Every summer growing up I would visit my grandparents for a week. We would split the week between the two sides of the family. My mom’s parents lived out on the farm, and my dad’s parents lived in town. While I enjoyed visiting both sides, I enjoyed staying out on the farm the most. 

Grammy and Grandad would get up early and turn on the radio every morning and tune it to KFMA news on the AM band and listen to the farm reports except on Sundays.  We would eat lunch promptly at noon and dinner at five. Decades of farm life and the schedule it required were still ingrained into every aspect and decision they made each day long after farming was not a daily part of their lives. 

When we were not keeping busy on the farm Granddad and I would go fishing. We would hop into his old Chevy pickup truck. While it did not have hundreds of thousands of miles on it the truck was full of dust and was worked as it was intended to be used on the farm. If you live on a farm or have ever visited one you know the smell. Road dust, corn, and bean dust, layered upon layers for decades stored inside and out in that truck. He always took good care of his machines but the country road dust could never be cleaned no matter how you tried.  Despite all the dust it still looked like it did when he bought it brand new so many years ago.