If Farming Were Easy

If farming were easy, everyone would be a farmer. 

 Farming is in no way easy. It takes a special person to be a farmer. That person must be patient, strong willed, and a little bit crazy. 

 Growing up, I witnessed Dad go through just about every situation you could think of. There were good times and bad times. But through it all, Dad never lost sight of what was important. He always thanked God no matter what circumstance we were in at the time. 

Planting season is ALWAYS a trying time. It starts with preparing the fields for new growth. Spreading manure ( such a sweet smell) is first  then the harrow- like a big rototiller- tills up the ground and gets the nutrients from the manure into the soil. This is usually all done by The Boys. Then the planting starts. Always done by Dad. Usually done in a one to two week span, depending on the weather. 

When I was a kid, the tractor that was used to plant was an old John Deere that had a roof but no door or windows. It was quite possibly the loudest tractor there ever was. Day after day, Dad would climb aboard the monster and plant the day away. Wearing a t-shirt, Dickies work pants, work boots, a baseball style hat with some kind of Farm brand on the front and ear protection, Dad spent hours in the field breathing in dust. Every couple hours, it would be time for him to fill up the 6 row planter. 

Like clock work, Mom would head out with the farm truck full of corn seed to where ever Dad was planting that day and drop off bags of seed as well as a drink and maybe a snack or lunch if it was that time. She would pull into the field just about the time Dad was coming to the end of the row. He would put the obnoxiously loud tractor in park and gingerly jump down off the steps. Hours on a the tractor in a rocky field does no favors to the back. Dust flying off his pants, dirt darkening his face, he would pick up the seed bags one by one and carry them on his shoulder and fill up the bins. He never said much. Mom didn't take it personally. She knew it was usually because he was tired or his back hurt. He would take the water she brought him, say "thank you" and "love you" and be on his way. Mom would drive back to the farm, have one of the boys fill the truck with seed for the next trip and continue on with the next task. Making lunch, cleaning the house, tending the calves, running here, there and everywhere she was needed. Remember, Dad wasn't the only one in the field. The Boys were hard at work as well. And it wouldn't be "busy season" without breakdowns at least once a day! Bring tools here, bring chains to pull someone out of a mud hole there, turn around and it would be time for Dad to fill up with seed again! Sometimes I used to wonder who had the more exhausting job. Don't forget- I was still a little girl at this point. So she had me to tend to as well. I was a pretty good tag-along though. 

Dad would usually be in the field from 7:30 am-5:30/6:00 pm. Mom would have supper ready for him after he had a shower. We would all wait to eat together. Dinner conversations usually consisted of how  field work went that day, how the cows milked and how much ground Dad got planted. After the meal was done, Dad would usually go to bed almost immediately. But its only 7:00! Yes, but the cows need to be milked at 2:00 am and then starts another day of dusty fields. 

This is usually how things went on a good week. Good weather, minimal breakdowns and no problems. 

Not always the case. Sometimes it would rain every other day and Dad could't be on the fields. Or, a chain on the planter would keep breaking after every 3rd pass. Up and down, on and off the tractor he would go to fix it but it would just keep breaking. Time was ticking away, more rain was on its way and little to no corn was in the ground. Nothing would make him more angry than the thought of not getting the work done because of constant breakdowns. Especially when weather was coming in. 

Remember when I said that on Sundays we limited work to milking and feeding cows? Well, that rule gets broken every once in a while. Like when there is rain in the forecast and if he doesn't get the seed in the ground now, it'll be too late. I remember a few Sundays going to church without Dad because he was in the field. He hated it but it didn't happen very often. Sometimes you have to do what you have to do. 

Then the day would come. The last field. The last kernel of corn would be put into the ground. Planting would be over. Praise Jesus. 

Moods were automatically improved and we would usually celebrate by getting to go out for supper. Something that was few and far between when we were young. 

Planting season is one of the most difficult times on the farm. Stress sometimes get the best of us, tempers fly, and words are said that aren't meant. But we know that its only for a short time and then we can watch the reward over the next few months. 

Today, its still stressful and exhausting, but its a bit easier.  Dad has since upgraded his tractor to a closed cab with air conditioner and a swivel seat that is easier on his back. He still works like a dog until he is so exhausted that he practically collapses when he gets home at night. That part hasn't changed. I don't think it ever will. It's who he is. God made this farmer to work until the job is done. And I will forever be grateful for the hardworking man he is. 

