The music was cranked up, colorful lights were glowing beneath the hay wagon, and somewhere among the laughter, my four year old granddaughter Emery had convinced her little sister Autumn and cousin Isla that they should all be roaring like lions.
And roar they did!
Meanwhile, the adults were singing, laughing, and even doing a little dancing in their seats as we bounced along behind my dad's beloved John Deere 2510 tractor. It was another magical evening on the family farm, and I couldn't help but smile. Here we were, several generations gathered together, having the time of our lives doing something that never seems to get old.
Our annual family hayride has become one of my favorite traditions, and this year was no exception. Although, for a while, I wasn't sure how much of the celebration we'd actually get to enjoy.
My daughter Hannah, her boyfriend Lorenzo, and I had committed to working a festival with our mobile beverage business, Stay Dirty Italian Soda Co., on the very same day as our family gathering. We knew we'd miss some of the festivities, including pumpkin decorating, bags, fall drinks and cocktails, and even our traditional dinner prayer. But there was one thing we weren't willing to miss.
The hayride!
Thankfully, we finished our event and made it to the farm with enough time to enjoy a quick dinner and visit with everyone before climbing aboard the wagon. Hannah even brought along the ingredients to make one of our fall favorites, the Apple Bottom, for the family to try. It was such fun watching everyone enjoy a drink we'd created for our business. After spending the day making beverages for customers, there was something especially sweet about sharing one with the people we love.
As always, my brother Jeff and his wife Dee had gone above and beyond preparing for the gathering. They'd spent countless hours getting everything ready, making the farm look festive and welcoming. Everyone contributed dishes to pass and desserts, and there were plenty of glow sticks and light up necklaces to go around.
But the real star of the evening, at least in my eyes, was Chuck's Party Wagon.
If you've been following my blog, you may remember that the wagon was named in honor of my dad in 2018. It's his prized hay wagon, pulled by his beloved John Deere 2510 tractor. Over the years, my brother Jeff and son Andrew have transformed it into quite the party wagon, complete with seating, lights, music, and plenty of room for family fun.
This year, Jeff added another special touch. He installed additional lights beneath the wagon that rotated through different colors, creating a festive glow as we traveled through the dark fields. Combined with the string lights already decorating the wagon, it was quite the sight.
I love watching Jeff behind the wheel of that tractor. You can tell how much he enjoys every minute of it. And right there beside him, perched on the fender, is Dee, his trusty copilot. Together, they lead our little family parade through the fields, carrying on something that connects us so beautifully to our past.
There's something about seeing my brother driving Dad's tractor that touches my heart. I can't help but think how much Dad would have loved seeing his family gathered on that wagon, laughing, singing, and making memories together. His tractor and wagon are still doing what they've always done best, bringing people together.
Once everyone was aboard, the music started, and so did the fun.
One song that's become a tradition is Pitbull's "Fireball." And, of course, there are usually tiny bottles of Fireball involved for a little celebratory toast. We play all kinds of music throughout the ride, but one particularly sweet moment came when "Sweet Caroline" started playing.
We have our very own sweet Caroline, my two year old great niece, and naturally, the entire wagon joined in singing to her. I don't know if she fully understood why everyone was singing her song, but it was one of those moments that made me smile from ear to ear.
Then there was Emery, who apparently decided our hayride needed a few lions. Before long, she had Autumn and Isla roaring along with her. Between the singing adults, roaring children, glowing necklaces, and colorful lights, we were quite the traveling celebration.
And I wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere else.
At some point during the evening, Jeff shared a conversation he'd had with my son Andrew and nephew Garrett. He'd been telling them how much he loved seeing the little ones enjoy the hayride and how special it was watching their excitement.
Their response?
They told him they'd never be too old for the annual family hayride.
When Jeff shared that with me, I couldn't have agreed more.
"Neither will I!"
And I meant every word.
There's something so wonderful about that sentiment. We spend so much of our lives growing up, taking on responsibilities, building careers, raising families, and doing all the things adulthood asks of us. Somewhere along the way, it's easy to forget that we're still allowed to play.
We're still allowed to be silly, sing at the top of our lungs, dance when the music moves us, and find joy in the simplest things.
After the hayride, the fun continued around the bonfire. And if you know our family, you know we don't do small bonfires. Jeff, Greg and Andrew build the kind that lights up the night sky and can be enjoyed from a very comfortable distance! Thankfully, there's also a smaller fire nearby for roasting marshmallows and making s'mores.
The guys even managed to squeeze in a football game in the dark, and from the looks of them afterward, they'd given it everything they had. They were exhausted, happy, and probably ready to sit down for a while.
Meanwhile, some of the younger children had discovered their own version of entertainment. Jeff had a pile of limestone he hadn't gotten around to spreading, and apparently, to a group of little kids, that looked like the perfect playground.
They were having a wonderful time climbing and playing on it, and by the time they were finished, they had limestone all over themselves.
Who needs fancy toys when there's a pile of limestone?
As I watched everyone enjoying the evening in their own way, I realized something. The little ones weren't the only ones having fun. The adults were right there with them, laughing, playing, singing, and creating memories of their own.
And maybe that's one of the greatest gifts we can give the next generation.
We can show them that joy doesn't have an expiration date.
That growing older doesn't mean we have to stop having fun. That traditions aren't simply things we do because we've always done them, but opportunities to reconnect with the people we love and the parts of ourselves that still delight in life's simple pleasures.
I hope Emery, Autumn, Isla, Caroline, and Cash, all the younger members of our family, grow up remembering these evenings. I hope they remember the music, the glowing lights, the roaring lions, the giant bonfires, and the laughter that seemed to fill every corner of the farm.
But even more, I hope they remember that the grownups were having just as much fun as they were.
I hope they grow up knowing that no matter how old they become, there will always be room in their lives for a little silliness, a little adventure, and a whole lot of laughter.
As the evening came to an end, I found myself feeling grateful that despite our busy day, we'd made it to the farm. We may have missed the pumpkin decorating and some of the earlier festivities, but we hadn't missed the magic.
And I thought again about Andrew and Garrett's words. They may be grown men now, but they haven't outgrown the joy of climbing aboard that wagon. Neither has Jeff, who lovingly prepares it each year. And neither have I.
I hope there are many more years of watching Jeff and Dee lead the way, hearing that John Deere rumble through the fields, singing along to familiar songs, and watching another generation discover the magic of Chuck's Party Wagon.
Because no matter how many birthdays we celebrate or how many candles appear on our cakes, some things are simply too wonderful to outgrow. And as far as I'm concerned, we're never too old for a hayride.
xo, Sheryl
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