All seem to be taking the plunge given expectations that April will bring at least one more big snowstorm. Kathy, who can’t wait for spring to start the outdoor projects in earnest, wants me to get the vegetable patch started.
“We should be planting potatoes on Good Friday,” Kathy said shortly before the day arrived. “Your mother did that a lot.
It was another time. At the end of the 1950s and 1960s. Banks, gas stations and many stores closed in the afternoon of the day, but the practice gave way to secular demands.
The Farmers’ Almanac reports that the Good Friday planting – like many other traditions – has centuries-old roots in Europe. Potatoes had just been brought across the Atlantic Ocean from South America and many Europeans thought the vegetable could be bad. To protect themselves from evil damage, growers sprinkled holy water on the ground before planting potatoes on Good Friday. Tradition has it that planning the daily grains and vegetables will produce exceptionally well.
Dad took it as the promise of a bumper harvest when April snow fell on the emerged ears of spring wheat and oats. Thunder and lightning were good too, as both fertilized the soil.
When the plantations got bogged down due to a long period of rain and cold, Dad bitterly complained that Soviet Union sputniks and American astronauts wasted the weather by piercing the fragile atmosphere. It seemed as good a reason as any for a boy who thought his father was wise about most things.
Spring is a time of renewal for the men and women of the earth. However, his arrival was feared at a time when the United States sought to save the nation from Confederate revolt during the Civil War. The Northerners left their units without permission to return home to help with spring planting, and the strength of the troops was weakened. Army commanders threatened the farmers and their sons with desertion. The attraction to return home could not be broken, and it was decided that the farmer soldiers could leave if they promised to return after planting was finished.
Many soldiers in the new states of Iowa, Minnesota, and the Dakota Territory did not live to see another planting season.
Thomas Jefferson – himself a farmer from Virginia – said after the Revolutionary War that “those who ram their guns into plows will plow for those who don’t.” plowshares. ”
Isaiah’s words have not yet been fulfilled.
The sons of farmers became Doughboys to fight on European battlefields in World War I and returned there and Southeast Asia for freedom and to avenge Pearl Harbor. Gold Star’s parents dreaded telegraphs and visits from grim-faced authorities. Parents and siblings left with what might have been; pain that subsides over time; and memories.
That we can live to see another planting season should not be taken for granted. In the depths of the 1980s, many farmers were caught off guard when their lenders turned them down for operating loans. Without fertilizer or seeds, they became spectators.
There is nothing worse, a farmer who got caught up in this time, told me, than watching someone else plow and plant the land that was once yours and the land that needed to be. one day be that of your children.
“It’s like a part of you is dying,” he said after losing what was once his.
Whoever works in unison with the earth is lucky to understand that the promise of spring is well kept by work but also by the help given by the creator who brings both rain and sun.
Mychal Wilmes is the retired editor of Agri News. He lives in West Concord, Minnesota, with his wife, Kathy.