Hold that thought

by Katie on June 15, 2012

We’re on our last day of wheat harvest around here, and I have to brag on my farmer. He pretty much knocked this one out of the park. It is a much deserved and much celebrated win, especially after last year’s big disappointment.

[If I didn’t talk about it, basically, we thought we had a bumper crop, and were all set to brag to the high heavens. Then the high heavens decided to send us some humility, because once the combines got going in our “bumper crop,” we found out it had suffered an early freeze, and the huge, plentiful heads of our plants were merely empty shells. Disappointing was an understatement.]

I can take a little personal credit for our crop success. I mean, I didn’t do anything dumb like run out of seed or anything while I was planting 90% of it (on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, no less). And those five times I had to help our guys out and make a water change I’m sure made all the difference. Really though, Brandon was pretty intense on management, watched everything like a hawk, and planned fertilizer timings and rates just right (or so it seems). And thankfully, we have finally been blessed with a good crew of employees who executed the plan well.

So anyway, we knew from Brandon’s brief ride-alongs with our harvesters, intensely watching their yield monitors, that things were looking good.

Last night, we got one of them to round up all their grain truck weight tickets so far and report them to us. So we both sat at Brandon’s desk, in front of an open spreadsheet, while the harvester read off weights to us. I’m sure Brandon had already done all the math in his head for each field as we went along, but he was nice and entered it all on the spreadsheet so my poor mediocre math skill brain would have a clue where we stood.

I have to take a break here and let you know that it’s been a running joke for the past four years about me receiving a pair of diamond earrings. Basically, every time something goes wrong, one of us shakes our head and says something like, “Well, guess it’ll be a couple more years on those earrings.”

On the other hand, when things go right, or Brandon reports good hay market prices, or we’re celebrating a high grain contract, one of shouts out something to the effect of, “Diamond earrings, Baby!”

Now, of course this is all a big joke. I am certain that if and when any jackpot does arrive, we will be fully outfitted with new hunting binoculars before there’s ever any serious talk about me sporting more than my single diamond on my person. Which is why it makes for a fun joke.

Back to last night.

At some point in the listing of the truck weights, our harvester was sure he had misplaced a whole weight ticket; as in, there was one entire truck load of grain that was unaccounted for. While all this was going on over the phone, Brandon just looked back at me with a little spark in his eye, reached over and touched my ear, and whispered, “They’re gonna be big!”

This was also followed by many, many fist pumps over the next 47 seconds.

…Until the harvester reported back that he was mistaken. All truck weights were present.

Without missing a beat upon the news, Brandon cupped over the phone, and told me, “Yeah, those earrings are going to be a little smaller.”

And there you have it. How crop production is reported around here:  by the size of a pair of diamond earrings that only exist in theory.

Regardless of the size of my fantasy earrings, things are still awfully exciting around here.

Blessings abound.



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