.
It’s 8am and I’m ready for lunch!
The disc claims yet another cell to the trees.
A beep beep to dad & mom, help me please!
But Fuses, Cam locks, and Nozzles have become easy fixes
Although hopefully I don’t have 3 legged kids from all the chemical mixes
As the intern in year two
I hope my mistakes go down a few.
For one trying to outrun a hail storm
In a pruning tower, proves bad form
It hasn’t been all mishaps and mistakes this year
Thanks to golf and Marion Ag we also had a lot of beer!
Obviously it’s hard to soar like an eagle
And farming hasn’t exactly proved me very regal
So dad I hope you keep flying with this turkey
And don’t forget we make dang good goose jerky!
It’s been such a great year I truly can’t complain
I’m just hoping the smile on dad’s face means he feels the same
NuttyGrass 
Hey Brenda-Good stuff! you seem to have captured all those events that we usually try to forget during our day to day farming! We manage to get over all the bumps and bruises, and recall with good humour those crazy “oops” moments that we later call “learning” experiences. Your dad must know you are serious about farming, any other occupation would call it abuse!!!!
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