Farm Bank Deposits

Northern people have always been savers.  Those that didn’t save didn’t make the winter.  Those that saved may have made the winter.  Farmers are savers.  We are savers.  Unfortunately, we don’t have any money.  We save sunshine.  This is the main branch of the First Chism Heritage Farmers Bank, established in 18??.  We keep our sunshine here.

Isn’t it majestic? (don’t mind the paint job or the leaky roof)  Several times each year we walk up to the teller’s window to make a deposit.

Then, to keep banking fees to a minimum, we head into the vault to help arrange, sort and stack the deposits.  Here’s a small portion of this year’s deposits.

In the foreground you can see a low stack of sunshine in the form of alfalfa bales from the third cutting.  Further back, among the posts, is more sunshine in the form of grass hay we cut earlier in the year.  To the left (and out of the camera) is an absolute mountain of alfalfa hay.  There are also a few fair piles of straw tucked away here and there.  Tons and tons of sunshine.  Think of the different kinds of hay as different kinds of currency and I’ll keep my lame bank analogy running.  When withdrawals are needed we head into the vault, determine which kind of currency is in demand that day and grab a whole bale of it.

Since this is a farm economy (and something of a closed loop) any withdrawls from the loft vault are soon to become deposits somewhere else.

Then deposits somewhere else.

Then deposits somewhere else.

Then out to the alfalfa field.  Just add sunlight and a dash of rain and we’re ready to fill the barn vault again.

6 thoughts on “Farm Bank Deposits

  1. It’s mid winter, the hay mow smells of summer, reminds me of summers return.
    The old hay mows the place to play
    Fer boys, when it’s a rainy day!
    I good ‘earl Rutherford be up there
    Than down in town, er anywhere!

    James Whitcomb Riley

    Aunt Marion (93) used to drive the horse that put the loose hay in the milk barn when the men brought it in from the field. The field where the young pullets are. They would drive the wagons down the hallway and hoist it into the loft with ropes and pulleys.

    • There used to be a hook that got loaded in barns around here – you had to keep the wagon still under the hook while it got loaded up – I know this because my Granddad who was born in 1903 told me about his first summer job, as the boy on the wagon who controlled the horses – not very well – as he’d never driven a horse before, despite being raised in a farming area with no motor vehicles. It was 1915, all the young men were gone to war, so they were desperate enough to hire him I guess. He remembered being very ashamed of his lack of skill – even the girls could drive better than he could – your Aunt Marion is obviously proof!

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