Be 20 years tomorrow my dad sold out. After 35 years raising cattle and hogs, working day and night, and finally an off farm job, he finally realized it just wasn't going to work. Sold machinery, land, and in the end, pretty well walked away with the shirt on his back.
Went back home with him yesterday to pick up a parts tractor, and detoured around by the old place. Dad always took pride in having having everything neat and squared away. Present owner has let everything go beyond belief. I could see it hit dad hard, but it did me too, as if to say nothing he did there was ever worthwhile.
Also realized there isn't an old friend or neighbor left alive within about 5 miles of there. Places all abandoned, or bulldozed flat in the pursuit of the almighty dollar.
Left the area thoroughly disgusted with the way things are today, and wishing I could bring it back somehow.
Drank like no tomorrow for about 6-7 years after we got out, then came to the realization that it was maybe for the best. Dad would have worked himself to death, and maybe life would have taken a different path for me, not meeting my wife, and having the 2 great boys, and the good life we have together.
Dad and I looked around for about an hour, and I grabbed the RH armrest I broke off our old 756 IH. Still hanging on the wall in the machine shed where I left it. Started thinking about it, and the place brings back almost as many bad memories as good.
Not really sure why I'm posting this, but I know some here will understand.
Went back home with him yesterday to pick up a parts tractor, and detoured around by the old place. Dad always took pride in having having everything neat and squared away. Present owner has let everything go beyond belief. I could see it hit dad hard, but it did me too, as if to say nothing he did there was ever worthwhile.
Also realized there isn't an old friend or neighbor left alive within about 5 miles of there. Places all abandoned, or bulldozed flat in the pursuit of the almighty dollar.
Left the area thoroughly disgusted with the way things are today, and wishing I could bring it back somehow.
Drank like no tomorrow for about 6-7 years after we got out, then came to the realization that it was maybe for the best. Dad would have worked himself to death, and maybe life would have taken a different path for me, not meeting my wife, and having the 2 great boys, and the good life we have together.
Dad and I looked around for about an hour, and I grabbed the RH armrest I broke off our old 756 IH. Still hanging on the wall in the machine shed where I left it. Started thinking about it, and the place brings back almost as many bad memories as good.
Not really sure why I'm posting this, but I know some here will understand.