Est. whenever · Reimagined 2026 · Somewhere in Iowa
Corn. Beans. Cattle. Pure imagination.
Iowa’s most extravagant farm, run by one man in one straw hat with one piece of hay that has never, in recorded history, left his mouth.
01 / The Proprietor
Chief Imagination Officer. Keeper of the Hat. Ben runs the farm the way every Iowa farm is run: up before dawn, checking the weather, worrying about soybean prices, and then descending a spiral brass staircase into a glass cathedral full of glowing corn.
Current hay status: in mouth
02 / The Tour
From the road it looks like any other farm. That is the first lie. Please stay with your assigned hoe at all times and do not lick anything.
Thirty-foot sweet corn under a glass dome. When it gets warm enough in July, it starts snowing popcorn. Yield per acre is classified. Ben will only say “a lot.”
House rule: Do not shake the stalks. We lost a kid from Ames to the popcorn drifts in ’24. He’s fine. He’s buttery now.
Every soybean on the farm passes through these pneumatic tubes at least once, for no reason. The machine in the back makes an Everlasting Edamame. It has been running since March. Nobody knows how to turn it off.
House rule: Do not ride the tubes. The tubes are for beans.
Two hundred and twelve Angus, each on a personalized wellness plan. Daily brushing, weekly massage, cucumber slices on request. They have never once been stressed. Their cholesterol is better than yours.
House rule: Indoor voices. Gerald is meditating.
It harvests. It goes sideways. It goes slantways and longways and backways. It goes up. The FAA has sent four letters. Ben keeps them in the cab as napkins.
House rule: Do not press the button that says “Up and Out.” Ben will press it for you.
03 / The Crew
Ben doesn’t hire help. Ben has hoes. Forty-eight of them, hand-forged, each with a yellow ribbon and a name, and every one of them walks the rows on its own from dawn until the fireflies come out. Nobody has ever seen them sleep. They lean.
Hoe of the day
Today’s featured hoe…
Every hoe on the farm has a name, a specialty, and a story.
04 / The Contest
Somewhere in this row, one ear is solid gold. Peel it and you win an all-access tour of the farm, a lifetime supply of sweet corn, and one (1) piece of Ben’s hay. Prizes are imaginary. Nothing is collected. You can play forever.
Husks left to peel: 3
Golden Cob · Admit One
Present this cob at the red barn at dawn. Wear boots. Bring sunscreen. Do not touch the corn syrup river, it is hotter than it looks. Your hoe will meet you at the gate. It will be the one hopping.
Signed, Farmer Ben (hay in mouth)
05 / The Almanac
Brought to you by the weathervane on the north silo, which is also a hoe named Deb.
Sunny, high of 84, with a 70% chance of popcorn.
06 / Visiting
No. It is 180°F and extremely sticky. Several hoes will hop over and form a very judgmental circle around you.
It is replaced, never removed. Ben swaps hay the way a relay runner swaps a baton: at full speed and without looking.
Because Ben has 48 hoes and he loves every one of them. It is a hoe farm, in the sense that it is extremely well-weeded. We will not be taking further questions.
Ben and the hoes. That’s the whole staff. The hoes don’t take breaks, don’t need dental, and have never once asked for a raise.
Belts are for people who have given up on joy.
No. Nothing on this site is for sale and nothing you click goes anywhere. The cows are not for sale anyway. Gerald would never forgive us.
The straw hat and the hay are real. The flying combine is, for now, aspirational.
07 / No jokes here
Everything above is a bit, made by a friend, with Ben’s blessing. Ben Schuh is a real artist working out of downtown Des Moines in murals, acrylic, oil, watercolor, fiber, leather and sculpture. If you like a man in a hat, you’ll like his work.
Go to BenSchuh.com ↗Also by the same friend: BenShoe.com