Lynn's Comments: One morning, I awoke to a strange noise. I looked out the window to see the wheat field parting like the red sea. In a cloud of dust, smoke, and flying chaff, Freddy Parkinson (Don's brother-in-law and neighbour) was driving towards the house on an old snowmobile. He roared into the yard and then calmly announced that he'd come for coffee.
Lynn's Comments: Beth and Don had a hired man who rarely spoke--but when he did, it was about crops and weather...and nothing else!
Lynn's Comments: Driving the combine was like piloting a ferry. These machines are enormous. They grind their way around the fields, picking up swath left to dry and crushing the seed out of the grain heads. The seed is then augured up into a box where it's stored, and when the box is full, it's augured again into a truck running parallel. Both machines work in tandem until the work is done. When the weather is threatening, crews work from dusk until dawn. Fields look like harbours as lights from the combines float across them like ships in the night.