When I moved to my cute little cow town, I made a goal to have as many rural experiences as possible. I think I've done pretty well so far. I've shot both a shotgun and a potato gun, attended receptions where the line to ride the mechanical bull is longer than the receiving line, and even launched flaming produce from a catapult into an empty hay field. Today I added yet another rural gem to my country girl crown: I hoed beets.
The stakes in our area all met up at the church farm to hoe many, many, many rows of sugar beets. I was very excited to hit the fields, but failed to talk any of my friends into coming with me. Luckily I met up with my adoptive grandparents and their real grandchildren who schooled me in
the way of the beet.
It was the social event of the season, with families walking up and down a few miles worth of fields before heading back to the BBQ. It was fun to see everyone from toddlers to great-grandparents out visiting, joking, and hoeing.
I discovered that sugar beets are no where near as terrifying when the are in the ground and not flying off the back of a truck towards my windshield at 50 mph. If you are not familiar with sugar beets, here are some fun facts, courtesy of sugar beets.com:
The sugar beet plant is a root crop which grows underground. A mature sugar beet measures up to a foot long, weighs three to five pounds and can produce about five ounces of sugar. Roughly 18 percent of the beet is pure sugar. Also, I'm pretty sure sugar beets bouncing off of trucks and crashing into windshields is the leading cause of death in central Idaho, although sugar beets.com didn't say anything about that. They are probably just another part of the vast lethal sugar beet cover-up conspiracy. Seriously, somebody should call that dude from Dateline NBC and have him investigate.
One of my favorite things to see at the county fair each year is the sugar beet display. They are freakishly large (even bigger than a Haws baby's head!) and look like...well...if a turnip and a pineapple had an albino love-child, it would look a lot like a sugar beet.
I spent quite a bit of time trying to figure out why I felt so "at home" amongst the sugar beets but the answer didn't come to me until later....Back in her beauty pageant days, my mother was Miss Sugar Beet! I'll have to scan in her glamour shots and post those when harvest rolls around...provided I make it through the harvest season without becoming yet another victim of a tragic sugar beet vs. windshield collision.
The stakes in our area all met up at the church farm to hoe many, many, many rows of sugar beets. I was very excited to hit the fields, but failed to talk any of my friends into coming with me. Luckily I met up with my adoptive grandparents and their real grandchildren who schooled me in the way of the beet.
It was the social event of the season, with families walking up and down a few miles worth of fields before heading back to the BBQ. It was fun to see everyone from toddlers to great-grandparents out visiting, joking, and hoeing.
I discovered that sugar beets are no where near as terrifying when the are in the ground and not flying off the back of a truck towards my windshield at 50 mph. If you are not familiar with sugar beets, here are some fun facts, courtesy of sugar beets.com: The sugar beet plant is a root crop which grows underground. A mature sugar beet measures up to a foot long, weighs three to five pounds and can produce about five ounces of sugar. Roughly 18 percent of the beet is pure sugar. Also, I'm pretty sure sugar beets bouncing off of trucks and crashing into windshields is the leading cause of death in central Idaho, although sugar beets.com didn't say anything about that. They are probably just another part of the vast lethal sugar beet cover-up conspiracy. Seriously, somebody should call that dude from Dateline NBC and have him investigate.
One of my favorite things to see at the county fair each year is the sugar beet display. They are freakishly large (even bigger than a Haws baby's head!) and look like...well...if a turnip and a pineapple had an albino love-child, it would look a lot like a sugar beet.
I spent quite a bit of time trying to figure out why I felt so "at home" amongst the sugar beets but the answer didn't come to me until later....Back in her beauty pageant days, my mother was Miss Sugar Beet! I'll have to scan in her glamour shots and post those when harvest rolls around...provided I make it through the harvest season without becoming yet another victim of a tragic sugar beet vs. windshield collision.
