Driving about during storm chases gives one a fair amount of time to ponder. Yesterday (03 June 2010), I noticed a lot of farm equipment sitting in people's yards, much of it showing signs of rust and other neglect. I couldn't help but think of my Uncle Irving - he was a farmer who held some strong feelings of pride when it came to his farm. When a farm implement's duties for the season were complete, he didn't leave it higgledy-piggledy somewhere outside to rust until it was needed next year. It was cleaned up and prepared for its off-season (repainting, covering unfinished metal areas with a rust-resistant coating, etc.) in a barn, out of sight and protected from the elements. He always got a special break from the implements dealers because when he brought something back for a trade-in, it was always in great condition! Moreover, his farmstead was never cluttered with rusting equipment.
In this society, which treats everything as disposable, I have to say that I was raised to be more respectful of the tools I use. And to not clutter up my yard with them.
And he didn't tolerate the unchecked growth of weeds anywhere on his property. When the weeds got bad, it was our job (my cousin and I) to go take care of that. No, sir! No weeds. He took pride in the appearance of the farmstead, and my Aunt Fran always maintained flowers and other adornments, as well. Driving into the farmstead made one feel the pride of ownership and the responsibility of stewardship for the property (and the land).
Dashing about the plains makes me realize how special my aunt and uncle were. I still miss them ...
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