I look at these pictures and they pluck a string of intense familiarity in me. It makes me sad, in some ways, that I won’t be raising my family on a farm. I got just a taste of it as a kid and turned out to be more of a city gal, so I guess if I had stuck around (and my own family hadn’t majorly downsized our farming efforts due to a variety of reasons, many of them economic) I would have been the one to insist that Triple T Farms have a website and get on Facebook. Maybe I would have had to slop hogs too. But there is something so honest about farming. Something so real about it. It’s not all flash and pretense, branding and focus groups. It’s just dirt under your fingernails and long, hot days, and the smell of diesel following you everywhere you go. A challenge to make the land do your bidding but to be its steward and protector too. It’s intense. It’s humble.
I miss it.