
This is my dad. I can't figure out why he always makes this face when I point a camera in his direction, but I think I must have a hundred photos of this face. Nobody will ever know what he really looks like.

My dad is finally down to the last two days of harvest, assuming it doesn't snow tonight, nothing breaks down tomorrow, and everyone shows up to drive their assigned tractor. As is usually the case in harvest, only one of these things is even slightly guaranteed. In other words, they could still be going Monday. Or next Thursday. Or the second week in November.
You just never know on the farm.
My sister and I recently discovered that there are certain people in the world who really hate our family tendency to fly by the seats of our pants. Because, if you invite us on a trip next month, we will probably respond, "Um, I have no idea what will be going on that week. Why don't I call you a couple of days before?" If we are, in fact, going to take a trip, or make a plan, or go anywhere, or do anything, we will probably decide to do it five minutes ahead of time. I am sure every member of my family could infinitely frustrate any person on the planet who likes schedules.
But that's the thing about farming. You learn to be flexible. And maybe a little spontaneous. You just learn that you can't control the weather or the machines or all of the people that make everything run. So, you roll with it.
So, even though my mom is sick of everyone leaving and coming home at 0-dark-thirty, and also sick of making lunches and late-night dinners, and having to deal with piles and piles of mud-caked harvest laundry, she is rolling with it. That's true if it all ends tomorrow or halfway through November.

Hopefully, though, it will be tomorrow!
But, really, in spite of all of the work, it's kindof a fun time of year. Harvest is sort of a party. All of the workers, plus a dozen extra temps, are basically in the same place at once. It's the only time of year this happens. Dad's happy because he's dirty. Everyone's (usually) happy that the things we all stressed out about since they were planted in the Spring are finally out of the ground and off to places where they will hopefully bring in money. Harvest is good.
And the beets are big. And that is exactly what we are after.

Some of the beets are really, really big!!
Dad is testing out some new machinery this year that he and his partner have been sortof inventing. I'm definitely not going to explain all of the nuts and bolts of this behemoth, but it is amazing. It involves telescopic boom and all sorts of other things I only marginally understand, and it is very cool.


Also, it's really, really big. And it holds a whole lot o' beets.

I may as well be talking astrophysics here, I'm sure, but I think he'll be happy that I'm posting these, anyway.
My dad's dad retired years ago. I think it's been about two decades. He's eighty-five, I think, and he still comes out every single day to check on things.

Someone's got to supervise this operation, I suppose...
Speaking of supervising, I spent some time helping Matthew test out his new bow today.

Seriously, I think I'm going to have to get one of my own. You should definitely see how I can rock a 12-pound compound bow. Meant for a seven-year-old. Whatever.

Oh, and hey! Check out my hat! (Ravelry!) I knitted it! Pirate skulls, for Halloween! This is as costumey as I'm gonna get this year.
We may or may not have been shooting at the new beet cart. In any case, neither one of us aim that great, so the beet cart is safe, for now. Meanwhile, other unauthorized activities were taking place inside the truck...

Dad makes sure the driving lessons begin early. Nine months is about the average. That way, they can totally maneuver a tractor by age twelve.

I totally remember how fun it was to drive a tractor at age twelve. And yet, I'm not entirely sure I approve.
So, yeah, good day at the farm. Happy harvest.
And that lab coat? Yeah, still not finished with that...