First off, farmers aren’t appreciated nearly enough for what they do, and how hard they work. These TikTok kids wouldn’t last 30 seconds dancing in an Iowa cornfield, mid July. For one guy (in Poland), he took standing your ground to an entirely new level…
According to the video, this farmer refused to sell his land to developers as they built up new apartment complexes in the area of Lublin. You see this all the time, all over the world, as towns and cities enter a booming phase of growth.
However, you usually don’t see such confident middle finger to the guys in business suits.
“…a farmer who cultivates his land among blocks of flats in the city of Lublin in Poland with a population of 350,000. He did not want to sell his land to developers, instead, he decided to work on it while being a big attraction for the local residents.”
NO F*CKS GIVEN.
What a boss move – going to have a glass of potato vodka in his honor.
Speaking of farmers, is Ram Trucks’ “So God Made a Farmer” Super Bowl Commercial the best of all time?
And on the eighth day, God looked down on his planned paradise and said, “I need a caretaker.”
So God made a farmer.
God said, “I need somebody willing to get up before dawn, milk cows, work all day in the field, milk cows again, eat supper, then go to town and stay past midnight at a meeting of the school board.”
So God made a farmer.
God said, “I need somebody willing to sit up all night with a newborn colt and watch it die, then dry his eyes and say,’Maybe next year,’ I need somebody who can shape an ax handle from an ash tree, shoe a horse with hunk of car tire, who can make a harness out hay wire, feed sacks and shoe scraps. Who, during planting time and harvest season will finish his 40-hour week by Tuesday noon and then, paining from tractor back, put in another 72 hours.”
So God made the farmer.
God said, “I need somebody strong enough to clear trees and heave bales, yet gentle enough to yean lambs and wean pigs and tend the pink-comb pullets, who will stop his mower for an hour to splint the leg of a meadowlark.”
It had to be somebody who’d plow deep and straight and not cut corners. Somebody to seed, weed, feed, breed, and brake, and disk, and plow, and plant, and tie the fleece and strain the milk, . Somebody who’d bale a family together with the soft, strong bonds of sharing, who would laugh, and then sigh and then reply with smiling eyes when his son says that he wants to spend his life doing what Dad does. “