Kendra
Before we know it, it’ll be time to spend several hours a day on a tractor, hauling grain to the elevator. In this, my fifth harvest season, I will admit my anxiety has largely (but not completely) disappeared and has been replaced with enjoyment.

John
It may be Kendra’s fifth “official” season, but my dad began her agricultural training years ago when I was busy and not always available to help him. Kendra likes to say Dad looked around the table, and when his eyes fell on her, he simply said, “Well, I guess you’re all I’ve got.”

With some degree of fear and trepidation, she accepted the position as his helper until I was able to adjust my schedule and take that responsibility. Next, Dad became my helper. Then five years ago, when he was no longer able, Kendra became my “hired man.”

Kendra
I like to point out the two distinct problems with that title — gender and compensation. Actually, it would be more accurate (and less amusing) to admit there is compensation involved. Do I receive a paycheck at the end of every week? No. But my compensation comes in other forms.

John
I suppose most obvious is the fact that any and all of our income from the harvest goes into our joint bank account. If there were a traditional hired man, that amount would obviously be reduced.

Kendra
True, and there are other ways I’m compensated for my labor. I actually enjoy learning more about agriculture every year. Trust me, I realize it is only a little more, but still, it’s progress.

John
Yes, Kendra is more knowledgeable, but I still find myself discouraging her from striking up a friendly conversation about farming. I’m afraid she’ll embarrass herself.

Kendra
If the truth be told, I could take care of that without sharing my limited (ever increasing) knowledge. And there are more forms of compensation that come to my mind.

My role as the one who hauls grain to the elevator means the boredom is broken. There are people at the elevator, and I love people. If I were ever given the option to drive the combine, operate the dump wagon, or take grain to the elevator, there would be no question about my decision! And yes, I know that, wisely, John will never give me those options.

John
Seeing people is a compensation that comes as no surprise. If you’ve ever met Kendra, the chances are great you noticed how delighted she was to visit with you.

Kendra
And there’s one more thing on the compensation list — the one thing I appreciate most: The first year I became John’s “hired man,” I was thrilled to realize this promotion officially removed me from kitchen duty. After all, I couldn’t be in the kitchen and on the tractor at the same time. Instead, we went to town to eat.

Hooray! I’m not fond of cooking — never have been. It wasn’t my mom’s fault. She was a good cook and used to worry needlessly that John might starve to death. Let me assure you, no one died on my watch. I just never enjoyed whipping up a meal.

For years, I said I was a bad cook until our middle son graciously corrected me. “Mom, you’re not a bad cook. You’re a disinterested one.” I love that upgrade and happily give John credit for giving me a valid excuse to embrace my disinterest — at least when I’m working as his “hired man,” which consequently, has become something I enjoy.

John and Kendra Smiley farm near East Lynn, Ill. Email [email protected], or visit kendrasmiley.com.