Conrad Hicks,,TRUE FARMER

Conrad Hicks,,TRUE FARMER

Its hard to write about my father, he just passed away last March. I miss him more than I could ever imagine, but most of all I miss my partner, my best friend, and the one person who believed in and lived the life of a farmer.  All sorts have started to call themselves "farmers" now, with the new bandwagon that Joel Salatin fired up.  I believe that that title  has to be earned. A flock of chickens docent make you a "farmer".. I grew up with farmers..and I find it hard to find the true, salt of the earth...shoulder to the plow..if the good lord willin..folks who lived off the land. They worked sun up ..sun down and not for any glory.  My father managed a farm of 1200 feeder cattle..he grew all the feed. Corn was planted..by the hundred acres. He raised wheat..filling semi load after  semi with the combine. Fox Ridge had 5 silo's thatwere brimming with fresh ground feed..the smell of the grounded feed was sweet an lingered on your clothes.  When a silo would jam..my father would climb to the top ad jump from silo to silo with a wrench..a feat i never saw another even attempt. My father also ran his own herd of cattle..we rented 12 farms..and had 800 cows. 

All these farms are now developd..the good fertile farmland lost.  My father was  a loner..and worked by himself..I was his only helper, so  I grew up tough and hard.  I was the youngest..and the tomboy..my sister who has now passed..sadly..didn't like to "get dirty". As long as I can remember .,i was driving, baling hay, trowing square bales in a hot dusty barn. We worked cattle, and a few were crazy. I was stomped, beaten,ran over,and put in the hospital by many upset cattle. My father would get mad, cuss at me..tell me I wouldn't be worth a damn now all banged up. We put up miles of fence, my father cussing the heat, the ground, the damn streachers, and me.  Conrad had a way with  "words" you could say and a fiery temper like a knife, he was fast and touth as leather. He never backed down from anything and raised me to do the same. The only times I ever saw my father down was when I would hit him with a cow stick. We were loading a  about 120 steers all day onto trailer load after trailer load...the steers  were hot and mad. They started comming  at you, knockin you down.  One really pissed off 800 pound steer didn't want to go onto the trailer and kept turning around, running you into the ground, I let him by ..well..he shoved the gate on top of me and ran over me...with the rest doing the same..my father got so worked up and mad..cussing me,,that I hit him with the cow stick. This would happen a lot..he would drive me to the breaking point, all dirty and cut, bruised and tired, either I would walk off or fight him.

If I hit him with a cow stick , he would stop everything and cry in his truck.  Then i would feel terrible.

He would sniffle and  say.." I don't mean to yell at u connie, we just need to get the GD steers on the GD trailer fore noon..that GD steer aint gonna hurt you..i be GD...shit,,!!

We made hay, thousands of bales. We worked on tractors. If it was pouring down raining, you were in the shop, greasing equipment. fixin stuff. sharpening blades. changing oil..filters.. 

We had a milkcow, made our butter, we had pigs. made our own sausage and meat....we made apple butter. had chickens.and yes they were .."free ranged"...we killed our own beef..and had a huge garden.

My mother sold sweet corn and preserves at the farmers markets. We picked roots, hunted mushrooms,and foraged for berries, walnuts.  My sister and I set out all day to gather berries..and made the best preserves..apricot..persimmon..blackberry..we picked wild mustard..cress salad. Gigged frogs, and ate turtle.  fished. My father was a true farmer. His father was a true farmer..and his..It was a time when you could truly live off the land. Make a decent living, feed  your family and maybe buy a truck.

Today, im sad to say , its almost impossible. We are buying everything at retail prices..feed..tractors..fencing material..trucks..diesel..supplies..and expected to sell wholesale. Its costing me more to raise an animal than i can sell it for,,or just break even.

Fox Ridge Farm

This is where i grew up. Fox Ridge Farm..in a little 150 year old shaker cottage. My parents managed the farm and raised cattle,pigs, chickens and lots of crops.

We made our own butter, milked the cow,and butchered our own meat. I spent my days working hard, building fences,working with the cattle,picking corn,plowing up the land for wheat,and making hay.

I was driving a tractor and making hay at 9 years old. My father and I butchered  a couple steers every year for meat..and hogs..we salted down the hams and hung them in the smokehouse. Supper meant chasing down a chicken,catching fish,and picking something from the garden. In the summer we canned. Picked blackberries and froze them. there was so much good food..fresh chicken,corn,beans,cobblers and hand churned ice-cream. For fun we rode horses, mules,and donkeys. we went swimming in the river or ponds. I never went to town, or a movie, or a restaurant when i grew up. Back then, farming was hard work, I worked 2 hours before school..milk the cows,get the eggs,clean stalls, feed the cows. Ride with dad and check the other farms we took care of. That's the shaker cottage on the right. The original barn is the smaller one on the right. I am so blessed to have lived here ,growing up,among the mountains, cattle,  farmers,family,horses,pigs,rivers and fishing.

Laughs with Pigs

pig farmer

I was born and raised on a farm. I had the ideal childhood, growing up on Fox Ridge Farm.. 2 miles down the road from where I now live. Ive traveled all over the world,lived in amazing places. Paris,Barcelona,Athens,Munich,Tokyo..New York, working as an actress and model. I knew I would always give up the glitzy life and return to the farm. Its in my blood, Im the 6th generation to farm this land.
Its a hard row to hoe, there isn't any money or time enough to fulfill the vision of more cattle,better barns,more crops.          Last night we had snow. The new litter of pigs didn't know what to think. They ran and spun around, jumped and squealed..I laughed so hard,and thought of the simple pleasures of the farm.
This is why I hold on to the land and the dream. Simple Pleasures.

Glouster Old Spots

pigs love to be cuddled

Farm Life

Welcome to the new blog. Im really excited to share the happenings on the farm and from other farmers as well..you will enjoy photos,stories,and inspiration.