Let’s get the basics out of the way. Yes, I am a girl. Yes, I am a farmer. No, I don’t want to ride your tractor. Or any other farm equipment euphemisms for penis I’ve heard over the years, even just growing up here. No, I don’t have a southern or midwestern accent. And to conclude I am highly educated, so no I am not a country bumpkin lacking teeth with a family that looks like they belong in “Wrong Turn.”
As you just read I grew up on my family’s farm, and loved every second. My great grandfather decided to leave his overly religious family in the city, there was an unfortunate incident with the priest and let’s just say the church and his family believed the priest. The moment his family sided with the priest he swore to himself he would be the opposite of his parents. He would make his own way, in the country, shunning the god he grew up with that allowed all the terrible, traumatizing things that happened in his life.
My great grandfather was homeless wandering the streets after managing to put a few states between him and his family. He was hungry, dirty, and just wanted to be able to sleep one night in a bed. This is when a very sweet couple happened upon him and decided to take him in. The deal was he could stay there as long as he needed, but he needed to help the couple tend to their horses on their 30 acre plot. They had lost their son when he was serving our country in the military and needed a young man around to help out. They became my grandfather’s surrogate parents, and he became a son-like figure to help fill the void left by the one they lost too soon. Since their only child passed and they had no family my great grandfather inherited their land and developed the farm I still live on today, 75 years later.
From when I was little I remember having the talk with my grandfather and father that I like to call “The Lion King Lecture.” You know the scene in “The Lion King’’ where Mufasa takes Simba on Pride Rock and explains everything the light touches is theirs besides the elephant graveyard. It was like that except it was a talk about how all the land and crops would be mine one day, as we gazed at the golden and beautifully green rows of vegetation as far as the eye could see. The point of bringing this up is I have known I would take over the farm since I was little and honestly have never wanted different.
After my great grandfather successfully produced a couple hauls of crops like corn, carrots, apples, and the many other fruits, grains, and vegetables we grow here he became famous for two things. The first was having the best produce in a 250 mile radius and for having an open door policy. He explained to anyone in town who praised him that he was taken in and as long as they helped on the farm they were welcome. This started the tradition of our house being available to homeless and runaways. Even to this day, the reason you ended up as either does not matter.
When I say our produce is considered the best I mean people drive over 6 hours just to get it. Some people claim it’s more addictive than drugs. Many of our yelp reviews say “I never knew carrots could be so complex, I’ll never get my veggies elsewhere.” Or “Grew up eating this produce and will die eating it. I’ve tried many other places and nowhere even close to compares.” Gwenyth Paltrow swears our produce is the best organic food she has ever tried, and many other famous politicians, actors, Nobel Prize winners, artists, musicians have not only given us unprompted social media posts but some fly “their people” to the farm just to get their hands on it. Needless to say, this kind of popularity has afforded my family a beautiful life of travel on private jets, owning many properties, and being able to buy anything our hearts desire. Who knew crops could make you extremely wealthy? But you know what is recession proof? Excellent produce.
My grandfather started the town’s beloved tradition that truly sealed my family as everyone’s favorite family in the state, the Fall Funtastic Fair. Hey, I didn’t name but it’s one of those things that is so ingrained in the area it cannot be changed. Once a year, after the final haul of all crops from summer, people come to eat, drink, be merry and ride cheap carnival rides. Sun kissed girls in white sundresses, playing cornhole while drinking a cocktail and laughing with friends. Teenagers who think they aren’t being obvious about being stoned while they shove apple turnovers and other sweets with my produce baked in them into their mouths. Children laugh with glee as they ride the fruit and veggie theme attractions. Parents looking on while enjoying a locally brewed beer and catching up with their friends. The town loves this festival and so does my family, but for much different reasons.
You see whenever I got “The Lion King Lecture,” there was another very important point brought up and emphasized anytime the mention of me taking over was even thought of. That I would need to keep up my great grandfather’s end of the deal in order for our crops to always not only be successful but delectable as well. A deal that only became available the second his family sided with that priest and my great grandfather stopped believing there was anything good out there protecting him.
While my great grandfather, grandfather, father, and now me are all famous for being philanthropic people who take in runaways and the homeless, and then set them up with successful lives outside of town. What everyone at the fair right now did not know is all those runaways, from then to now, are below their feet. You see, my great grandfather agreed to trading a human life for success and riches annually. My grandfather had the excellent idea of making the fall fair on that date. While the entire town is distracted partaking in drinks, fried foods, and rides we ask the person we took in that year for help with surprise fireworks. By the time they realize there are no fireworks they are already well on their way to joining all the others before them. Under the many rows of crops, helping ensure all the people at the fall fest love every single bite of my produce they taste.
Anyway, I have to go. It’s time to set off the firework display. I always have fun picking where the runaways go and what is going on in their lives when the town asks how they are, it’s almost like a game. Tomorrow I have to recruit the next farm hand who will inevitably help with the surprise firework display. I’ve started giving “The Lion King Lecture’’ to my 3 year old daughter, and I already feel proud just thinking of her taking over the family business when it’s her turn. Those big green eyes of hers, I know getting people to help her with the surprise firework display will be no issue.