The sweet corn harvest season has begun again this year! My mom wanted to sell the corn we grew on our farm at the local direct-sales store even back when we were still raising pigs. Now, it’s become our main product in early summer.
At the time, my dad and mom had just started growing vegetables for shipment, as we’d scaled down our pig farming operation. They usually only produced small quantities, just enough to display at the direct-sales store. I remember my mom suggesting, “Since it’s corn from a pig farmer, how about we put a ‘Porker Corn’ sticker on it?” I just gave a wry smile at her idea, chuckling to myself.
For the corn harvest, we start working before sunrise. From there, the shipping preparation begins just before 7 AM. To make it on time, I stayed at my parents’ house this weekend, as I’m the weekend helper.
Our Division of Labor
I arrived late the night before, past 1 AM. Although I felt a bit bad for my dad and mom, I didn’t have the energy to wake up before 5 AM to help with the harvest. So, my Sunday started when I woke up to the sound of the small truck returning.
I got ready and went to the shed where they were working on the shipment. I unloaded the corn from the truck, and we started working. My dad was in charge of the corn to be shipped in baskets. I took on the task of packing the corn into cardboard boxes for shipment, and my mom was in charge of bagging the corn that would be displayed at the agricultural cooperative’s direct-sales store.
For the boxed corn, we pack larger ones, size LL (380g to 500g). It seems they decided to sell corn weighing over 500g at the direct-sales store instead of boxing it, so my mom handles bagging those.
Even though my dad and mom ship small quantities of corn, sorting according to specifications is naturally necessary when sending it to the agricultural cooperative. I checked to make sure there wasn’t anything that couldn’t be shipped, then cut off the stem ends, weighed them, and lined them up. Corn weighing over 500g was separated into baskets, and my mom would bag them two ears at a time. Since it had rained until late the previous night, we started by wiping down the wet corn as we worked.
While we were working, my dad kept talking about things that happened since last Sunday, the quality of the corn, and how sales were going. It seems he had a lot he wanted to talk about, living with my mom who has become less talkative and often has trouble keeping up with conversations. I gave appropriate responses to his stories, sorted corn, and kept an eye on my mom’s work.
When the corn set aside in the basket ran out, my mom started bagging corn from the pile meant for boxing. Since my mom was in charge of the much larger-sized corn, she didn’t have a lot of work to do, so she had free time and would pick up different ears of corn. I repeatedly told my mom, “That corn is for boxing!” She apparently had to redo the bagging several times the day before!
After my dad finished his tasks, he and my mom left for the first shipment, separate from the items I was handling. The cardboard boxes could be shipped in the afternoon, so they took everything else to the market and direct-sales store in the morning.
A Small Garden and Memories From a Year Ago
While they were gone, I took a short break. Counting the ripe lemons and checking on the vegetable patch in the backyard has become my recent routine.
The vegetables I grow without much intervention are coming along, with garden lettuce and bell peppers doing fairly well, though germination is uneven. However, the perilla leaves my wife asked for have barely sprouted, and the basil isn’t great either. I thought about waiting until next week to see how they do and possibly reseeding, and my observation was over in about five minutes.
After I finished packing the boxes, my dad returned from the agricultural cooperative. I listened to his stories, loaded the cardboard boxes onto the small truck, and cleaned up, marking the end of our work. My dad was delighted, saying that most of the corn we took to the direct-sales store sold right away as they were being put out. Farmers really appreciate that!
This was the first time in a year I helped with the corn shipment. Watching them, I remembered last year’s work. I feel like my mom could handle simple tasks like “this is for boxing, this is for bagging” on her own then. My dad, with his somewhat overbearing personality, would complain every time she made a mistake, so I’d often interject. As a result, I’d make my dad sad, which left me with a strange feeling.
One year has passed since then. Even if their daily conversations don’t flow as smoothly, my dad still talks to my mom as if she’s as healthy as before, saying whatever he wants to say.
This year’s corn harvest, though the production volume has decreased, the workload has increased, making it seem harder than before. Even so, my dad doesn’t complain or grumble. He accepts my mom’s mistakes with a “can’t be helped” attitude and redoes the work himself. I see that as a small change too.
Ultimately, the “Porker Corn” stickers were never used, but the shift from pig farming to vegetable farming really did start with my mom’s corn back then.
Additional information:
- Agricultural Cooperative (農協 – Nōkyō): A cooperative organization in Japan that supports farmers by providing services such as selling their produce, supplying materials, and offering financial services.
- Direct-sales store (直売所 – Chokubaijo): A retail outlet, often located near farms, where farmers sell their produce directly to consumers, bypassing intermediaries.
