The official first day of spring is next week, but it is really starting to feel like spring around here. My plan is to mow the lawn here. We’ve had a few frosty mornings lately, so we’ll probably wait just a bit before getting the dahlia tubers into the ground and planting our lettuce and peas. We’re already thinking of how we want things to look in our small garden areas this summer.

Over at the farm, the cattle have been taken to the butcher. The pastures are starting to green up and the mud is receding. Most of the garden areas have been layered in with straw and manure and mulch, in different ratios depending on what will be planted. The seedlings are ready to move from under the grow lamps out to the greenhouse.

The kids have a reasonable supply of hay left in the barn as a head start for next winter’s feeding, and we’ll see what the summer brings in terms of whether or not they will be able to get a cutting from the pasture before time to buy heifers in the fall. The new chicks for the laying flock are still in the brooder, but are growing well and will be moving to the pullet pen before too long, depending on the weather. The new bee hives have been stained and varnished and the hive stands are set up in the apiary. It’ll be about a month before the new bees arrive, but we need to have everything ready when they arrive.

Some of the berries are mulched in with straw. The raspberries have been pruned, but are waiting for more straw to mulch them in for the growing season. Although there is a good supply of hay in the barn, the farm ran out of straw. They don’t grow grain, so straw has to be hauled from a neighboring farm where the farmer has a custom bailing operation. Much of the hay and straw around here is put up in round bales, but we know a farmer who puts up thousands of square bales of straw and hay each year. Yesterday, I took the pickup over and got a few bales of straw for the berry patch and other garden areas at the farm. It was over 50 degrees and we loaded in our shirtsleeves and then stood around and talked for a while. The farmer’s boys were playing in the yard, enjoying a break from their project of extending their chicken run while their father tossed bales of straw to me in the pickup and we stood around talking about the weather, the price of eggs, the amount of hay and straw yet to be sold, and a variety of other topics. He had already loaded 350 bales of hay for a local feed store, and his one ton truck was piled high with bales ready to be delivered to San Juan Island on the morning ferry today. Tossing 10 bales to me in the pickup was light duty for him and I was a bit surprised at how easily he threw the bales much farther than I could have.

Back at the farm, I unloaded and stacked the bales. The chickens were out in the yard and very curious about my operation, scratching the loose straw around the pickup and hopping up onto the bales in search of seeds or bugs or anything else they might find. Unlike the hay, there are very few seeds in the straw, but the smell was enticing to the chickens. Our granddaughters were home from school and eating a snack at the picnic table as they watched grandpa work. It was a small job and soon finished. The girls reported to me on their plans for building a leprechaun trap for St. Patrick's day morning. I was happy to be outside doing a bit of work, even if it was light duty instead of sitting at my computer sending e-mails or harvesting numbers from last year’s records for the taxes. Susan does our taxes and she had the information she needed to get through the first draft yesterday. We don’t anticipate any surprises this year, which is good news.

I know that there are many good ways to grow up in this world. Children thrive in all kinds of environments. But I feel especially lucky that our grandchildren are growing up on the farm. It is good for them to have space to run and play. They have a first-hand sense of where their food comes from. They have experience with life and death and new life. They have a few chores when they get off the school bus in the afternoon and the days are getting long enough for them to be outside for a few hours between school and dinner time.

I am continually amazed that their father, whom we raised in a house in town away from the chores of raising animals, except pet cats, and away from an orchard or large garden, has acquired the skills of managing a small farming operation on the side of his busy life and long days as a professional. He’s a busy guy and his days are long and his nights are short. Somehow he has grown up to discover the joy of hard work and big projects. He is far more accomplished at home repair than I was at his age. With three females in the family with long hair, he has had to learn how to snake the drain lines without calling a plumber. He knows how to keep the cattle water trough filled in the cold of winter and the garden irrigated in the summer. He keeps the vehicles and the tractor running, making a lot of the repairs himself. He can clean up and head to a city council meeting in suit and tie and come home, slip on muck boots and coveralls and be out in the yard working after dinner.

And somehow, I’ve come to the place in life where I can do the farm chores I enjoy and avoid the ones I don’t. I volunteer to help with childcare on chicken butchering day. I haul hay, but don’t do much weeding in the garden. I putter in the shop, but get a full share of apples and pears and plums and berries from the orchard. And I get to see my grandchildren nearly every day as they grow and change without the responsibility for their day to day care.

I love spring on the farm, but then again, I love all of the seasons of our life. Being the old guy with the pickup is a role that seems to fit.