Grandma's Got $4,687.50 Coming

I've never been one to avoid challenges or adventure: I've ridden elephants and rafted down rivers in Thailand, I've eaten bologna that was old enough to be green, and I even talked back to the nuns in grade school on occasion. I've wandered through El Salvador, Cambodia and Scandinavia (OK, so no real danger there), and I'm on the lookout for even more stimulation as we look ahead to vacations over the next couple of years. I draw the line, however, at agrotourism. I'd work on a cattle ranch like Billy Crystal did in "City Slickers," and I'd build houses for Habitat for Humanity, but I refuse to work on a farm, PAY to do so, and call it a vacation. Agrotourism has become the fashionable way to retreat. Honestly, it's been in all the city papers! Maverick Farms in North Carolina is a great example.
For $125 a night, back-to-nature freaks can go to North Carolina and work on a farm to their heart's content. They can shovel manure, plant and harvest crops, build greenhouses and outbuildings, and generally do everything I did for my grandmother as a kid. They can even COOK THEIR OWN FOOD and leave a donation at the end of the stay! Of course, there is the fact that they can also get paid for their effort: up to 25% of the cost can be defrayed by their hard work. Is it big business? In the state of Tennessee last year, such farms had more than 3 million visitors and added more than $17 million to the economy. This is another one of the European fads which has been exported to this country. Heck, my grandmother knew about this gig long ago.
Every summer, my mother would ship me out to the farm for two weeks, either to be rid of me or to teach me something about how hard life could be. I'm sure there was a lesson there somewhere, but all I remember was the hard work. I remember, specifically, picking corn one morning for, like, fifteen hours. At the break, I thought we were through for the day, but it was only time for BREAKFAST! My hopes for relief sank faster than an environmental tour ship in the Antarctic. I also remember my uncles, Al and John, making me do all the hateful jobs like picking cockleburrs (if you've never done it without gloves, don't ask) while they engaged in some easier pursuit. Painting the barn and milking cows by hand were also chores on the agenda, but I was so bad at both of them that I got something of a pass there.
All in all, I suspect I spent five vacations with my grandmother. Saying she let me off on Sunday, I worked six days a week at ten hours (easily) a day. At the $125 dollar rate minus my wage for working, I figure I owe her $4,687.50. I would probably try to devalue that figure because money has become inflated since the days of my youth, but it would still be a significant amount. My grandmother and I were definitely ahead of our time. It's too bad my own kids are too old to learn the lessons I got to learn.