Harvest Time on the Prairies

The leaves are falling and the weather has turned from summer heat to crisp autumn chill.  On the Prairies that means the combines are in the fields racing against time and the weather to get the crop into the bin.  Both my grandfathers emigrated from Eastern Europe in the early part of the last century and spent their lives toiling in the unforgiving climate of the Saskatchewan Prairies.  I won’t lie, I would love to ask them why not California but I am guessing it has something to do with differences in cultivating grapes versus cereal grain, blah, blah, blah.

They etched out a life here, clearing land to grow most of what they needed right on the farm.  I don’t envy the excruciating hard work they endured not to mention being at the mercy of Saskatchewan’s unpredictable weather.  I am immensely proud and grateful to them.

As a child, I spent time during the harvest out at the farm as my Dad always went home to help his family.  My memories are patchy but vivid - the bowl of water on the porch so the men could wash their hands when they came in to eat, the steaming pot of boiled potatoes dripping with butter and seasoned with fresh dill, roasted chicken with gravy, freshly made buns, still warm from the oven, fresh raspberries with cream and sugar for dessert and most of all the jovial atmosphere as the men sat around the table eating the hearty fare.  They were united in their goal; to bring in the crop.

I have lived in the city all my life, save for a couple years on an acreage, but yet, farming is in my blood.  It’s where I come from.

Sometimes I wonder how I can get back to that simpler time.

Original post to Canada Moms Blog.  Kami can also be found at Kami's Khlopchyk.