I don’t farm. I don’t want to know how to farm.
I like cushy desk jobs.
And I am ever so thankful that folks do the farming and animal raising so that I can stroll to the grocery store and get what I want.
Or even have it delivered.
I am under No Illusion about how hard it is.
In my terrible shape I’d probably grab my chest after a few hours of work.
My idea of roughing it is a 3 star hotel instead of 4 or 5 :)
God bless the farmers.
And room service :)
I'm from room service. The desk said you were - hungry.
I always had the feeling my grandpas best day was when he could quit calling himself a farmer and moved into town.
“God bless the farmers.”
That’s a beautiful post.