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Mychal Wilmes

Mychal Wilmes grew up on a diversified farm in south-central Minnesota.

The youngest of 12 children, he often writes about the memories of growing up weeding fields, baling hay and picking corn. His older siblings never tire of reminding him that they had it much tougher than he. In many ways, they are right.

Wilmes milked cows and baled hay until moving to a writing career in his mid-30s. He is thankful for the years spent on the farm and for the rural roots that remain strong.

“People in cities may forget the soil for as long as 100 years, but Mother Nature’s memory is long, and she will not let them forget indefinitely."
The appetite for rhubarb upside down cake, sauce and pies grow stronger even as the plants’ first leaves struggle to emerge in the cold and gloomy weather, Mychal Wilmes says.
Late-winter blizzards are most cruel, Mychal Wilmes says.
Mychal Wilmes found his dad to be as relaxed as he ever was when he was sitting on the porch cutting seed potatoes.
Mychal Wilmes explains the arguments in his home about what to keep and what to throw and times when it was better to come clean with the truth than to cover it up.
Mychal Wilmes recalls times when planting and the early growing season was interrupted by wild weather.
"The United States has been blessed to maintain its family farming system through thick and thin."
Mychal Wilmes recalls when pork was the most consumed meat and industries and cities were built up around stockyards.
Mychal Wilmes discusses some of the conversations he had at the Agweek Farm Show and of other things those conversations put him in mind of.
"Hope springs eternal, which makes it possible yet to fashion weapons of war into plowshares. The Biblical hope seems wishful thinking now that nations have enough nuclear weapons to poison the world."