I was thinking today about this blog and the different things I could/should share. One thing I always find interesting about a person is their story. Whether you believe it or not, I think EVERYONE has a story. Everyone has a purpose and a reason for being where they are. Sometimes, I wonder what the purpose or the reason is for me and I find myself getting a little too “deep” into my thoughts. So…I thought, maybe I should give a little history about how Zeorian Harvesting came about. As I mentioned in my “About” page, I was 12 when Grandma proposed the idea of going on harvest with them. Being 12, I had no idea what life adventure I was about to embark on! But, I knew what harvest was. I can remember visiting Grandma and Grandpa as a very little girl during the summer wheat harvest and at corn harvest. I remember standing in the Massey combine – yes standing – next to Grandpa and watching the corn “dance” into the header. If you have never watched a corn-stalk “dance” into the header, you really should make an effort to experience this. To this day, I love riding in the combine and watch the corn dance. Another memory of mine is crawling on the ledge behind the seat of the combine and taking a nap. I can’t climb on the ledge anymore but the movement of the combine makes me very sleepy – only in the “buddy” seat. When I’m the driver, I never get sleepy. From the first time I sat in the seat of a combine, I have sat right on the edge. It’s a habit to this day to sit right on the edge. I just don’t feel like I can see the header and the wheat correctly unless I’m on the edge. And, I drive it like this all day long.

Grandma spoiled me when I was with them. She loved to shop and she loved to go out to eat. One of her favorite places to eat on the road was Pizza Hut. She loved the thin crust pizza! After pizza, we’d sometimes go to the local soda fountain or drive inn and get a “black cow” (root beer float). Shopping was a must – clothes shopping that is. She taught me how to be a thrifty shopper. We never looked at the clothes unless they were in the sales rack. And, I could usually get whatever I wanted but she’d always say, “now this will come off your paycheck at the end of the summer”. Oh my goodness, if I could just go back and experience one of those days with Grandma all over again! How much fun would that be?

One day while shopping with her in Alva, OK for groceries, she mentioned to the young man who was helping us out to the pickup that we were in town cutting wheat. “Oh, you’re a wheatie”, he says. Grandma was so upset! She was still carrying on about how she was NOT a wheatie for days after that! Apparently being called a wheatie was not a good thing.

So many fond memories of the times I got to spend with Grandma and Grandpa on the harvest run. You know I have them to blame for this addiction and the love for this lifestyle! I’m sure they never thought it would go any further than just a fleeting moment in my life. I remember Grandma once telling me, “whatever you do, DON’T marry a harvester”. I do know, though, that once we decided to make the move and do this as a business both Grandpa and Grandma were pretty proud that we were out there carrying it on.

They both talked about their harvest friends very fondly. Always! I completely understand, now, why those friends were talked about in such a fond way. These people understand the feelings we have when we see a wheat field for the first time each summer. They understand the experiences you go through. Unlike the friends you have at home, home.

I think I better stop for tonight. This will get too long and if I tell all my memories tonight, what will I have to type about tomorrow?

Jim’s still whacking away by himself in the field. He found a mud hole this afternoon. I’ve been thoroughly enjoying my time here at the trailer house. Especially since my time with Taylor and Callie is getting more and more limited. They will be going home on Sunday. I guarantee that will NOT be a good day for me!