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A day on the family farm

August 15, 2006|EMILY TOADVINE

I've never seen so many people hungry for a hayride and a ribeye sandwich on a muggy July day as the ones who gravitated to our family farm, 12 miles outside of Frankfort on the Franklin and Shelby county line, for Farm-City Day.

People swarmed to the event hosted by my brother, Jim Morse, and my dad, Donald Morse. People I told about it had never heard of this event, but it has been happening in Frankfort for almost 50 years. It's a day for farmers to swap stories and when the suits and ties come out and see the innovations of the folks who make their living by the sweat of their brow.

It's held at a time in the summer when the farmer has a little breathing spell - if there is such a thing - after the spring calving, setting tobacco and hauling in the hay. Judging by the turnout, perhaps boosted by it being an election year and a rain forcing farmers to stay out of the fields, a lot of people had an idle day.

About 400 people registered and piled on the 20 hay wagons for the tour around the farm. The 180-acre farm has Angus/Simmental cattle and the first stop was at a new corral. The corral makes vaccinations easier, which increases the cattle's market value.

The next stop was by the blueberries that Jim planted 20 years ago and the blackberries. Not only are blueberries healthy, but with a going rate of $20 to $25 a gallon, they are worth the picking. Next, was a lesson about native grasses and their uses for hay and grazing.

Around the bend, my dad stood with my mom as backup and told about the farm his mother, a thrifty woman, bought in 1917. Next up, was a talk about how much wildlife like the native grasses. With lunch on our mind, we tarried at the last stop by the garden where the sweet corn was beginning to tassel to hear about drip irrigation systems.

My brother says he agreed to host the event because it's a way to educate and build fellowship. I saw that in action as I rode on a wagon with my sister and nephew and one of our fellow passengers invited us to a fish fry in his community that weekend. He explained that while fishing in Florida his father had a vision to have an annual fish fry and invite the community to promote oneness.

That was kind of what was going on here as the farm and city communities united. By lunchtime, the crowd swelled as the politicians, bankers and general latecomers arrived. About 600 ribeyes and 300 hamburgers were served. Over and over, I saw old faces from my childhood. Farmers talked ponds and cattle. I took home a cedar chip from the portable sawmill demonstration as my souvenir. But I took home much more in the way of pride in farming and in our own family's operation.

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