Warning complete harvest post forthcoming:

“If you’re not living on the edge you’re taking up too much room”

Somehow this quote keeps entering my life encouraging me to get out of my same ol same and shake the norm up a little.

Idk what norm looks like to you- but this time of year- I’ve done the same routine 1000s of times. Load up my “farming without a cab” starter kit (sunscreen, rain coat, sunglasses, earplugs, battery pack, etc) and jump on my faithful 7330 John Deere and hit the field. From there the dust and the silage and the good times roll until the end of the day and I drag home a filthy, exhausted, completely happy wreck. Repeat the next day.

But something happened this week that will forever change the tint in my rose colored glasses.

I tasted life on the other side of the tracks.

I’ve lost count how many years/ how many conversations have happened because of the differing opinions on equipment. But we’ve burned up a fair amount of energy on the subject, particularly with our friends at Shen Valley Custom. Invariably the conversation happens and it usually follows the same outline. It’s all in fun- the banter between John Deere and Claas (my dad wrote a few poems on this subject) or John Deere and Fendt tractors or John Deere and Case combines… but at the end of the day we go home completely satisfied with our continued #deereseason. In short, we run Deere equipment and are living happily ever after. More of a lengthy discussion would be that most of our cart tractors are open station tractors (without cabs) meaning that we eat dust and bake in the sunshine and live happily ever after- rocking that farmer’s tan.

This week we had a fairly lengthy road haul from the field to the farm, and we had 3 Shen Valley outfits on the job. The one cart operator had to leave, so my dad looked at me “Ken, go run that JCB”

Wait, what?!

One of the other guys gave me a quick run down of the tractor and with a “you’re going to end up writing a blog about this” he left me to my own devices.

What happened next is the shocking part: I had a blast. We flew down the road over 40 mph.

The sun shone in the cab and I turned up the AC. The sun set and I turned up the heat. Music kept me company. The gravel road dirt hung in the air and hit my windshield and I cleaned it off with Windex.

“Cabs are certainly unnecessary” I told myself as I reached into the fridge to retrieve my cold drink.

“Still not necessary” I told myself as I followed the cutter around the field and the silage rained down on the top of the hood, and I stayed perfectly clean.

But who am I kidding? I smiled so much that my face hurt.

As I tore along in my little yellow JCB sunbeam, I was just reminded again to make my words sweet.

Because sometimes when you’re super opinionated and vocal about it- those words return to haunt you.

But it’s ok- as long as I’m traveling down the road 40+ mph- maybe they won’t catch up with me.

If this is life on the edge- I think it agrees with me 🤷🏻‍♀️😂😂

Grinny Kenny

Well, I’m back in town. Detroit Snappenbarker Mendoza who doesn’t show up for a year, then is writing 2 weeks in a row. But here I am, story in toe. (No, I did not misspell that.)

Last time I was ranting about being chewed out. You won’t believe what got chewed up this round. Yep- me! A much lesser dog wouldn’t have survived-but here I am. Regardless- hide your eyes because it was a terrible, horrible fight. Here’s the facts:

The Harvest Monster comes to call this time of year. I can always sense it’s arrival. My human family walks a little faster. They are gone a lot more, but when they are around, they talk a little louder and laugh a little more. This Harvest Monster is not something to be feared, only respected. And managed within an inch of its life. That’s the part where I shine.

“Get ready” I told my assistant Rolo “it’s show time this week.”

And it was. I rode down the road on the tractor with KH carefully planning my day.

Things went well, the first day of Paradise Lane Chopping Season.

The other dogs rode with the cart operators some, but not me. I was in charge of air traffic control in at the trench, and I manned the control tower like someone’s life depended on it.

Day 2 went equally as smoothly. Finally I decided I just had to get to the field, the trench was filling up and there was decisions to be made with what to do with the rest of the corn (PTL for this problem!) so I ran out to check the chopping progress.

What happened next I will never tell. But the Farmer was riding across the open field on his trusty four wheeler when I met him with a feeble salute. He stopped and I climbed on his fourwheeler before he knew what happened. “Medic” I mumbled “I need a medic”

There’s a wide range of guesses as to what happened to me. In short- My foot looked like it got in a losing fight with a meat grinder. Basically I’ll give you all of them and you can go with whichever logic you like best :

The Farmers guess: that I was in the standing corn and forgot that the chopper ate 10 rows at a time instead of 8. And somehow those vicious knives on the head managed to mangle 2 of my toes. (KH was running the cutter and she does not like this option, and can argue it away in about 5 seconds) I am tough as nails- maybe I was just too much for that ol beast to munch on.

Mr Good’s version: that I was going for a pedicure and got trimmed a little closely. (Ummm Hello- does he really think I’m that high maintenance?)

The Farmer’s Daughters ideas: maybe a trap or a sharp corn stalk or something caught my poor toes as I rushed past and yanked the pad off… (what kind of a dunce would blunder into a trap? And are freshly chopped corn stubble really a lethal weapon?)

But like I said- I will never tell.

In the end EMT Em wrapped my wounded paw up and held me close as KH drove the getaway vehicle to Ashby Vet Clinic where a very nice man gave me the opportunity to sleep really soundly while they stitched me up.

I’ve got a beautiful purple bandage that’s driving my crazy- but hey I’ll take the Purple Heart I definitely earned.

So anyhow- message me if you need an address to send get well soon cards, steak, balloons, steak, roses or steak. I’m going to need some cheering up while I wait this one out.

Farm Manager, currently on sick leave,

Detroit Snappenbarker Mendoza