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.

     When I was growing up in the 1950’s and 60’s, my extended family lived life together, as most settled near or in the Quad Cities. Birthdays were especially important, and with a large family, it was nearly always time to get the family together and celebrate with card games and food. My siblings and I got close with our many cousins, and I have many fun memories of the innumerable birthdays, anniversary parties, or other events.
     As close family, we also helped each other out with farming. Many expensive pieces of machinery were shared with each other. When we baled hay or harvested oats or corn, we could count on the family’s help. Many hands made light work. One of the best things about these gatherings was the delicious, large meals that my mom and my aunts prepared for the gang of hungry, sweaty relatives. Everyone worked hard in the fields and had huge appetites come meal time. Of course, hunger makes the best seasoning, but it seemed that each meal topped the previous one in quantity and deliciousness. Some of them even rivaled Thanksgiving—which is saying a lot!!
     Oftentimes, in addition to the huge noon meal we’d just eaten, Mom would bring the workers a mid-afternoon snack in the fields.  Once, when I was about five or six, the uncles and cousins were baling at our farm, and my mother decided to surprise them with homemade chocolate cake. Mom told me to get my toy wagon, and then I helped her load a heaping pile of plates, silverware, cups and jugs of water into the red wagon bed. I proudly pulled the haul out to the field while Mom carried the beautiful cake loaded with velvety chocolate frosting.
It was a very warm day for baling, and Mom and I arrived at the perfect time. The crew had reached the end of a windrow, their hay rack completely stacked with new bales of fresh, green hay. They were ready to switch to the empty rack, which was sitting at the edge of the field, but saw my mom coming—and knew that a treat was in store! Mom set her beautiful cake on the empty rack and began preparing to dish it onto plates. She’d only cut half the cake in the kitchen, knowing she’d have time as the guys went through the line, to cut the other half. She placed the first piece of cake on a plate and handed it to the uncle first in line, then turned around to my toy wagon to get him a fork. While her back was turned, my Uncle Jack, who was second in line, snatched the un-cut half of the cake as one piece and began to devour it!! Because he’d taken so much, several on the crew didn’t get any cake. Jack got razzed quite a bit that day—and for many years to come. From then on, my mother always cut the whole cake in the kitchen before taking it to the field!
     Baking, family, and hard work are still treasured parts of life on our farm. You can purchase our delicious baked goods (to cut and share with your family or have all to yourself!) at the Cinnamon Ridge Country Cupboard. Of course, don’t miss out on our award-winning cheese, meat, and eggs. Our products are also available at North Scott Foods in Eldridge and the Freight House Farmers Market.    

This article appeared in the February Issue of 50+ Lifestyle Magazine    
    I grew up on a farm in the 1970s where we had beef and dairy cattle, hogs, sheep, horses, dogs, cats, ducks, and chickens. In the chicken house, there was a large flock of hens and a couple of roosters. One of the banty roosters we named Rooster Cogburn, after the character played by John Wayne in the movie True Grit. Like Wayne’s character, the gritty rooster had spunk and was a non-conforming spit fire. Rooster was also the barn yard bully. He would attack anyone and everyone daily. Rooster typically would go from pen to pen, harassing every animal on the farm. It was not unusual to see Rooster riding on the back of a cow, perched on a cow stall, dive bombing a cat, or scratching in a pig feeder to find the best kernel of corn.
     While I was milking the cows, one of my favorite things to do was harass Rooster by squirting him in the face with milk right from the cow. He would look around very indignantly, trying the find the source of the annoyance. Of all the animals on the farm, Rooster probably harassed the ducks the most. There was a mud puddle, about the size of an automobile, in the middle of the barn yard. The ducks would spend most of their days in and out of that mud puddle. Our flock of ducks consisted of 3-5 hens and one drake, whom we called Duke. In the spring we would have 10-20 ducklings in our flock as well. Duke was the man in charge of his ladies. On this particular day, Rooster was being extra obnoxious, especially to the ducklings. Finally, Duke had enough. He grabbed Rooster by the nap of the neck and dragged him in the mud puddle and proceeded to stomp him into the mud until Rooster’s entire body was buried. As if he’d said “uncle,” Rooster was finally let go by Duke. Rooster got out of the water, shook himself off and ran back to the chicken house. From that day forward, the ducks were off limits to Rooster. Finally Rooster had met his match.
     Cinnamon Ridge offers many great items fresh off our farm at our Country Cupboard Store, including farm fresh eggs. Our website is www.tourmyfarm.com

