Lessons From A Taco Truck

It was about 4pm on Friday afternoon when I saw this old painted up cargo truck coming down our gravel road. I had heard the kids talk about taco trucks. However I had no idea they were such a phenomenon. 

Taco trucks originally started reaching out and catering to the unlikely such as miners, farm laborers, and working class folks. They not only served Mexican food, they shared conversation as folks would come and wait for their meal. Taco trucks around our country were designed for folks to experience the history of hospitality of our southern neighbors.

This truck rolled in our driveway and parked next to the cabin. A Mexican couple started setting up. They were not experiencing the current help shortage as their children came in another vehicle and helped for the evening. The Mexican folks I've been around value family.  

The venue for the evening was a wedding rehearsal supper. Both the bride and groom families encouraged Jan and I to join them for supper. The wedding parties' children were enjoying the ride-on toys and playing in the sand by the fire pit. The father of the bride is a Pioneer dealer.😊Congratulations Aaron and Gabby.

We have been waiting for months for cement caps to finish the landscaping on the south side of our machine shed across the road. This week we were able to pick up a few of them and Anton and John helped me set them in place. Jan hopes to start planting flowers and plants there as soon as I get the black dirt hauled in.

Karl started selling hogs this past week.  Kurtis came to pick up this particular load and bring them to Ottumwa. He pulls Linda's brother Larry's trailer. Grandson John occasionally helps Larry at the new truck wash along Highway 63 south.

We kept some rye for combining for two reasons. First we use a little seed for cover crop this fall on erodible acres. And second I like it when the grandkids can experience baling small square bales. Our family baling days are about over as less physical work is required for the larger square and round bales.

Stories about the old days can tend to be boring for kids. However stories of our past also define who we are and just like the hospitality and family togetherness of the  taco truck, it shows how folks enjoyed the fellowship of working together.

I told my grandkids this is the combine we used for combining oats when I was their age. It was called an All-Crop 60 with a 5 foot sickle cut and an 18 bushel hopper. It replaced the binder our grandparents used. Today's sickle cuts are up to 45 feet wide and hoppers hold 400 bushel. The All-Crop 60 was built from 1936 until the 1950s. New price in 1936 was $595. Today's sticker price on combines are now well over a half a million dollars.

Combining rye this past week reminded me of Bible stories where folks were told to leave some of the edges and corners for the unlikely. The widows, the less fortunate, and the poor. Back then those folks still had to go out and follow the reapers and work for their food.

So on Thursday our straw crew waited all day for the sun to shine so we could bale straw. However it stayed cloudy and humid so we found other jobs to do. Finally we all went in for supper early.

We came out after supper to a striking difference in the weather. The sun was out. Humidity had dropped 15%. And we had a small breeze. So I had Ezra start raking.

As the dark clouds rolled out to the east we started baling. The bales felt good however much of my straw baling crew had a 4-H meeting. Out of habit I told Ezra he was welcome to drive and I would load since we were understaffed. But he said he would load. And at 13 years old he did an outstanding job of stacking a load by himself.

However since we had so little daylight left and the forecast was rain I called BJ. He came that evening and rolled up the straw in no-time at all.

BJ also helped me pick up the 41 bales and get them off the field. So although my "experience the baling" plans went awry I was thankful for our modern day backup. Thanks BJ.

I also called Alex and asked if he could come back to work and plant. So while BJ and I loaded bales, Alex and Ezra loaded the planter with soybeans for the double crop. Thanks Alex.

By now 4-H was over so I had my straw crew check the seed depth. It doesn't matter what these kids do when they grow up, and many will probably not farm. They will not forget their childhood farming experiences. As I did as a kid they will appreciate the family togetherness. And the responsibility they have on the farm will prepare them well for whatever they choose to do.

At 2 am the following morning I woke up to the sound of thunder. I got up and sat on our porch as the rain storm rolled through. I thanked God for window of opportunity and the work accomplished after supper. I thanked Him for the rain during corn tasseling. I thanked Him for the privilege of experiencing togetherness in family.

I'm not sure of the connection but as a young child I remember going to Bible School at the Wymore Methodist Church north of Rose Hill with Mrs. Dopp as my teacher. As an adult we often went by this church and cemetery on our way to the Denney farm.

Early Monday morning as I was making coffee I heard on the scanner there was a vacant church on fire north of Rose Hill. With a quiet previous evening and no electricity involved someone chose to use the holiday to burn it to the ground. I was bummed losing this past memory.

Sometimes we are taught to think that our lives will be measured by our greatest moments. When in fact I think it's the little things we do for others that will count the most. The serving. The sharing. And the hospitality of a taco truck. Thanks so much for stopping by and have a good week.