On the farm, weather can be a real challenge, especially snow and cold. Our livestock need to be kept warm, but also need fresh air, as respiratory infections such as pneumonia can occur in stale air environments.  Then, when big snowfalls occur, not only do the driveways need to be plowed, but also many of the yards for the livestock’s recreation need to be cleared. One winter in particular stands out for me as the worst in my lifetime: the winter of 1978-79 packed a huge snowfall and followed with severe cold.
     That winter started early. We already had ten inches of snow on the ground before the blizzard on January 12th.  I was playing high school basketball in a Friday night away game in Burlington.  The weather forecast had predicted only 2-4”, so little thought was given to travel conditions. At least that much had already fallen, however, as we were loading on the bus. The driving wind brought more snow minute by minute.  The swirling snow and wind sure made for poor visibility and slick roads! Our team bus driver really stepped up to the challenge, but even with his best efforts we had a hard time making the trip home. It took almost four hours to make the normally two-hour ride. After our team arrived at Davenport West, I then had an even harder time getting back to our home farm. The back roads I needed to travel were far worse than the main roads the bus had taken. I finally made it to our driveway, only to get stuck in the snow, which had now accumulated to over a foot!
     The next morning I couldn’t even see the car! It was completely covered in snow. In total, that blizzard dumped about 18 inches. The whole family spent the next few days moving snow and getting animal pens cleared. The most challenging was digging out the car in the driveway. My mom packed a hot lunch and thermos of coffee and sent me to flag down the snow plow on our road. The plow driver was appreciative of the warm food and was willing to return the favor. Once he’d finished with the road, he came and cleared our driveway. This way the milk truck could come and empty our now-full tank of milk and deliver it to the processing plant.
     The roads were a long tunnel, it was only one car width wide and the snow wall sides were taller than the car. My dad remarked that if we got another big blizzard, the tunnels would fill, and the whole county could be snowed in. Finally the spring came, seemingly much later than usual, and all that snow melted creating a big muddy mess.
The winter of ’78-79 really taught me how well our community runs when people look out for each other. I feel very fortunate to live in an area where, for decades, county employees have worked tirelessly to keep roads clear in all kinds of weather.
Having such a great county road crew gives everyone the opportunity to come to the Cinnamon Ridge Country Cupboard store in rural Donahue for our farm fresh eggs, meat, cheese, and baked goods. 

     As I was growing up on the farm, Christmas time was both a lot of hard work and a lot of joy. If the weather was cold and snowy, it meant for extra work to keep the animals warm. One evening during Christmas season, I was carrying hot water to the chicken house. While hurrying to get out of the cutting wind, my rubber boots slipped on the ice. Time briefly slowed down as my rubber boots slid out from under me across the snow-dusted ice. Desperately trying to regain control, my free arm swung around like a windmill, and the other tried to stabilize by gripping the handle of sloshing bucket even more tightly. As gravity proved its inexorable power, I soon realized my efforts to stay upright were going horribly awry: my youthful rear end landed squarely in the bucket!
     Soaking wet, I desperately wanted to change into dry clothes, but I didn’t have many chores left and knew it would be faster to just finish.  After I regained my wits, I filled up a new bucket of hot water and more gingerly delivered it to the chickens. By the time I got to the chicken house, I was moving like that alien robot I had seen in a summer drive-in movie.
Finally finished, I was so grateful for the warmth of the house, but I felt dismayed to learn my pants were completely frozen solid and I could not get them off! One of my older brothers informed me, with a twinkle in his eye, that I would have to wait with them on while I thawed. Teeth chattering, I was not excited by this plan. Eventually, I finagled myself where I was lying down on the mudroom floor. Only then was I able to wiggle out of my frozen trousers, a predicament my family later found hilarious.
     Every Christmas Eve, we celebrated with a family gathering. After all the evening chores were done, we would sit down to an amazingly bountiful traditional meal. My mom and aunts never disappointed! But when I was really young, I hardly ate anything from that glorious spread—because after the meal we would open presents.
When I was four years old, a surprise knock on the door led to a visit from Santa! However, Santa gave me a very hard time. I distinctly remember him telling me the reindeer were eating corn out of our corn crib, and he didn’t think there would be enough for the dairy cows. I was so worried that I almost didn’t open my presents. For days I looked and looked for Rudolph’s red nose among our animals at the feed bunk.
     Although it’s been a long time since Santa’s knock interrupted my family’s holiday meal, I still realize today how important family is during this special time of year. From my family to yours, thank you for your patronage this past year of family farms, including our family farm, Cinnamon Ridge. Our whole family works hard through winter’s chill and summer’s heat to provide wholesome and delicious products at all the places Cinnamon Ridge products can be found. We hope our efforts bless your family. May you all have a blessed Christmas and a prosperous New Year.

​     With the chill in the air finally is telling us it really is fall, ‘tis the harvest season. Before our crops are safely gathered in, I will spend many more solitary hours in the cab of our combine. Yes, being a farmer does mean living at a distance from “next door” neighbors; popping out to the store for us does take over an hour. But being a farmer means close relationships too. In addition to the faithful Cinnamon Ridge canine companions like Stella and Callie, we have developed strong connections with as seed salesmen, nutritionists, insurance agents, and veterinarians. In particular, our large animal veterinarian visits our farm several times a month to monitor the health of our dairy herd, check which cows are pregnant, give vaccinations, and, of course, respond to emergency calls. This frequency has built a strong and jovial relationship.
            In the days of party line phones, long before cell phones, our veterinarian and his colleagues would communicate via CB radio. This way a vet wouldn’t have to go all the way back to the clinic just to be sent out on another call. To facilitate their radio, our vet clinic had a tall tower. As all the vets in that clinic were loyal graduates of the Iowa State University College of Veterinary Medicine, they proudly flew an Iowa State flag from their radio tower.
            One summer evening, being young and mischievous, I climbed the tower and exchanged their flag for an Iowa Hawkeye flag, myself being a graduate of the University of Iowa. While I was not caught, as you can imagine, my work did not go unnoticed. Word spread quickly through our rural community that our vets were looking for the culprit. Any non-Cyclone fans were prime suspects. When they were next on our farm, I asked if they would like to hire our “fowl” legal team Duck and Run to help with the investigation. We all had a good laugh, but I knew payback would be coming.
            I waited on edge many years for the retaliation. We were vaccinating calves for brucellosis, an important vaccine that must be administered by the veterinarian, after which the calf receives an ear clip and tattoo to verify they have been properly vaccinated. My daughters were helping us catch and restrain the animals, and our long-time vet saw his chance for revenge. Pretending to sniff the permanent green tattoo ink, he said energetically, “Mmm, smells like mint.” My youngest, Kara, being very curious, blurted out, “Let me smell!!” Before I could stop her, the vet held out the ink. Kara moved her nose in close, and, with a rapid motion only someone so experienced around large animals could muster, the vet smeared the bright green ink all over her face. To add insult to injury, the next day was school picture day! It took a lot of scrubbing to remove the bright green ink, and even still her upper lip still had a slight tint for her picture that year.
            Farm fresh eggs, meats, cheeses and baked goods are available for both Cyclone and Hawkeye fans alike at the Cinnamon Ridge Country Cupboard, located on our farm north of Donahue. Our products are also available at the I-80 Truckstop, North Scott Foods, and the Freight House Farmers Market.