So you want to be a Farmer?

Cue (NZERS), Issue 22, 30 April 1945, Page 17

So you want to be a Farmer?

— By

that epic film 1 ’’The Good Earth'' rlwf Paul Muni, depicting a Chinese peasant, is shown in one scene squatting on his -Sy • heels, alternately F.cgp' pawing at the earth '~ L and letting trickles vl3 of soil run through his half -closed fists while an expression of heartfelt love of the land plays over his face. Similar scenes are portrayed in ’’Tobacco Road” and ’'The Grapes of Wrath,” and in many other films and plays. Readers may have seen up-to-date news reels showing wounded men invalided back to their home country reaching eagerly down to touch with their fingers the timbers of the docks which signify ’’home”.

Behind all such scenessome joyful, some poignant, some quiet, some emotional a fundamental part of every man’s normal make-up— love of his own part of the earth. In some men this love lies dormant —in others it is ever-present, but in all men it exists in varying degrees in the inner fibres of emotion.

Among the many now serving in the 2 NZ E F are numerous farmers, orchardists, and horticulturists in whom exists a deep-rooted love- of the land. To such men, whether they will admit it or not, the ’’call of the land’’ 18 a very real thing. To such men the earth calls and is not to be denied. To men life is not fully lived unless it be lived on the land. In the remain. ln ß groups of men there are many who, before becoming a cog in the military machine, were engaged in

occupations which kept them in towns. Frequently these jobs called for a mechanical adherence to laiddown work hours; a daily scramble to catch suburban trains, trams, or buses; days

spent in the heavy stale atmosphere of insufficiently ventilated offices or workshops; hurried meals grabbed from a self-help cafateria; and all the other inconveniences and inhumanities of ’’civilised” city life. To each such man, if he is fortunate, sis available a small section on which he may live and, in his few leisure moments, exercise his love of the earth by the attentions he pays to his garden. Surely the fact that so many towndwellers spend so much of their ’’free” time in their gardens bears cut the contention that men—if permanently separated from the —find life incomplete ?

Is it, then, any wonder that many men in the Forces may be heard proclaiming ”no more town for me when I get home again”? After the openair life of the army, with its closeoften too closercontact with the earthy the air and the sky, the mere thought of a return to that stuffy office, that greasy workshop, that poorly lit showroom, that restricted area marked ’’Teller”, or whatever it may be, strikes thoughts of distaste or open rebellion. So for many such men the cry of "an open-air life for me” becomes a catchword for the future. The townsman dreams of green fields, open skies, surroundings where he can feel at one

A with life-where he can work without irksome restrictions as to dress and the clock— his children can play in safety away from crowded streets and dangerous traffic, and all the rest of it. /But there is another side of this picture, and perhaps it is one which tends to be overlooked. To the man who* entertains ideas along the lines indicated, the following thoughts are directed.

You, who used to crawl unwillingly from the sheets at 7.30 a.m. to rush through a shave and light breakfast in time to be at the office by 8.30 a.m. — can you face the thought of daily rising at 4 a.m. to be in the milking sheds on time? You, who took a pride in the crease of your trousers and the shine of your shoes-can you with equanimity 'face cleaning out the cowbails or the pig-sty, or relish a day of Bordeaux spraying? You, who; return to your tidy section at 5 or 5.30 p.m. ready to put on your ’’garden togs” and spend an hour or so of relaxation amongst your flowers and vegetables—can you be happy in the thought that although you have been working from daylight you must carry on till dark — that when you finally get inside you may have to spend an hour or so on the Farm Accounts? You, who are inclined to belittle the regular ’’Friday envelope”—can you face the possibility of an empty cashbox due to adverse circumstances caused maybe by the wiping out of a crop by unseasonable weather,' or a sudden illness striking down your stock? Youwho enjoyed, unknowingly perhaps, the pleasant companionship of your fellow workers at

the bench, desk, or counter—can you face cheerfully the long days of hard work with only yourself for company?

So it goes on. There are many moresuch points which should be considered before a decision Its arrived at. Have you good health and a strong physique? Farming demands plenty of strength, and comparative freedom from recurring illnesses. There is mo sick pay or sick leave for the farmer, and a man with a tendency to break down in a rush period is a liability to himself and his farm.

What is your age? If you are nearing middle-age you need to remember that it takes some yeans to become fully-trained, and, further, that if you start buying a farm in middle-age it may well be that you will barely come into full ownership before old age catches up with you.

If you decide that in spite of all these things the farm life is for you, then you will stand a chance of making good. If you love nature sufficiently to maintain that love whatever misfortunes may overtake your venture, you stand a chance. .If you feel in your inner being that tilling the land carries compensations not measurable in terms of hard cash, you may make good. If you can enthuse over the colour of the sun-rise, or the beauty of the thunderstorm, even while you toil and sweat, you stand a chance. If you ever lived on a farm, as a youngster, or if your parents were on the land,

you may fare well. If you can appreciate that working on a farm or ■orchard is more than just a means o existence, that it holds intangib e values as well as concrete ones, jou

have a chance. If you can work for work’s sake, if you can face the thought of harder work than you have ever .experienced before, coupled with, at times, inadequate financial return, yet rejoice in the struggle for supremacy, you have many of the qualities needed to be a successful farmer.

f f ”To watch the corn grow and the blossoms set; to draw hard breath over ploughshare or spade; to read, to think, to love, to hope, to toil—these are the things which make men happy.” Thus wrote John Ruskin, and if you can honestly agree, then follow the call of the land. But if you hanker after the more material things of life, consider your position and yourself very deeply before taking the plunge.

To the man who hears it, the call of the land is subtle magic to the man insensible to it', a life such as a farmer must lead can be a veritable hell cm earth. What, is it to be? Only you can make the decision—do not take it lightly.