Last week marked a quasi-sad day in my life…my dad had his farm sale. The entire north end of town was filled with wagons, trailers, trucks, tractors, implements, combines, and miscellaneous farm parts. It was a culmination of more than 40 years in the farming business, all sold in a matter of six hours.
Sitting on the lot were some of the things that made me proud to say I was a farmer’s daughter. He technically still IS a farmer — but you know what I mean. It was almost like a few of my childhood memories were sold when the auctioneer pounded his gavel and off the tractor went to a new owner.
In 40 years, I’m amazed at how agriculture has changed and how it continues to change. I guess I shouldn’t be sad because the equipment is going to other farm families, or to their children in hopes of carrying on the ag tradition, but it marked the end of an era for our family.
The sheds have been cleaned out, leaving room for another business to grow. And maybe it’s good to have a “cleaning day” here and there but for me, the sheer size of the sale was a bit overwhelming. Like doing spring and winter cleaning and tossing out your whole closet and starting new again. (Now that would be fun.)
I told dad he had to keep at least one tractor or my son would be forever disappointed. He did.
Until we walk again …