Corn Pickin Time

 

This weekend was corn pickin time at my house.  The first picture above is somewhere in America, maybe Wisconsin.  I don't think you'll see that scene here in Moldova.  At least not at my house.  Field corn for the animals.  That's what we're after.  Here you see a pile of it in our back yard.  We're out to double the size of that pile today.  We have the help of a big blue dump truck...if we can just get that dang carburetor to work right.  Family members are already up in the field cutting the corn stalks by hand with a hand scythe and laying them in piles.  Next we come along and take the dried corn ears off of the cut stalks.  I notice there's just one ear per stalk.  City boy learns more about his world.  We throw the picked corn ears in a pile and leave the corn stalks in a pile too.  Here's Sergiu getting a drink of water.  Yes, that's water even though it looks like a beer bottle.  It's very common to reuse any container like empty beer bottles for water.  Hey it looks like I've discovered an ear of corn.  I get thirsty too.  Well its a beautiful day to work here in the Raut River Valley.  The sky is a gorgeous blue, and the sun is beautiful, the temp is about mid seventies.  Everyone wants to know what I think of this activity.  I think they have picture #1 in mind when they ask.  I say its simply Romantic.  I believe they see the truth and the humor in that statement.  Well now its time to pick up the corn we picked.  Bend and throw as the truck drives down the rows.  I expect we'll be back another day to pick up the stalks.  They'll be used for food too for the animals.  Of course they'll have to be ground up first by Ilea day after day as he uses it to feed the cows.  Hey its time for lunch.  We gather round in the field to enjoy some home made bread, brinsa (cheese), tomatoes, and a can of tuna fish.  Oh there's a few hard boiled eggs here as well.  Back to work after lunch and then time to drive the harvest home, if only that darn truck would start.  Is it the carburetor or is the gas tank too low?  Oh us field hands leave it to the farmer and the driver to figure out.  We head back to the village across the stream.