Continuing the morph, I had two great uncles that were dairy farmers in northern Wisconsin. We visited them when I was young and it was always a treat to go to the farm. They had 120 acres and around 100 head of cattle. Later, I learned what a hard, physical life that was. You have all the work and worry of growing, harvesting, and storing crops that most agriculture has, but then you had cows that needed to be milked twice a day, every day. Christmas eve when your kid is singing in the church Christmas program, or 4:30 New Year's morning when it's well below zero and you're hungover from the previous night, you have to milk them. I was told that most "small" dairy farmers didn't trust anyone to take care of their herd, as just one dies and a month's income is gone. What really impressed me about them was that both of them could put a pin on a map where they were born, and they never in their life traveled more than 100 miles from that spot. Yet, they got the Sunday NY Times mailed to their house, it arrived the following week, and they both read it front to back over the week. They were always up on world news and were politically active independents (back in the 1950s, Wisconsin had a very active American Socialist Party and strong labor unions). In today's world, a rural, colloquial farmer would probably be rather far-right in their perspectives, but they voted both ways depending on the candidate.