     The article was our January submission to 50+ Lifestyles magazine. I hope you enjoy.
     The house was painted. The trees were trimmed. The lawn was immaculate. My mother’s hard work over the last year to prepare our farm for my sister’s wedding reception had paid off. The result of her saving flower seeds and planting bulbs was simply beautiful. Our farm had never looked this good—even the plant colors were coordinated with each other. On my sister’s wedding day, the flowers were a symphony in bloom. My mother could look around after the guests had left and breathe a deep sigh of satisfaction.
     The day after the wedding, my parents traveled six hours to the groom’s reception in Northwest Iowa, leaving my older brother and me behind to care for the farm in all its radiance for several days.
“The pigs are out!” This wake-up call from my brother the next morning lurched me out of bed in a hurry. “Quickly close the gate to the front road so we can contain them in the farmyard.” I rushed out, half dressed, and shut the gate in the nick of time. OK, at least they were contained: 400 hogs now having the run of the place. But two hours later, we still had had no success in corralling them back into their pen.  Frustrated and caked with sweat and grime, my brother and I stopped to regroup and catch our breath.  Then my brother had a marvelous idea: “Let’s lock them out! They will beg us to get back in because they will be so thirsty!!” Being the younger brother with shorter legs and likely to get some of the most unpleasant tasks, I thought this was a fool-proof plan. Just the thought of the pigs waiting at the gate, desperate to be let back in where they belong, made my tired self gleeful with delight.
     We woke up the next morning to the sound of thunder, followed by the whoosh of heavy rain. It took us a little while to connect the dots; having the pigs beg us to get in now didn’t seem very plausible. Instead of the pigs being thirsty, they were hungry, and they soon discovered the best source of food available was my mother's hard-earned, carefully planted roots and bulbs in the garden. In no time at all, the hogs turned the yard and flower garden upside down as if we had gone in with a plow. To add insult to injury, they created a big wallow right in the center of the flower garden. Of course, we knew we were in big trouble. But what could we do? Well, we set out after milking to put them into their pen. But now, the pigs were enjoying their new-found freedom (and scrumptious eats) and were even more difficult to put away. Finally by nightfall, six hours later, we saw the last of the 400 hogs waddle back into their pen. But, of course, the clouds were still darkening...  Neither one of us got a lot of sleep that night because mom and dad were scheduled to arrive the next day.
     When our parents drove up, immediately the farm became like a crime scene, complete with interrogating and arresting the criminals. Between our father really putting the verbal squeeze on and my mother crying, we felt like we had dug ourselves into a hole we would never see the end of. We spent months doing on farm service projects, including restoring the lawn and flower garden. Still to this day, I look at the carefully planted flowers on my own farm, and I remember the day the pigs got out.
     Thanks to everyone who stops by the Country Cupboard Store on our farm in rural Donahue.  When the flowers planted around the store bloom this spring, perhaps they will remind you of this story and bring a smile to your face. We sell many items off our farm, including pork.

This is a story written by my husband, John. It was submitted to our local 50+ Lifestyle's magazine