If farming were easy, everyone would be a farmer. 

Well, guess what. It isn't and they aren't. God hand picked the farmers to work this land. We're just lucky enough to be some of them. 

 

How It All Started

Dad's family moved to our little farm town of Albion in central Maine in May of 1973. 

David and Jean McKeen ( Grampa and Grammie) moved up from southern Maine with 5 kids , one on the way and Grampa's parents. Leaving behind but not forgetting the memories, friends and the precious baby (Douglas) they had lost 11 years prior.

  The family had purchased the little farm on the hill that had a barn and a farmhouse as well as the old farmhouse at the bottom of the hill for Great Gramp and Grammie to live in. 

May 11th 1973 , the family made the trip to move into their new forever home as well as welcome the newest member of the family! That's right. Grammie gave birth to a baby girl on the same day they moved in. Quite the eventful day! 

The family of 8 began their life here in Albion and became a well respected farming family in the area. Grampa David was a trustworthy,faithful,godly, hardworking man. He instilled those traits into his children; Dave, Davene, Dan, Darrell, Dennis(Dad) and Dawn. 

Year after year Grampa worked alongside his wife and kids to make ends meet. They raised up a nice herd of dairy cattle, harvested crops off the acres of land they had. They were stewards of the land. 

They did it as a family. 

7 years after moving to Albion, Grampa David lost his battle with cancer at the age of 42 in September of 1980. Leaving the farm in the hands of his wife and children. Not only did Grammie have 6 kids to raise on her own, she had a dairy farm to run.She also went back to school and graduated high school with her son Darrell. All while managing the farm and family. Talk about the weight of the world on your shoulders. Thankfully, the boys were old enough to handle most of the work.  

 Grammie jumped in and became the manager of it all. The four boys took over and farmed on just like their father had taught them.

The year following their fathers death, Grammie and the kids hosted Maine Farm Days at the farm. Something Grampa David always wanted to do but never got the chance to. This was a chance for the locals as well as the surrounding farming communities to witness how much hard work, blood, sweat and tears the McKeen family had put in before and after the loss of Grampa David. 

 As time went on, the boys grew up and started families of their own and would eventually move on with their lives. The girls did the same after going to school. 

In the end,years later it came down to Dennis. Dad. He would be the one who stayed and carried on his fathers legacy. But he wouldn't do it alone.

On November 7th 1987 he married the preachers daughter from Skowhegan. Becky Turner. And yes, if you're wondering if farmers get honeymoons, they do! Although, Dad cut theirs short because...well, hunting season! Don't worry, Mom forgave him. 

On August 16th,1988 they had their first born son, Ryan James. 

A year later, they decided to move to Maryland for a change of scenery- try something new. Everyone needs to find their own way. Dad wanted to know what it was like off the farm on the hill in Albion Maine. So, they packed up and headed for Maryland. Leaving the farm in the hands of his older brothers, Dave and Dan. 

 Dad worked for a farmer for 5 months when he got the call from home. It was Grammie. She was calling to tell him that his oldest brother Dave was leaving the farm and they needed his help. She asked if he would come home. Dad knew this was what God wanted him to do so, they did. 

Back on the farm just a few months, July 24th 1990, Kyle Louis was born. What a great way to start a farming family. Two boys who could work alongside their Dad. 

Less than two years later on January 31st 1992, Mom was 100% sure she was having a baby girl. 

"Another Boy!" exclaimed the doctor. Let's just say Mom was...less than impressed. But only for a moment.  Little did she know that Tyler David would grow up to be a sweet little Momma's boy who gave the best hugs and had the biggest heart. "That's it. I'm done." she said to Dad. She was finished having kids. She sold all of her baby things because that was IT. 

Guess what? God had different plans. Dad also did a bit of convincing ;) 

Four years later on March 11th 1996 mom FINALLY got her baby girl. Lynsey Rachel. 

"It's a girl....with RED HAIR!" Wait, WHAT???  Yep! Sure enough, Great Grampa McKeen's red hair finally made it through the blood line and landed on ME. And with that, our family was complete. 

