On the farm, October is a month of harvest. In Scott County and all throughout the midwest, corn is king and has played a significant role in our food, fiber and fuel. Today we can see the latest technologies and hybrids at the Farm Progress Show. But from 1920-1941, people gathered by the thousands at corn husking competitions. For the 1940 national corn husking competition, there were more than 120,000 people gathered at the Henry Keppy Farm Northwest of Davenport. With food tents, a parade, vendor booths and live radio broadcasts, it was more than just a husking competition. It was a great honor for Scott County to be selected for the national competition.
My father, George A. Maxwell and his brother Johnny were a contestants at the Keppy farm competition. At home, he and Johnny would practice husking quickly and throwing ears into the double box wagon to prepare for the competition. Their goal was to always have three ears of corn in the air going into the wagon. Despite all the practice, neither my father nor uncle placed in the contest.
The 1941 contest was the last, as the United States entered World War Two that December. After the war, mechanical harvesting took over and husking contests were just a memory.
Today we have harvesters that steer themselves, harvest 12 or more rows at one time and harvest as much corn in a minute as a husker could do by hand in an hour.
Cinnamon Ridge Farms offers many harvest treats, including pumpkin bars at our store. Please visit us at tourmyfarm.com.

​For over ten years, Cinnamon Ridge Farm has been exhibiting Jersey dairy cattle at the Iowa State Fair. All cattle must remain at the fair for four days, so in between feeding and caring for our cows, I get a chance to explore the fair. My two favorite buildings are the Agricultural Building and the Food Building: great people and fun exhibits!  Three years ago, I was chatting with a supervisor in the Food Building. The supervisor let me know that interested companies or individuals can create and sponsor contests.  I’ve always loved a good competition, so I decided to create one: a cheese curd recipe contest!  For the past two years, we at Cinnamon Ridge Farm have sponsored this contest in the State Fair’s Food Building. Using a recipe that includes cheese curds, entrants submit a product in hopes to win $100, $75 or $50. The contest started with five entries in 2016 and almost tripled to fourteen this past summer.
 
On its first year, my cousin Yogi, who exhibits his sheep at the Iowa State Fair, was not busy on the Thursday morning of the contest. I asked if he’d like to come along with me and observe the judging. He agreed, so we headed over to the Food Building. While we watched the contest, I asked the supervisor what happens to the entries after the judges have finished tasting them. She replied, “They get thrown away.” Yogi and I were both feeling a bit hungry, and as farmers, we wanted to do our part in curbing food waste in the United States. As the contest progressed, Yogi and I ate whatever the judges hadn’t.  The judging concluded, and everyone prepared to hear the results. When first place was announced, Yogi and I looked at each other and agreed that, yes, it had been the most delicious. The supervisor came over and asked where the remainder of the first prize entry was, as it is customary for the winning entry to be displayed with a blue ribbon for the remainder of the fair. Yogi and I were forced to sheepishly admit that we had eaten all of it, not wanting such a delicious dish to go to waste! The supervisor was clearly displeased. But we learned our lesson, and at this year’s contest, we made sure to wait until the results were announced before eating the leftovers.  Even the first runner-up was delicious!  Yum!
 
You can now find the award-winning Cinnamon Ridge Cheese curds at North Scott Foods in Eldridge, along with Freight House Farmers Market and Cinnamon Ridge Country Cupboard. Happy Thanksgiving!

     ​For her tenth birthday, my youngest daughter Kara received a guinea pig. We had originally planned for her to have a hamster or gerbil, but the only small animal up for adoption at the humane society was Nibbles the guinea pig. While Nibbles was his official name, most of the time we referred to him as simply Pig.
     Pig lived in a plastic tote with eight inch tall sides. Inside the tub he had his food bowl, water bottle and a wooden house Kara constructed for him. Although his walls were only eight inches tall and he easily could’ve jumped out, Pig never did.
Each time we gave Pig a treat, like some cucumber skin or a strawberry top, we would whistle. Much like Pavlov’s dog, Pig came to expect the treat whenever he heard the whistle. He would jump on top of his little house, chatter his teeth and squeal with anticipation. 
     Kara loved Pig and played with him daily. He loved her to scratch his chin and rub his nose. He also let Kara know he did not like having his back or rump scratched. He would chatter his teeth, jump into his tote and hide in his little house.
One day Kara and Pig were playing on the living room recliner. The were having a great time until Kara got the idea to set Pig on the recliner’s head rest and then flip the lever. I’m not sure what ten-year-old Kara expected would happen, but certainly this development resulted in a turn of events that Pig did not anticipate.  The recliner popped forward, launching Pig into space.  Eyes wide and limbs spread out, he sailed over the recliner until, remarkably, he landed on his feet several yards away. Pig lost no time and immediately ran for his tote.  Without hesitation, he scrambled over the side and sought refuge inside his wooden house. He refused to venture out the rest of the day, fearing another flying adventure. Kara got the message and never sprung those kind of shenanigans on him again.
     We have many (non-flying) animals on our farm that you can see on a tour. Please visit our website www.tourmyfarm.com to book a tour. We hope to see you soon!

