The Midwest. Flyover states to some. The soul of America to us.
Chevrolet got it right when they coined it the heartbeat of America.
Wide open spaces where there are more cattle than people. Where farmers and ranchers are raising not only children but food and fiber too. The connection these people have to the land is strong. Their livelihood are these acres - they know every rocky patch, divot and wet spot due to the hours spent in those fields and they know the nutrient content of the soil too. They feed their families off this land. Hard, hard work that sometimes pays off and other years with the same amount of labor and love, don’t even break even.
And it’s a community- where you know your neighbors well, even though the closest one is often miles away. And you all come together when needed to fix a problem.
It’s a beautiful life. Envy worthy in fact. But it’s a lot of hard work and tears too.
Living the farm life often reminds me of the great Paul Harvey and this gets me every time...(Condensed for space - I will put the whole thing in stories)
"And on the 8th day, God looked down on his planned paradise and said, "I need a caretaker." So God made a farmer.
God said, "I need somebody willing to get up before dawn, milk cows, work all day in the fields, milk cows again, eat supper and then go to town and stay past midnight at a meeting of the school board." So God made a farmer.
Somebody who'd bale a family together with the soft strong bonds of sharing, who would laugh and then sigh, and then reply, with smiling eyes, when his son says he wants to spend his life 'doing what dad does.'" So God made a farmer.
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