Tiptoe Through the Turnips
Recently we hosted our annual family picnic at our farm. We always pick pumpkins and any other produce on a hayride through nearby fields after a hearty lunch of hot dogs and delicious sides. This year Vic planted turnips. Most in the guests didn’t know what they were or what they tasted like. Our dear ancestor, Lucy, could have told them. In 1890 that’s all she and her children had to eat after a killing drought and prairie fire consumed…