That's farming!

There's no place like home and I don't live in Kansas. I will never be a former future farmer of America. My mom lives in the country and I've always said that, yes it's pretty and peaceful and bucolic and American pastoral and boring. There's nothing to DO there. These last two weeks I helped a friend of mine harvest wheat in west central rural Kansas. I had never farmed before. Now I know what there is to do in the country . . . farm. 24/7 but only for your entire life. It is an all encompassing culture unto its own. Max's farm is going to be fully organic certified by next fall. I was especially grateful for this when the pipe broke and untold gallons of fertilizer gushed firehose like, raining down on me and saturating me in an instant. Good morning and hey, that's farming! There is no electricity on this property. There are no power poles on this or many other of the gridded graded dirt lanes criss crossing this fertile high plain. This place features a barn or 'shed' only. No house. Max has stashed a short bus in the pines and calls that home. I pitched my tent and called that home for a few nights. Apparently chiggers also call that place home. I had never heard of chiggers. Doing some chigger research informed me that they often live in 'chigger islands'. I think my tent enveloped a massive chigger archipelago. Yes I was a regular Cristo draping fabric over an entire ecosystem. I proceeded to move into the barn after three nights. I'm home in Colorado now and I am still suffering newly born chigger bites. You can't see a chigger. They will live on you if you let them. Ya' don't feel the bites, but 12, 24 and even 36 hours later a little red volcano appears. Once you start scratching there is no stopping until the top of the volcano is torn away like St. Helens and blood pours forth like lava. That's farming!