Chapter 14 - Knee High (or more) on the Fourth

The measuring stick most often used today is a natural one... is the corn "knee high by the Fourth of July?"

Let me tell you, it is.

The long winter and damp spring made it difficult to get into the fields on schedule, but the sun and recent heat popped those stalks out of the ground so fast I think I maybe did hear them growing at one point.

I've been on the farm all my life, and there was only a couple of times I heard corn grow.

It happens on a hot and humid nights, and if you bathed in a tub of bug repellent ahead of time you might be able to sit quietly in the middle of the corn field and listen until the sound comes in on the breeze.

There are experts who will tell you the whole thing about hearing corn grow is a myth.

Maybe it is, and maybe it isn't.  All I can say is that I heard what I heard.

In a larger sense the Fourth of July measuring stick makes me think of the little notches and pencil lines up either side of the kitchen door frame at home.

Little Scotty and Rich, neither so little anymore, have their share of marks on that frame.

Harmon is making his mark now; each year on his birthday it's one of the first things he wants to do, have Grandpa get a ruler as he lines his feet up against the wall, stand straight and have the line drawn, dated, and his initials added in.

It will be real nice to add that line this year.

There are some other trustworthy sayings that apply on the farm, "don't count your chickens before they hatch," and "don't count the hay until it's in the barn."

The knee-high corn might make us feel good as we head down the long farm driveway into town for the parade down Main Street, but there is plenty of growing season left to go before we can go after it with the combine.

I like bits of country wisdom.

Even if there are only kernels of truth in them, they are part of the farm conversation.  Our friends in the city can join in when they try to make small talk while standing in line at the store or around the doughnuts after church on Sunday.

After the parade and coming back home to milk the herd, we'll drive out to the lake and join folks from miles around to watch the fireworks launched from the island.

The beauty in the sky and reflecting from the water of the lake are an inspiring sight.  It makes me think about the rocket's red glare that Francis Scott Key saw over Fort McHenry and the perils faced by the revolutionary soldiers and the generations of soldiers, sailors, and airmen and women in the couple of centuries since then.

Those brilliant whites, reds, and blues stir the patriotism in our hearts - it makes me proud, glad, and thankful to be an American.

Catch up on the series here.