Sticking to your Roots

The fall weather has finally set in here in North Central Texas.  Here in this part of Texas we go from shorts and t-shirts to shorts and long-sleeve t-shirts.  Many of us are still able to wear shorts and I am very thankful for this scenario. I love this time of year for the holidays, family and friendships.  We see people on their $800 smart phones chastising stores for opening on Thanksgiving, and some people tears because stores have put out Christmas items before Halloween.  As the song goes, “It’s the most wonderful time, of the year.”

When I was growing up we lived in a 1940’s farm house in Sadler, Texas.  My parents bought this house and land wanting to get back to the country.  Mom was born in Odessa where my grandfather was a wildcatter in the oil fields.  Dad was born in a log cabin house on a farm in central Arkansas where his parents were share croppers. My parents were extremely excited about the move and change for the entire family. 

While I was a mere 3 years old, I remember the day when my mother came home and told us we were moving to the country.  I also remember the room I grew up in that was joined to my parents’ bedroom at the new place. This house was a very simple set up.  You walked in the front door into a large living area where 3 bedrooms split to a corner with the kitchen going into the last.  There was a washroom/mudroom and 1 bathroom with a tub only. (No shower).   We had natural gas, well water, and a screen door that you got your bottom swatted if you let slam too hard.  (First Hand Knowledge) 

This was NOT a fancy old house be any means.  We had a good size front porch, a gas stove for heat in the winter with a water cooler and 1 window A/C unit in the summer.  When it rained we slept with the windows open because it was normally cooler.  When it was cold we had small space heaters in each room with electric blankets on each bed. 

Now this is a nice little trip down memory lane for me and some of you might be wondering why we are talking about this history of my life.  While I was watching TV tonight, snapchatting on my cell phone and checking email on my laptop, something popped into my head, sticking to my roots. 

This realization of sticking to my roots comes to me at random times.  A simpler life is one that I have always enjoyed more than others.  When I was a young child I was very shy. (Yes, please stop laughing.)  I loved that old farm house that we lived in.  It was not much yet I thought it was the world.  I did not know about cable, I did not know about central heat and air, and I did not know about electronic video games.  (Attari was new at that time.) I was a perfectly happy child that played with his marbles, Tonka trucks, GI Joes and cows.  Just a side now, I still have my original large Tonka truck and marbles.

I remember in the summer time my mom would make homemade ice cream.  The mixer would sit in the kitchen sink or on the front porch.  It would churn and churn while we always maintained the ice levels with rock salt.   After a while we had a rich creamy sweet treat.   Mom ALWAYS let my sister and me lick the paddle from the mixer.  We thought that was the greatest treat.  We spent a lot of time and evenings outside under the shade trees after working cows, building fence or working on the barn.

When it was time to work cows, we did not have a huge number to go through in the beginning.  We have always had a small operation when it comes to the cattle business. The fences were wooden, and we did not have much of a shoot.  We had a head gate that was fixed to two posts in the ground at the end of the short wooden run.  Most of the cattle we had in the beginning were commercial and never seen a halter.  We did have a Susie and Adam.  They were the first registered Polled Herefords we ever owned.  They were not the highest quality, we were very proud of them and enjoyed many years with those two animals as we started to learn and build our herd.  We realized that the tamer, more docile animals were where we wanted to be with our cattle. 

We kept chickens for the fresh eggs and fresh meat.  We ate a lot of beef and chicken fresh from our farm.  We had a garden and mom canned our veggies for the year.  We all were there to help and even my grandmothers would come help when it came time to kill chickens or put up preserves.  These are special times in anyone’s life. 

This is what I consider humble surroundings and I would wager that many people started this way and even still work this way.  These are my roots.  They are the roots of a lot of people in agriculture.  The people that feed our nation.  As a country and world everything is becoming so convenient that we can have anything we want at the push of a button.  We can watch any event and see world events unfold right in the palm of our hands. There are a lot of people who loose their roots in life.  They forget where they came from which are normally humble beginnings. 

When traveling I love to visit farms and operations all over this country.  One thing I have learned is that many of the operations in this country are still humble surroundings.  Hundreds of thousands of head of cattle, hogs, sheep and goats come from small operations with panels for gates, baling wire for ties and work with simple items on their operations.  These are the places that I love to visit.  It reminds me of where I came from and what is still true in this country. 

Most people would be shocked when they go to some operations and see how they operate.  They are almost always worked by the family and maybe one laborer.  Most use barns, lots of equipment that have been around for generations. Some of the best cattle in this country come from mom and pop operations that do not have fancy sale arenas or hydraulic working chutes.  They came from family farms where people have worked for generations to make a go of their operation. 

Now, I am not putting down large operations.  They are vital and a much-needed part of our world in agriculture.  Those operations at one point started small with humble beginnings.  They to have roots in humility and the simple life. 

With the technological age we live in I think it is super important to get back to your roots.  I think it’s important to go back and visit where you came from in life.  This is part of the growth that we all should go through to be a better person.  Now I am not saying you need to ditch your cell phones and tablets to live in a log cabin.  What I am saying though is you need to be very careful with forgetting where you came from in life.  I will always remember where I came from in this world.  There have been times when I myself have lost who I was, and it took going home to remember who I was and get back to my roots. 

The people that tend to be the most successful in life will always be able to tell you where they came from and when they had nothing to their name.  We all need to remember our roots in life.  Good or Bad those roots are what makes you the person you are today.  I know a lot of people who want nothing to do with their past and never go back home.  People who have long term success in the agriculture industry never forget where they come from and never will.

Sticking to your roots will have a much larger affect on your life than you can imagine.  Good or bad, those experiences will drive you to do more, be better and achieve greatness. 

“All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost; the old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not reached by the frost.” ~ J. R. R. Tolkien