     It was a cool, clear, and crisp Sunday morning. Everything was going well at the Cinnamon Ridge Dairy barn. Cows were milked and turned out. Quick Rick, a Sunday employee of Cinnamon Ridge, was on cloud nine after his great performance last night on the local gridiron. With every breath, Rick gave the blow-by-blow of him shooting through the gap and rushing for more than 140 yards. Meanwhile, our four year old cow, Chickadee, grazed with her herdmates, waiting to go back into her stall in the barn.
     Chickadee’s reputation as an escape artist was well known.  Getting herself loose at the Mississippi Valley Fair had been topped only by her letting other cows loose. All the farm gates had to be double latched and doors securely locked, or Chickadee would soon be wandering the farm somewhere, seeing what other kind of trouble she could get herself into. Good thing her sassiness was counterbalanced by her tame and friendly disposition.
After putting down the last shovel full of feed in front of the stalls, Quick Rick looked up and announced, “I can get the cows in myself.”
     I replied, “Ok, if you need me, I’ll be out back by the silos.” 
    As Rick let in the cows, the first few girls came into the barn very calmly and went right to their stalls. But then, just as Quick Rick had his back turned, Chickadee sauntered in, head high and looking for trouble. Rick turned around.  At the exact same moment, Rick and Chickadee spied the open door on the far side of the barn that led into silo area and ultimately into paradise: a large hayfield. In that moment, they both knew what was going to happen.  Off like sprinters from the starting gates, the two of them raced to the open door. Chickadee nimbly wheeled her four hooves around the corner and narrowly slid through the doorway, leaving Quick Rick in her dust.  Still running, the two—one after the other—charged full throttle by the silos and into the hayfield. Just as Rick was about to grab Chickadee’s collar, she put on a burst of speed to keep him in her shadow. The race continued as Chickadee led Rick in a huge circle and back towards the silos. Knowing the territory expertly, she navigated to the silos. Round and round they went, each time Rick getting close, but not close enough. After several laps, Quick Rick had had enough.  He stopped and turned toward the barn to finish putting the other cows in. To his utter surprise, Chickadee (laughing, I’m sure) followed him into the barn and went right into her stall.  Without a moment of hesitation, she started eating her feed and gave Rick the look: “Gotcha.” Touchdown Chickadee. 
     Come back and score another touchdown at our store, enjoying the freedom of farm fresh food.  I want to thank everyone that visited our farm store this last month.

One of the things that I like most about working on the farm is that I don't always know what I may be doing on a particular day. Things can change in a moment and they may change through out the day. This morning was one of those days that I was called to drive tractor. We are busy chopping hay for haylage and there were not enough drivers for hauling loads so I was asked to jump into a tractor and drive. 

Many of my non-farm readers may not know this, but tractors have different ways to get them into motion and how they shift. The chopping crew has their own tractors, therefore, only one of the tractors hauling loads is ours. I was pointed to a new tractor that was part of the crew's tractors. This tractor has 4 items needed to get the tractor in motion and moving faster. First it needs to go into a gear range A through E. A is the slowest, E is the fastest. Then on the steering column there is a forward and reverse, this is good for if the tractor is used as a loader. Then there is the turtle and the rabbit push button which has 4 gears to it. Last but not least, there is the throttle.

One of the nice features of the newer tractors is that they have quiet cabs and excellent sound systems. I am sure a few people who passed me on the road today saw me singing to the radio, but that's okay. Most of the people I met on the road today waved and I even recognized a few. I am sure a few people were surprised to see a tractor and wagon at the stoplights near the truck stops, just off of I-80. 


I was relieved from the tractor after lunch by a family friend and his small grandson. This little boy had just become a big brother this morning and it was made even more special by being with his grandpa and getting to ride in a big green tractor! Now it is back to my normal duties, answering emails, going through the mail and keeping up on the book work.

As I mentioned in my first post, I came from a business analyst background as well as farming. One area that I always took for granted growing up was that everything gets done, I did not question or even realize that there is even another option. The reason that everything gets done is because farmers are the ultimate project managers.

Wikipedia defines a project manager as, " Project managers have the responsibility of the planning, execution and closing of any project." To me, this defines most any farmer. A farmer typically has many projects going on at anyone time. For example, here at Cinnamon Ridge, we had a tour from a Heritage Club at a bank, we are constructing a new heifer barn, bean planting is in full swing, and we are going to start chopping triticale hay. Some projects are small, others are more complex.

Farmers have drop-dead dates. Most of these deadlines are not self-imposed, but weather dictated. There are a few other deadlines that are not weather related, family events will cause certain project to get done by a date: graduation, weddings, and on some occasions, vacations.

