Well, we’re done. The corn is in the bin, Farmer Mark has taken his combine and gone home, and the phones are quiet.
Phew. What a whirlwind.
For six days, my life was dominated by corn. Yes, corn….the plant that has singlehandedly taken over huge tracts of land around the world and intoxicated farmers with its ability to produce those amazing seed heads, each one boldly holding hundreds of yellow kernels.
Now please don’t start lecturing me on the evils of corn. I’m an environmentalist, remember? And a mother. I understand the pitfalls of mono-cropping, the stress corn puts on our soil and water, and the damage high fructose corn syrup does to one’s body.
But during the past week, I most admittedly fell under corn’s spell. I became enamored with its reproductive genius. I basked in its yellow beauty. I reveled in its smells, its abundance, its ability to dominate every waking moment of my life. I was as giddy as a teenager in love. Giddy!!
And now?? Now that the harvest is finished, and the corn has been neatly tucked away into the corn bin, or sent off by the truckload to intoxicate someone else??
Now I’m feeling the aftermath of my drunken harvest fest. My house is in a shambles. My yard is a mess. We have yet to return the tractors and wagons we borrowed. My head is foggy. I can barely drag myself out of bed. I’m grumpy with my kids and my husband. I have lost my drive, my energy, my passion.
I’m hungover, d*mn it.
And instead of being a responsible adult and admitting my weaknesses, I’m going to blame it all on the corn. That’s right, it’s corn’s fault. She did this to me.
So let this be a lesson to y’all, especially you beginning farmers out there. Corn has an uncanny ability to bewitch, to dominate, to intoxicate. Plant with care.