Five Days as a Farmhand: Thoughts and Stories from a City-Kid on the Dusty Plain

A few weeks ago, I went out to my family farm to help my father seed his crop. Growing up, I spent many of my childhood summers in the dry Prairie heat helping my father and grandfather do the gross/dusty work that they didn't want to do, to the disappointment of my teenage self.

As a young boy, there were obvious benefits of spending time in the middle of nowhere. Shooting at gophers with a pellet gun, cruising around the farm yard on the mini bike, and hitting rounds of golf at the 9-hole Kelliher Municipal Golf Course (the best dirt greens in East-Central Saskatchewan!) were all activities I enjoyed. However, I resented much of my time that was spent there. Being a self proclaimed "City-kid", the farm was symbolic of missed sleepovers, birthday parties and good summer hang-outs with my friends in Regina. In my memory, it represents summer afternoons spent in stuffy granaries sweeping out moldy canola, weeding the garden in 30 degree heat, and fighting the clutches of boredom while sorting bolts in the garage.

This will be the last year that my family will farm the land that my great grandfather, grandfather, and father have sowed. It is the end of an era. My father is retiring from farming after this harvest, and I approached this outing with a different mindset. Seeing as many of the people in my life are not aware of what I actually do when I'm out there, I figured that I could probably churn out a few blogs and give readers a better sense of life on the farm. I brought a camera and snapped some pictures as well! Without further ado, I present....  

Five Days as a Farmhand: Thoughts and Stories from a City-Kid on the Dusty Plain

Part 1 of 5 - "The Arrival and the Farmyard"

I left Regina in my 1996 Geo Prizm on Highway number 10 at around 10:30 AM with an iced coffee to sip on. The sun was out, and the peaks of Qu'Appelle Valley looked as inviting as usual as I rolled through Fort Qu'Appelle. As a child, this was always the most exciting part of the drive to our family farm. Seeing the waves on Mission Lake and always hoping that my dad would pull over at Dairy Queen for a Blizzard would usually be ample excitement for a good portion of the commute. I imagine that the many trips through the valley on the way to the farm helped foster the deep appreciation of the valley that I have today.

Turning onto highway 35 in the Fort, I drank my coffee and listened to albums by Zach Lucky and Andy Shauf (Both are excellent Saskatchewan musicians whose albums are worth purchasing) as I passed by Lipton and Leross and eventually turned off towards the Faye farm right before the Hamlet of Bankend, Saskatchewan. I pulled into the farm yard around noon, unloaded the food my mom had prepared for us to eat throughout the week and changed into my dusty farm clothes. It was time to work.

When I arrived, Grandpa was in the yard tinkering with a piece of machinery. After helping him tighten some bolts on the harrows we went and filled up the big truck with fertilizer. My father was in the field fertilizing, and after driving the big GMC truck into the field and was told that I could start cutting the grass at the farmyard.

"Mulch much?"

The riding lawnmower. The object of my childhood fascination. I remember enviously watching my father closely for many years lap the farmyard, obliterating mole hills and mulching overgrown patches of crabgrass. I counted down the days until I would be able to inherit the task. Even today, this is one of the jobs that I enjoy doing, and I always looked forward to cruising around for a few hours.

My friend, the riding lawnmower (sans: gasoline in tank)

There is A LOT of grass to cut in our yard. It takes about 3-4 hours to cut everything properly. Most of the terrain is just open expanses of grass, however there is a troublesome grove of elms behind the farmhouse planted many years ago that are tricky to maneuver without a branch taking off your hat or getting a twig in the eye (thus, why I wear sunglasses when I mow the backyard). This year in particular was even more tricky, as the winter winds had snapped huge portions of the trees and we haven't had time to clean up the loose branches.

I've done my fair share of deep thinking on many a sunny day while on the mower. As the sun set behind the barren but soon to be lush fields, this evening on the mower was no different. The topic of this evenings deep thoughts were on the future of the farmhouse and yard..


"The Farmyard"

For as long as I can remember, I have always loved the two story red and green crumbling house on a hill. It was always a safe haven from the Prairie storms, and provided the location for the few breaks from work that we would have (sleep, lunch, drinks and supper). It is also a time capsule for the Faye family. Family artifacts such as old clothes, vintage kitchen appliances, Polaroids of graduations/celebrations fill the stale second floor of the house. It is comforting to wander the silent halls of the upstairs every once in a while, where time seems to stand still.

A view of the farmyard from the road.

After marriage, my mother and father lived in the house for about 5 years. My father farmed, while my mother worked at the Credit Union in nearby Foam Lake. It's kind of cool to hear stories from that era and see stuff from their lives still around the house, and wonder what life would be like living out in Rural Saskatchewan year round.

As I mowed the lawn that evening I spent much of my time thinking about how peaceful of a destination the farm would be if the constraints of hard work weren't around. I thought about how I've wanted to record an album there for quite some time, and how easy it would be to write songs or relax in such a tranquil and isolated place. My father has indicated that we are going to hold on to the farmhouse, the shed and some land in the main yard. I daydreamed about potential bonfires in the back, or else either maybe fixing up the house, or building a small cabin one day as a summer escape. Maybe one day...

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My daydreaming was quickly interrupted by the sound of a lawnmower that had run out of gas as I was finishing up the last leg of the backyard (great planning on my part). I refilled and quickly finished up the last remaining patches of grass that were to be cut. The sun was down at this point, so I headed into the house to do the dishes that had piled up and clean the kitchen before my dad got in from the field at around 9 PM. We had a quick supper, and I was off to bed as he watched the late night news in the other room.