God gave Dad 3 boys to help him on the farm. And after 3 boys, God gave me to Mom because He knew she needed it! :) Actually, she tells people "God gave me 3 boys because He knew I wouldn't have been able to handle more than one girl" 

I try not to take offense to that. ;) 

And so, that's the short version of how it all started. I can't wait to tell you how it continues!

The Beginning

Hi friends.Welcome to the Farm!
 Let me start off by introducing myself. I'm Lynsey. Better known as the Farmers Daughter.
 I grew up on a Dairy Farm with my 3 brothers in a small town in Maine. My Dads family has owned this farm for over 40 years and still going strong. Out of his family, just my Dad and my Grandmother have ties to the farm. My Grandfather passed away when my Dad was only 14 and left everything to his wife and 6 children. That is a story for another day. One that I will tell, but not right now.
 My mother home schooled all 4 of us kids. Not an easy task but she made it seem easy. Still to this day I do not know how she stayed sane. She is a saint for sure.
My parents made the decision to home school us when my oldest brother was in 2nd grade. Keeping us home was the best decision they ever made. We witnessed so many amazing things on the Farm. We learned way more than if we were stuck in a classroom. The farm was our classroom in many ways.
When the boys were old enough ( 8 / 9 years old), they started seriously working on the farm alongside Dad. Milking at 2:00 a.m, chores (feeding the cows, cleaning out the barns...) field work, milking at 2:00 p.m, more field work and then doing it all over again the next day. School would be done in between chores and lunchtime usually.
When we were young, it wasn't just Dad and the boys. With a couple hundred head of dairy cattle, there is no way that would have been possible with just Dad and a couple of boys under the age of 10. We had a couple of hired hands at the time that helped run things.
Even when we weren't old enough to "work" on the farm, you can bet we were right there watching, riding and "helping" in anyway we could. When school wasn't happening, we were right there in the middle of it all.
Usually while the boys were working with Dad, Mom and I would have the house to ourselves to get my school done and make the boys goodies to enjoy when they got home. Or we would take a day usually once a week if not every 2 weeks to travel a few towns over (40 minute drive) to visit my grandparents ( mom's parents) for a few hours. Most of the time I would have to bring my school with me if it wasn't done already. One of the pros to homeschooling! It can be done anywhere! Even in the car during football practice when the boys were in high school!
We wouldn't stay past lunch time because Mom had to get back to feed calves or milk cows. Oh yes! She wasn't just a stay at home, teach the kids, clean the house, feed the family,balance the check book farm wife. She also works alongside Dad. If I wasn't with her in the calf barn or the milk parlor, I would usually be found with Dad either in the tractor or the dump truck ( especially in the summer) while the grass crop was getting harvested.The best naps I had as a kid were on a hot July day on the bench seat of a GMC dump truck with my pillow on Dads lap. The smell of fresh cut grass and truck fumes bring me much comfort.
At the end of each day, we would all go home ( less than a mile from the farm) . Mom would make us dinner, we would watch some TV and then off to bed we went, wake up and do it all over again!
Thinking back on the days of my childhood brings me so much joy. I loved those days.

Day in and day out the work never stopped. There was no 9-5 it was sun up to sun down.
Except on Sunday. On Sunday's we went to church. The cows still had to eat and be milked but that was what it was limited to. My Dad taught us at a young age that it was important to recognize Sunday as a day of rest because that's what God intended it to be.
God has blessed our family and farm richly over the years. Now, that doesn't mean that we were or are rich, but He has always given us what we need. 
Many years I watched Dad pray and pray and pray during planting season and harvest season.
There have been wet springs and dry springs. Some too wet to get a tractor on the field so it would hinder the planting of corn or the first crop of grass. Some too dry so the corn wouldn't grow or the grass would burn up too quick. Through it all Dad prayed and prayed and prayed. God always answered. Not as quickly as Dad might have wanted but He answered. On years that it was too dry and the corn struggled to grow, we would have a bumper crop and would end up with more than we needed. On the wet years , the process may have taken longer, but we would have another bumper crop. Like I said before, God has blessed us richly and we always give Him the credit. Something else that Dad taught us at a young age.

Growing up on the Farm was fun, exciting, exhausting, frustrating and rewarding.
I wouldn't have wanted to grow up anywhere else.