Most project management skills are learned on the job. Children learn from their parents and not getting a task done in time sometimes can have catastrophic consequences. Not getting hay baled and put in the shed prior to the rain can cause thousands of dollars of loss. Not getting cows moved to a different pasture before it rains can cause a cow to lose a calf. However, even the best project managers have to work around obstacles when their best laid plans do not work. That is when, I believe, farmers shine. Farmers deal with rainstorms, equipment breakdown, and livestock. If it starts raining and the corn can't get planted, usually there are other things to do: i.e. manure to haul, a squeaky wheel that needs looking into. The only times I see farmers get impatient is when the rain lasts too long. There is only so much manure or repairs that can be done. However, when the fields dry out, farmers put in the hours needed to get the crops in.

Each year farmers have the opportunity to honetheir project management skills. Each year, farmers determine what worked well and what needs to improve or change. Some farmers even add new projects or enterprises to their roles. 

Life on the farm is rarely boring and rarely routine, most days we hope for ordinary. However, as any person that works on projects, there is always the unexpected that comes up and I guess, that is what makes life interesting and what I look forward to each morning.

Here at Cinnamon Ridge Farms we offer tours. Our most common tours is hosting foreign tours. We get guests from all over the world. Just yesterday, we had France and Brazil. While these tours are enjoyable, there is another tour we give that sometimes gives me goosebumps. The tour I am talking about is kid tours. I love it when a child all of a sudden "gets it." I think many teachers have witnessed this and I have also felt this way with my own children. 

Our kid tours are led by daughter, Kara and a retired school teacher, Dorothy. However, last week, they needed my assistance so I helped out. The kids get a wagon ride. From there they get to pet a goat and a calf. After that, they tour the robotic milking barn and see cows getting milked. After that they are treated to an ice cream cone. As I was talking to one little girl I told her that the milk from the cow is used to make ice cream. All of a sudden, her eyes lit up and she told me that she had made homemade ice cream and that they had used milk from a carton.

I excitedly told her that the milk from that carton came from a dairy cow. She ran to the window to watch the cows again and she watched with much enthusiasm.  I was so glad that I was able to share in this little girls epiphany. I hope experiences like this help our children understand the work that goes into the food that they eat rather than think the food comes just from a grocery store.

Finally, the weather has turned warm! In Iowa, this was the 3rd coldest and snowiest winter on record. Even with all that snow, It did not take long to see all the snow and the 8 foot high snow banks melt. Now it is the time that farmers look forward to.... Playing in the dirt. Farmers are ready to get their hands in the soil after months of planning. To be completely honest, I really like to work in the fields myself!

In my prior life, I enjoyed working in the field with my husband. I would haved like to be more involved, however, to help with our living expenses, I was employed off the farm as a business analyst. Meaning, I found the fastest, cheapest, and best way to electronically route work through the office. I liked my job, but there was something missing and it nagged at me... I wanted to be more involved in farming! Funny how life changes isn't it.

At my job, co-workers asked me why I like working on the farm. My reply was that I couldn't touch and feel my work. I could see peoples' tasks lists for work to do and I could read reports indicating how successful things were going, but I couldn't touch and feel it.

Working on spring planting is another activity to work as a family. One person is in the field cultivator, another is running the planter, and another is our gopher or Girl Friday. The Gopher involves getting seed corn, fertilizer, fuel, and anything else that is needed. When someone brings lunch to the field, it is another time of the year where we get to tailgate. This is where we gather out in the field and have lunch. Lunches can be as simple as sandwiches and salads to steaks cooked on the grill.


The technology that is now on the farms is something that few of us could have imagined when we were growing up. We use GPS to steer our tractors and seeds with traits to ward off insects. These two pieces of modern farming allows us to be better stewards of the land. We use less fuel and fewer chemicals. This lowers our costs and raises production.

Please watch for large machinery on the road, it is time for farmers to be going to field. Please wave to the farmers in the tractors. Who knows, one of the tractors you meet or pass could be me up in the cab! 

I hope you have a great week.