Passing on what he knows to another generation

When we first got married and moved to the country in the fall of 1967, Cliff knew very little about farming.  He'd grown up in Kansas City.  But he had farming fever BAD!  Daddy sold us an old Minneapolis Moline tractor with very little braking power, dirt-cheap.  Our first 20 acres was hilly, and a nephew of ours had a close call, riding with Cliff and Phil; in fact, Cliff pushed him off the tractor to save him, just in case things turned bad.  The kid was about five, and he still hasn't forgotten that push.  

Later Cliff got a Ford 8N with a brush hog, so he could mow the pasture.  

He started working at the Country Butcher Shop and sometimes picked the boss's brain for farming information, since he knew quite a bit about farming.  A co-worker, Gene Wyzard, may he rest in peace, was also a big help.  There was no Internet then, so you couldn't just look up "how to plant pasture grass" or "how to raise alfalfa for hay".  You had to find out from someone who knew about it.  The information Cliff got from those guys really helped him out,; but there were other things he learned from simply doing it wrong, trying something else, then trying yet another way, over and over until something finally worked.  

There wasn't a barn on our property, and I was milking a cow we bought from my parents.  Suzie had to be milked, rain or shine, twice a day.  I needed to get her inside for milking, but had no place to put her.  We also would need a place to store hay.  We were broke, but somehow came up with the money to buy the lumber and steel panels to build an open-face pole barn.  Gene Wyzard was on hand to show Cliff how to measure and build a simple building.  Every little victory was a big deal for us, and we couldn't have done it without friends helping.  Cliff's brother Phil caught the move-to-the-country bug after helping Cliff put up fence, mow weeds, and do other odd jobs that go better with two people.  He later bought a place in the river bottom only a couple of miles from where we live now, and his house floated away in a flood... but that's another story.

Since our oldest grandson bought this place, he's been good medicine for Cliff.  Finally he has somebody who wants and needs to learn some of the lessons he learned the hard way.  The grandson living next door has worked out very well, especially for Cliff, because truly, Arick and he are best friends.  When Arick is home, Cliff has a ready-made helper who does the heavy lifting and is about the best help he ever had.  And he gets to pour information into him, so he won't have to learn the hard way like Cliff did.  

Arick has been preparing the ground for a wildlife food plot, and today he planted the mixture of seeds with Cliff standing by giving advice, if needed.  I think it's two weeks too early for planting, but what do I know.  Arick bought an old seeder yesterday, since the one we used for years pretty much fell apart.  They had to work on it to get it to go on the tractor, but it didn't take long.

Cliff has trouble getting up and down, so that's another way Arick comes in handy.

Once they got it all set up, Farmer Arick went out to sow the seeds.  Cliff gave him some last-minute tips and sent him off.

We stood and watched for awhile.  I went on to the the house with Gabe, and Cliff came after awhile to eat dinner.  I looked out the window and saw Arick still out there, but on a different tractor, the Farmall H... his own tractor, the one he helped Cliff restore when he was eleven.  He was driving over the seeds with a harrow to give them a little covering.  I could hear the tractor running in the distance; Cliff, being hard of hearing, could not.  

At one point I told Cliff I didn't think the tractor was running.  I went to the back porch to check and saw the grandson had gotten off the tractor and was looking at the innards of the thing.  Before long, he came to the house and said it just stopped running, like it would if it were out of gas.  Cliff finished eating and we all went to see what the problem was.  I stayed at a distance awhile.

Within ten minutes they solved the problem; Cliff said dirt probably got in the carburetor.

On the way back to the house, Cliff pointed out what he thinks is Johnson grass.  Not good!

And then, rest for the weary.  This is a scene you'll see almost daily around here:  Grandfather and grandson, just being together.  Sometimes I walk out there and nobody is talking; Cliff will be listening to his old-time country songs on Sirius  radio and Arick will be surfing on his phone, or maybe playing a game.  Other times they are deep in conversation.  The other night I was in the swing in our front yard and heard just bits and pieces of conversation.  I couldn't make out any words, just voices floating up to me on the breeze from the shop, almost musical, punctuated by Arick's laughter every so often.  And I thought how blessed Cliff is to have someone to help him do the things he loves, someone to talk to about "guy things".  Some evenings when Arick gets home from work they'll sit out there like that for two or three hours.  

Best friends.  Isn't God good?