It’s raining! And thundering and lightning! We have an inch and a tenth, so far. Much needed, but if it would have just waited one week, we would have been done with harvest. No complaints, though, as rain is still needed here. We finished soybean harvest on Friday. We have 250 acres of corn to go. These acres are the farthest from the home place, which usually means I’m on the road constantly running people from field to machinery, but not this week. I’m headed to the shed for repairs — on me.

I’ve battled all year with my knees. I have a torn ACL, a ruptured calf muscle, two torn meniscus and enough falls to last a lifetime. But we’re not fixing my knees. We’re fixing my back. I have degenerated discs between L2 and L5. It’s time to take out what’s left and put in some new cushioning and screw it back together.

The surgery will not keep me down, but does require four to six months of healing. I should be good to go by greenhouse season. So, nurse Mark is on call, and there’s corn to harvest. Isn’t this the way things happen on the farm? When it rains, it pours. But we need rain, so we’ll do what farmers always do so well, improvise and compromise.

My thought for the week is in regards to saying, “I love you.” Today, a friend is burying her husband. He wasn’t sick. He had no disease. He got out of bed, fell to the floor and was gone. He was 61 years old. Luckily, the last words to his wife were, “I love you.” Her last words to him were, “I love you, too.”

We never know what day we will be called home. What will your last words be to those who work by your side, look to you for guidance, lay their head beside yours at night? Tomorrow is not promised. Don’t pass the chance to tell those you love how you feel about them, how much they mean to you, how much you value what they do for and with you. Until next week, have a great day. I love you.

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