​     The school bus was abuzz with anticipation for the day’s field trip. The second graders eagerly peered out the windows as the bus turned into the lane of Cinnamon Ridge Farms. A chorus of “Old John Maxwell had a farm” concluded as the bus came to a stop in front of the new blue and white barn. There to greet them, Joan Maxwell hopped on the bus to welcome everyone. As she told them about the wagon ride, the kids cheered.
     Giggling and smiling, the kids climbed up onto the wagon and set off for a tour of the fields. On the wagon ride, the class learned about the crops (winter wheat, corn, and soybeans) growing in the fields. When they returned to the blue barn after the ride, all the class gathered around a pen of light brown fuzzy calves. The class learned many new things: calves drink milk, eat corn and oats, have ear tags, and lose their teeth. Some wondered if the tooth fairy comes for the calves.  Time with babies isn’t done: a newly hatched chick was carefully held out for each kid to feel its soft down.
      Their next stop was the dairy barn. As they watch the robotic milkers milking the cows, the class learns milking cows enjoy a pampered lifestyle.  Even their food is specially designed: a delicious ration of many different ingredients mixed together, called a total mix ration or TMR.  As buckets are passed around, the kids run their fingers through the individual ingredients: smooth cottonseeds, powdery soybean meal, hay, brightly colored grain, and hearty silage.  Joan teaches the kids that cows at Cinnamon Ridge are Jerseys, one of the five dairy breeds.  After explaining that most Jerseys have brown hair, she asked what color milk they think Jerseys give. A few were perplexed, but most knew that white milk comes from brown cows. 
      After more learning and watching the cows, the group enjoyed a Whitey’s ice cream treat. While everyone enjoys their ice cream, Joan tells them a few jokes:

• Why do cows wear bells? (Because their horns don’t work!)
• What do you call a cow that has just given birth? (De-calf-inated)
• What do you call a sleeping bull? (A bulldozer)

    Once all the kids were back on the bus, Joan bid them farewell and asked one final question: “Where does milk come from?” “Cows!” shouted the class. Joan smiled and said, “Another successful tour.”
Cinnamon Ridge offers customized tours to all ages. To book a tour, go to www.tourmyfarm.com.

     It was a dark and stormy night.  Thunder rumbled.  So did the man's stomach.  His headlights cut through the wet darkness of 275th Street.  In the distance, a warm light beckoned.  Hands gripping the wheel, the man's mouth watered as the light drew closer and, finally, wheels turned into the gravel drive.  The windows of the small building illuminated his dash through the rain, jacket held over his head.  Stepping inside the dry, warm haven, the man shook off the rain drops and focused on his goal: farm-raised, juicy sirloin steak.  It was midnight: where else could he buy meat like that on a late night like this?  In the freezer, two packages just the right size.  And, yes, a package of bacon cheddar cheese curds for him, and a bar of fresh soap for the wife.  Perfect.  The rain still pounding on the roof, his pencil calculated the total, and he slipped payment into the slot.  Five minutes from start to finish at the Cinnamon Ridge Self-Serve Farm Store on 275th Street, just outside of Donahue, and the man was back in his car driving toward home and his grill, creamy cheese curds staving off the hunger pangs.
“Where’s the beef?” I was asked this question for years by people interested in purchasing meat directly from our dairy farm where we milk 220 Jersey cows with 4 Lely robots and make cheese from their milk. Most of these people wanted to buy a few specific cuts of meat, not a whole or half beef, as is common when buying from the farmer. After seeing a self-serve, honor system flower stand in Chile, I thought I’d try to use that system to market farm-fresh products. While it started with frozen beef and pork, I’ve since added fresh eggs, our award-winning cheese, baked goods, milk soap and cutting boards.  In addition to aged cheddar and Gouda, we also offer fresh cheese curds, original flavor and also seasonal varieties such as bacon, ranch, or garlic and herb.  Not only do people love the flavor of our award-winning beef, but they also appreciate that it’s raised on our farm without additional growth hormones and antibiotics are only used when necessary to treat a sick animal.
The honor system has worked very well for at our store. People come in, select their products, use the provided scratch paper and calculators to figure the price, and put the money in the slot. The store is open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. It’s a real testament to the amazing community we live in.  The honor system works because people in our region can be trusted.
Our products are also offered at the Freight House Farmers Market in Davenport, The Depot restaurant in Donahue, Barley and Rye Bistro in Moline and several Quad-City Hy-Vee locations. If you’re interested in learning more about our farm, please visit our website www.tourmyfarm.com. We offer tours of our farm year round.

