Lend me an ear

As I have mentioned before, when James and I drive out to spend a day on the farm it is a win/win for everyone. I get a fun new learning experience, and the farm has free labor for a day. Well, since there are a lot more bovine mouths to feed now, there is a lot more work to be done.

This weekend, our project was to pick, husk, and shell corn. The corn is dried and ground up to be used for feed for the new cows. There are several acres of corn spread out all over the land, mostly used for cover and wind breaks on ridges, than for collecting and eating. The corn is usually eaten by deer, birds, or other critters. Well, now it's for the cows.

James and I drove the four wheelers over to the far ridge and started on a patch of corn that was about 20 rows deep and several hundred feet long. It is important to note that the day we decided to take on this project it was a balmy 19 degrees out, not including the brisk wind chill. We suited up in ski suits and jackets and got to work.

Just a little bit brisk.

I watched as James showed me how to pick, husk and throw the corn to the outer edge of the field. After we had picked enough we would take the feed sacks and gather up all of the corn at the edge of the field.

We started in on the rows and rows of corn. It wasn't nearly as bad as I had expected, since the tall rows of corn blocked some of the wind, but didn't block the little warmth we could gather from the sun. I grabbed an ear, pulled off it's little jacket and hurled it towards the edge of the rows.

Watch out! Flying corn on the cob!

Slowly, I worked my way through the field, ears of corn flying through the air over my head as I went. I would hear them land with a "thump" nearby. We worked at an impressive pace. We would leave some of the smaller ears on the plant, leaving, hopefully, a meal that would help out another cold critter.

Pick, peel, throw. Pick, peel, throw. We did this for about an hour before I stopped to check our progress. I climbed through the rows to the edge of the field and peeked out, laying in the sun were at least 100 ears of bright yellow corn. They stood out against the drab greenish gray of the dead winter grass.

I headed back into the field to toss out a few more ears before collecting them all up. I could only tell where James was if I stopped and listened for the rustle of husks and watched for an ear to fly up out of the field. His Carhartt jacket was remarkable camouflage in the dull brown background of dried stalks.

Can you spot the sexy?

There has always been something about an empty field of corn that creeps me out. Probably any number of horror movies from the early 90s. The stalks rustle and snap all around you and you can't see beyond the three rows right in front of you. I thought of all the different things that could be waiting for me the next row over... but then I didn't really know what kind of creature would be hiding in a cornfield other than a murderer.

I had about enough of that. An hour in the field, without gloves, picking, peeling, throwing in 19 degrees and I was about done. We grabbed up the feed bags and started tossing the ears in. By the time we had finished we had gathered up 250 pounds of corn. We heaved it onto the four-wheeler and headed back to the house to thaw out for a while. These cows better 'preciate. *snap*

Yum, yum, moo.