A wintery wind whips across the frozen fodder, howling through the shed and battering the peeling double-paned picture window in the living room that you’ll get around to replacing eventually (funny how that day never seems to arrive).
There’s only a few weeks left of this year — and good riddance. Between drought, storms and rock-bottom commodity prices, it’s been an experience better left in the dust. And if that wasn’t bad enough, the combine burst into flames halfway through harvest. You could use a double shot of Christmas Day magic right about now, with crushed candy cane sprinkled on top.
And so, you get it.
The aroma of cooling Christmas cookies greets you quicker than the kids who burst through the bedroom door, snap on the light and yank you into wakefulness. Buoyed by their joy, you stumble down the stairs, letting optimism rule the morning.
At the bottom step, your jaw clatters to the package-packed floor. The kids let out a whoop. Your spouse drops the cookie platter with a crash (five-second rule?). The family dog zooms around the Christmas tree, barking furiously without the faintest clue why everyone is suddenly so excited.
Old St. Nick really came through this year.
You peer out that antiquated window, and there, topped by a dusting of freshly fallen snow, is a sparkling new combine tied with a giant red bow. It’s a Christmas miracle. If only, right?
Maybe next year
The odds of receiving a shiny new combine for Christmas may be slim to none, unless the decal reads “Ertl.” You’ve got a better shot at a shiny new screwdriver or a mug purchased slyly at the vacation gift shop.
Not that any of those are bad; on the contrary, screwdrivers get lost, and there’s never enough mugs. The sentimental value of the gifts transcends the monetary value.
Unless your name is Qin Yinglin (Google him), a Christmas combine might not be in your cards. But maybe that’s not so bad. Combines are cool, but at the end of the day, they’re just iron and steel. Someday, they’ll settle into a field somewhere to quietly rust or find their way into a junkyard and be stripped for parts. Maybe they’ll be sold a few times, refurbished, and see a long, productive life. But eventually, they’ll only be worth their weight in iron.
What’s really important are those excited children busting in (way too early), the lovingly made Christmas cookies (five-second rule applies) and the person who’s carrying them (cherished forever). This holiday season, you might not find the keys to a new combine in your stocking, but there’s something even better within reach: time.
It’s a priceless commodity, so use it wisely. Turn off the machine. Toss around the pig skin. Roll under your grandfather’s old Chevy. Bake cookies. Take a Sunday afternoon stroll. Prioritize your loved ones.
This Christmas season, in the words of 80-year-old Illinois farmer Norbert Brauer, who’s been at this for longer than most, take a moment to “enjoy the good life farming can bring to you.”