Planting Season Reminds Me of My Grandpas and a Lesson One of Them Taught Me

As I was driving back to Sigourney for Easter yesterday morning, I noticed most of the fields lie empty.  No green yet and for the most part they appear undisturbed by plows, discs, and the like.  That will certainly be changing soon as the weather warms.

It also made me think of my late grandpas, both lifelong farmers.  They always seemed to have a little extra spring in their step and bigger smile on their face this time of year.  Farming was their calling and they loved every second of it.

I was also reminded of a day many years ago when I was investigating the equipment in Grandpa Kuntz's machine shed.  I climbed into one of the cabbed tractors and started to do play-by-play of an imaginary game on the CB radio.  Grandpa had a unit in the house and heard me.  He never yelled.  I don't know that I ever heard him yell.  However, he made it clear that's not what a CB was designed for.  That was the day I learned that no matter the "microphone," there's always somebody on the other end listening.  Thank you Grandpa.  I love you, and miss you.

Roberto (he always called me that)