The farmer takes a wife

A city kid, Jack dreamed of being a farmer someday. At the age of 21, against the odds, his dream was about to come true. With significant help from his parents and a rare opportunity, he would soon begin a whole new phase of life. He had prayed for change and at just the right time, those prayers were answered. The only missing piece was someone to share his new life with. He figured the Lord might send him some sweet country girl to fill that void. Instead, he met me.

I was working in an office in Hamilton, taking business courses and thinking I had my life pretty much mapped out. Then along came Jack. He told me about the farm he had bought, including a 125-year-old house. Visions of a stately country manor filled my head. “Not exactly,” he said. “The bricks kind of fell off years ago and were replaced with aluminum siding. The windows are new, though.”

So – more rustic than stately. One and a half stories of character – complete with crooked floors, a stairway that slanted in two directions and a family of squirrels living between the walls. Irresistibly charming. A year after we met I quit my job, married Jack and moved two hours away from everything familiar. As I unpacked wedding gifts, snow gusted across our front field. What had I signed up for?

It wasn’t exactly “Green Acres,” but not too far off. We didn’t have to climb a pole to answer the phone, but we did have a party line. Meaning we shared the phoneline with three other neighbours – two of whom tied it up every afternoon. The other one called her husband in from the barn for breakfast, lunch and supper. Two long rings, one short – three times each day.

Winter gave way to spring. I watched sunrises from our bedroom window and sunsets from the dining room. One rainy day a very large pig sauntered down the sideroad. Soon our neighbour appeared with his truck and a helper. Best live entertainment ever. Suddenly I understood the meaning of “hog wild.” Who knew a pig could be so agile and quick!

A row of rubber boots

When our children came along I discovered that family life in the country is a special blessing. I watched my kids and my husband thrive. We worked side by side and shared the load according to our skill sets. The farm provided a good living and a variety of work. And somewhere along the line I became fully countrified – fiercely proud of my rubber boots and rural roots.

Eventually we downsized, and now we have just enough work to keep us out of trouble. I help Jack when needed, but spend more time at my desk than with physical labour these days.

Paperwork has increased exponentially through the years. Ontario’s agri-food sector contributes nearly $49 billion to the GDP and supports roughly 750,000 jobs. It’s a privilege to be part of such a vital industry.

The best part of farming for me is still those sunrises and sunsets. Changing seasons and passing years convince me more and more – Jack wasn’t the only one called to be a farmer. Against the odds? Maybe. Within the will of God? For sure.