I married a farmer

I truly did.  There is a reason I call him that.  It isn't just because he has the most amazing vegetable gardens.

He was raised on a farm in Denmark.  In 1966 when we went home I snapped some photos.  The top left is down at the fjord across the road from the farm and the sheep grazed where they felt like it.  I shot this through the living-room window.  They didn't like you coming too close as you can tell by the bottom right photo.
The bottom left is the dairy farm Karl worked on for a number of years.  Hard, tough work and hours that we cannot imagine, joys that we cannot imagine and heartbreak too.

Karl follows a farmer from Ontario on Facebook.  His name is Farmer Tim.  He very recently had a terrible fall in the barn yard on the way to barn for milking.  He has a very bad concussion and is now only allowed to watch the comings and goings.  When a farmer has dairy cattle he is up before dawn to milk for the first time that day. He will milk again later in the day.

Believe me, farming never leaves you.

He writes a blog and I am posting the link to it.  The column is called a Farmer's Hands.  I was crying part way through.  The very first photo is of his son Adam.

Maybe now I'm happy we didn't buy that farm way back when.   Then again maybe I still deep down in my heart, wish we had.

https://mayhaven.wordpress.com//?s=A+Farmer%27s+Hands&search=Go