Bikinis and Straw Bales
(Talk of the Town photo by Kelley Sheiss) Whoa! Below, beware of the glare!
It's August and the warmth of summer has finally arrived. While many of us are getting our money's worth out of shorts and tank tops, most farmers tolerate the heat in their traditional work pants and t-shirts, garnering the coveted "farmer tan." 
Provided we're not working with straw or hay here on the farm, I'll break tradition and try to stay cool with a pair of denim shorts, set off by my fashionable "poop boots." I learned to keep bare legs clear of hay during a summer work stint in college at the university dairy barns. It was an extremely hot day, and our job was to unload hay. A friend of mine suggested we'd be more comfortable in shorts. Ha! That night, my legs looked as if dozens of angry barn cats had used them as scratching posts. Now when there's hay to unload, I keep my pants on, so to speak. Otherwise, I have no problem with a little (or a lot) of mud, manure, or other debris accumulating on my legs, provided I can stay cool.
Not so for my husband or son. For them, it's pretty much jeans all the time. Donnie even wore jeans (black, of course) with his tuxedo jacket at our wedding. Rarely, if ever, will you see either of them in shorts. And if you do, please turn your head the other way when you laugh. Donnie's legs make a polar bear look tan. He's warmed up to the idea of shorts over the years. A couple of trips to the beach and he's accumulated several pairs. If it's a really hot day and he's mowing hay or here at the house, you may be lucky enough to catch him in his signature Wrangler cut-offs (but you'd better have some shades on to ward off the glare!).
There is one wardrobe item that rarely finds usefulness around the farm – a bathing suit; especially a bikini. Nope, it just doesn't cut it when loading hogs, sacking feed or cleaning pens. It is o.k. for mowing the lawn or even walking pigs. That's why I took such a fascination a few years ago to a photo feature in a popular magazine's swimsuit edition. Of course, Donnie gets the magazine because he enjoys sports, but this little extra of a swimsuit edition is certainly an added bonus. I realize some may not enjoy this particular issue, but I do have to say it is a wonderful display of photography and I can only dream of having a body such as those featured.
About two years ago, one of the locations was not tropical at all. It happened to be in a rural farming area of Iowa. The pictures were some of Donnie's all time favorites, so in trying to keep the spice alive in our marriage I studied the pictures, pondering if I could recreate them so he'd have something to post on the wall of his hog barn. It just wasn't meant to be.
The one picture had a young, pig-tailed blonde posing coyfully on top of a large round straw bale. Yes, she had on shorts AND a bikini top. We usually did only small square straw bales until this summer, when we had some round-bales done. Here was my chance for a photo opp. As I stood looking at the round bale, reality set in. First, she didn't climb up there. Someone placed her up there. Second, there wasn't a scratch on her, so I'm guessing she was encased in bubble wrap until her proper placement perfectly on top of the bale. Not trying to feel too discouraged, I opted to skip this one. Besides, I don't have cute blonde pigtails. The second picture that would capture any young farmer's attention was of a svelte brunette, again in a bikini, tucked in a large tire. She seemed to fit in there quite easily, and with the yellow rim I figured it must be a John Deere tractor or combine tire. No problem! I headed out to the machine shed in my end-of-year clearance bikini and found the biggest tire we have, which was attached to the combine. Well, looks sure can be deceiving. It was either the $900 bikini she wore and some great air-brushing, or this model was only about 3 foot tall, 45 pounds and 8 inches wide. As I tried to stuff myself in the tire rim for my final try at a birthday photo for Donnie, I found my chin shoved in my neck, my legs up over my head, and not one, but three muffin tops glaring up at me. It took me 15 minutes, two Advil, a chiropractor appointment and a mental health counseling session to make me feel better after that episode. Needless to say, I just finished baking a cake for Donnie's birthday, so that and a hat or t-shirt will have to do instead of the picture.
Before I sign off, here's my chance for a public service announcement. While we joke about farmer tans, farmers tend to have a higher incidence of skin cancer than the average individual due to the nature of their job. Although I didn't grow up on a farm, I did grow up loving tanning beds and baking on the beach. Now I am paying the price. For two years in a row, I have had a basal cell carcinoma removed from my face. It's not an enjoyable procedure, but it could have been worse. Now I wear 30 to 70 SPF regularly. I'm still out in the sun, and it's tough when you love it as much as I do. As a matter of fact, as I draft this I'm enjoying an afternoon at Burnworth Pool with Dillon. But, I'm covered in sunscreen and close to the shade (I just can't bring myself to sit right under it; it's too nice today).
I encourage everyone to do a skin self-examination, which is how I found my skin cancers. Go to the dermatologist for a check-up, too. We take care of our teeth and get regular haircuts, so why not take the same care for our skin?
So yes, I still have a farmer tan. It's just a little lighter now than it used to be. My advice - get a skin check, wear sunscreen and never, ever go near a straw bale wearing a bikini!
Kelley Sheiss and her husband, Donnie, are the proud parents of a son, Dillon, and operate a family farm in Etna Troy Township. She is the executive director of Leadership Whitley County, has an awesome sense of fashion and is probably one of the most fun people we know.