And be a Farmer’s Boy

My son, The Boy, has  spring and summer employment. A local sheep farmer asked him if he wanted a job. The Boy said that he’d need to ask us first, but that he was certainly interested.  When we asked him if he wanted the job, his face lit up; so, we told him to say yes and thank you to the farmer.

His first job, when the ground is ready, is to pick stones.  This is a job that both his grandfathers did in their youth: one in Saskatchewan and the other in Lanarkshire. It is also a job that his friends who live on farms do.  Their problem with the news is that The Boy is going to get paid for doing what to them is a family activity.

After picking stones will come two cuts of hay and then straw.  I hope that he will be given a chance to help at the lambing and the shearing as well.

It will be good for him to learn that before the hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of tractor, seeder, mower-conditioner, rake and bailer which he studies up on can get into the fields, someone has to walk through, picking up stones.

If you are wondering about the title of this post, listen to this old song that I learnt at school:

About Tweed and Briar

I am the pastor of a rather conservative rural congregation. My interests alongside of work are hunting, fly fishing, cooking, and life in an agricultural community. By way of family, I have a wife and two children: a daughter and a son. I am of indeterminate age because my wife is a bit younger than I am and my son is ages with some of my friends’ grandchildren. However, to say that I slip smoothly among the generations would imply an agility which I no longer possess. I aspire to the genteel poverty of the country manse.
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1 Response to And be a Farmer’s Boy

  1. His grandparents would be so proud of him!

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