​As the earth wakes up in April, farmers have a narrow window of time to plant seeds in their fields.  For my father as a young man in the 1920’s, he would greet the spring breezes by tackling the fields with literal horse power.  In the dark, pre-dawn hours, George would hitch geldings Donny and Sal to the plow, drive them to the field, and proceed to till the field several times over.  Though time-consuming, this extra care would level the field to create a smooth seed bed, easier to plant and harder for weeds to later take over the crop.  When the field was finally ready, he would hitch Donny and Sal to a single row planter.  This planter used a check wire to place the seeds the correct distance apart.  A big day would be five acres planted.
 
In the 1940s my father purchased a tractor and two row planter, with which he could do more than double acres in a day than he did with Donny and Sal. By the 1970s, we were using a bigger tractor and 12 row planter which could easily do 100 acres in a day. 
 
This spring I will jump into the fields just as early as Dad did.  Yet in the 4 AM chilly darkness, I will hitch the power of not just two, but 260 horses to a shiny, green 32-row planter.  With this planter I can plant 250 acres a day.  Both Dad’s plow and his single-row planter with a check wire have long been retired.  Thanks to advancements which make no-till or very little tilling feasible, I can skip Dad’s painstaking steps of leveling the field and preparing the soil. Not only does this save precious time, but it also allows me to conserve the soil and reduce fuel usage. Plus, no-till increases the quality of water runoff and leaves a smaller carbon footprint.  The planter I will hitch to my tractor includes technology my dad could probably never have dreamt of!  It monitors seed placement, seed depth, seed population, and more.  It can even vary the population mid-field according to productivity of the soil!  Although I am needed to oversee everything in the cab, once in the field the tractor navigates itself through the field using GPS precision to utilize every possible inch and maximize yields. All this technology helps farmers like me reduce cost and boost productivity, so food prices remain low to you, the US consumer. With all this advancement, I wonder what the next 50 years will bring.
 
When you buy directly from us, you are receiving the benefit of this and other amazing technology that allows us to care for our land and livestock responsibly.  We pass both savings AND quality on to you at our Country Cupboard Store, located right on our farm near Donahue.  We hope you enjoy our great selection of our farm-raised beef, pork, cheese, and eggs!

     ​One of the many blessings my five siblings and I experienced growing up on our farm was our horse, Major. We spent days with Major and he was a great source of entertainment for all of us. Like most animals, Major had a personality all his own. He knew how to get his way without ever hurting us.
Major was a racehorse before he came to the Maxwell farm. Though he had been burned in a trailer fire and was unable to race, his bloodlines and persistent attitude made him the challenge champion of the neighborhood. Many neighbors and friends came over to see if their horse could best Major, but none ever prevailed. Through all the years, Major never lost a race.
     Major was often tethered in our apple orchard. When Major grew tired of his location, he would yank the stake out of the ground and run with his head to the side so he wouldn’t trip himself on the chain. When he was thirsty, rather than drink out of his water tub, he would trot to the hydrant, use his head to turn it on and then proceed to get an icy cold drink. As clever as he was, however, Major never would turn off the hydrant when he was done! Many times the driveway would be drenched in water because Major left the hydrant on. The ducks, of course, loved the swampy driveway and always took the opportunity to frolic in the mess Major had made.
     When Major tired of having someone on his back, he would find a tree with a low branch and squeeze himself under it, knocking the rider to the ground. He would then proceed to turn around and look at the rider, as if to say, “What are you doing down there?” When the rider tried to remount, Major would spin in a circle or take a few quick steps, making it impossible to get on. When Major was tired of being ridden, that was it for the day. No amount of coercion or persistence would change his mind.
     Sometimes we would ride Major to our aunt and uncle’s house a quarter mile up the road. Major would be trotting along, sometimes with two or three of us on his back, then stop suddenly with the riders all tumbling forward over his neck to the ground. If we stayed longer than Major wished, he would untie himself and head for home, leaving us to walk back.
     Major was one of the many benefits my siblings and I enjoyed from growing up on a farm. Another benefit was eating from the fruits of our labor, dining on farm fresh food every day. You too can partake in our farm’s harvests by visiting our Country Cupboard Store and choosing from our many offerings, including beef, cheese, pork, eggs, and baked goods. We hope to see you soon!

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.