I arrived in Seminole after a long drive from Dallas along a dark, two-lane highway in the rain. I'd been warned all along that if it rained, there would be no harvest—and though I'd been planning the trip for months, I couldn't predict the weather. I stopped to get some rest, and hoped for the best.

When I woke in the morning, the weather was overcast. I figured that in this profession, you take what you can get, and I started the car. It was harvest time.

I met Jimbo Grissom in his driveway. We immediately jumped in his truck—there was a break in the clouds and there was no time to waste. We headed to his "office," a vast span of peanut fields about 30 miles away. Grissom likes to say that everywhere else people talk in minutes, but in Texas, they talk in miles.

When we arrived, there were a few combines running. We pulled up alongside some freshly dug peanut vines, and I noticed Grissom's eyes were glistening.

He excitedly pulled up the peanuts while I shot pictures, cracking the peanut shells and eating the nuts fresh out of the ground.

Exposing my ignorance, I started to grab the peanuts, too, and eating them as if I were at a bar. To my great surprise—these were not bar peanuts.

They were raw peanuts, and they tasted like it. As Grissom nicely put it, they taste a little more "green" than I'm used to. I'd have several more throughout our trip, and now one month removed, I don't miss them!

We walked along a gravel road that bordered Grissom's property, where he told me about his background in the business. Along with his father and one of his brothers, Grissom manages the peanut operation with four full-time hands. During the annual harvest, he hires about 20 seasonal employees.

In addition to being a peanut grower, he runs an irrigation business with his brother and son-in-law. Looking out onto the pivots, Grissom started to talk about what's involved in growing peanuts.

It was then that I learned we were dealing with what I like to call a "diva" crop. Peanuts are very high-maintenance, especially during the harvest when timing is critical.

Grissom explained that prior to the harvest, peanuts require a lot of water to ensure they mature properly. In most parts of the country, that will come in the form of rainfall. But in West Texas, where the annual rainfall is well below the national average, peanut producers depend on irrigation systems.

It's a sore spot for Grissom, who told me that while they have access to a good source of water below ground, the state continues to get closer and closer to regulating the water supply—a move Grissom believes will devastate the industry.

Once the peanuts mature and are ready to be harvested, usually around late September or early October, it's important to dig and collect them quickly so they are not exposed to the elements for a long period of time. Excess moisture and humidity can lead to things like disease and pest infestation.

When I asked why you can't harvest in the rain, Grissom explained that rain makes it difficult to separate the peanut from the vine. Once they're dug, it takes roughly eight days for the peanuts to dry. If it rains within that eight-day period, the peanuts need be "fluffed" so they're able to dry out and be properly harvested.

If the weather doesn't cooperate, the harvest can be a time consuming process. Fluffing, for instance, adds time to the harvest—and to a farmer, time equals money. And while fluffing requires short-term adjustments, peanuts require quite a bit of long-term planning as well.

Amidst the current harvest, there's work to be done in preparation for next year's harvest, too. In addition to the combines I saw running, there were others who were busy planting and maintaining the cover crop. It's necessary to keep the soil intact and fertile until the peanuts are planted in the spring. Grissom himself plants winter wheat as a cover crop, while others choose to plant rye.

Along the same lines, Grissom noted that with peanuts, rotation is very important. Once a field is planted, it is best to wait three years, preferably four, before the field is planted again. This helps ensure the soil has had a chance to fully replenish itself.

He reiterated that consistency is key, and it's not easy.

"Between planting the peanuts, and harvesting them, it's not like we're sitting out here watching water boil," he laughed. "This is a year-round job, and there is a lot of hard work that goes into making a peanut crop a successful crop."

The most amazing part about that statement is that even if it's deemed a successful crop, it does not guarantee a successful year.

In fact, peanuts, especially those grown in West Texas, are coming off of a rather difficult year. With last year's bumper crop in the Southeast, and the infamous salmonella outbreak earlier this year—successful might be a tad optimistic.

A success just to survive, I suppose. I asked Grissom why, given the risks associated with the job, he's stayed in it so long.

He shook his head.

"It's not like you can just sell your land and get out of the business. If you have a year like this past year, you can easily burn through seven, eight years of equity," and then Grissom summed it up by saying, "Sam, if I wanted to leave now, let's just say I'd be finding another job."

Point taken, yet despite the dire context of the conversation, Grissom was still able to maintain a level of well-deserved pride about his chosen profession. It's the type of pride that comes with knowing that what you're doing is vital to the well being of this country.

We moved beyond the fields to the closest buying point—the location at which the peanuts are stored and graded prior to their arrival at a shelling facility.

Grissom showed me around the buying point, and sure enough, one of his very own trucks was delivering a load of freshly harvested peanuts. We ventured into the storage warehouse where I discovered a mountain of peanuts about as tempting as a pile of leaves to a 4-year-old.

We finished our day with a tour of a shelling facility, Birdsong, whose clients include Jif, Smuckers, Mars and others. There, the peanuts are shelled and separated for distribution.

Later that night, I thought about the takeaways from my first harvest. I certainly learned a lot about the processes involved in harvesting peanuts. But more importantly, I realized that like most Americans, I've taken peanuts for granted.

I can assure you the next time I make a peanut butter sandwich, or bite into a Reece's Peanut Butter Cup; I'll have a much greater appreciation for the product than its taste alone.

More: Harvest Series Featuring Wheat

More: Harvest Series Featuring Sugarbeets

More: Harvest Series Featuring Cotton