Sometimes

Sometimes, well, all the time, I worry about our children.  I think that's normal for most parents, of course.  We lie awake at night and strategize about what went wrong, what went right and what we need to do better the next day.  My husband and I often remind ourselves that our mission is to make good kiddos right now because 'it's easier to raise a good kid than to fix a broken adult'.  Amen.  This is no lie.  Cannot stress this shit enough.  

We have unique concerns about each of ours, but then sometimes I'm reminded that maybe they'll be okay (at least for the near future).  

Kiddo #1: 

He used to make such sweeping generalizations that drove us absolutely insane. 

    Everyone does it.  It's always like that.  This always happens every time.

Now I often feel as if we live with a lawyer.  

    Mom, I hate to tell you but technically, that's not correct.  Not EVERYONE actually does that.  

I secretly love it when he corrects me like this.  It gives me hope for the future.  

Kiddo #2:

We ask him questions that make him utilize his mental math skills and he struggles.  

    And then we ask him to play blackjack and suddenly he knows his mental math like a genius. 

Kiddo #3: 

She likes pink.  She has beautiful blonde hair.  When asked a hard question she tends to giggle and deflect with her good looks.  We worry about her becoming a superficial girl that uses her good looks to gain attention and not put in actual work.  

    Last week I was standing at the sink washing dishes and gazing out at the yard and pasture.  I noticed out of the corner of my eye a small blonde child bouncing down the middle of the road.  I could see that she was lugging something along but couldn't tell exactly what it was.  As she got closer and started to march through the yard I could finally tell what it was.  She had a fresh, bloody deer leg slung over her shoulder that she had found and was dragging home for the dogs to snack on.  Kind to her animals and a country kid okay with blood.  We breathed a sigh of relief.  

Kiddo #4:

    We simply worry about her.  She's the last child and at this moment is very advanced for her age in the language department.  We carry on long, full conversations with deep meaning versus simple yes/no questions.  We've made the mistake of carrying on adult conversations in front of her more than once, thinking we were in the clear only to find out hours later that she absorbed every. single. word.  Sigh. 

Pray for us and prayers that we raise good kiddos! 

One Dog, Two Dogs, No Dogs

There's some old saying about having dogs and that if you have one dog, you might have a dog, but if you have two dogs you have no dogs at all.  The gist of it being that two dogs lose all ability to think rationally and instead run away and play.  

And kids.  The same is true with kids.  

This afternoon I found them at the bottom of a hill in a corner of a field playing in these old tires that were previously used to feed silage to cattle in. 

I'm sure she thinks I was joking, but I recently asked a neighbor if I could borrow the GPS collars her husband uses with their coon dogs.  I could fashion them into a neat super-hero type belt and the kids would think they were so cool and never take them off.  Problem solved, right?  

This is a much better suggestion than my husband's.  "Well, I sure hope you don't run over one of the kids' legs so they start staying home."  In my defense, it was an accident, it was ONE TIME and Laurie still looks majestic even with three legs.  

So now I utilize all sorts of master hunter/trapper skills to find my kids each day.  I look for the dogs, as usually they are babysitting the kids.  I watch the cattle as often they are looking at the kids wondering who turned these monkeys loose and why are they swinging from the top of a trailer.  Today I found them because even though I couldn't see them the wind was out of the right direction and I could hear them talking to each other as they crawled around in the spacious old tractor tires.  

I've had Loopie longer than I've had a husband.  When she goes to heaven someday I'm going to need to visit the looney bin for quite a while.  She's pretty wonderful. 

Long story short, if you see one of my feral kiddos running loose, please wipe off their dirty faces, help Kathryn fix her windblown ponytail and send them back home.  Thanks in advance. 

One to Remember

 Is this the worst snowstorm in history for our area?  

Probably not.  Although it is one of the worst thus far in my lifetime.

Is this one something we'll remind our kids of, tell the grandbabies about someday?  

Probably so.  At least I will. 

I'll tell them about the water line that broke up by town and all the rural water was shut off in our area for one day.  The automatic water troughs froze, some of the water lines in the house froze.  We prayed for the men that dug up the line and had to fix the leak when I'm sure they couldn't even feel their fingers. 

I'll tell them about the tractor that caught fire and almost burned (because there was no water) but a pitcher of my mother in law's tea saved the day.  I'll tell them how that day seemed to last an eternity.  I'll tell them how many weeeeeeks we stayed below freezing consistently.  I'll tell them how mom's SUV was parked out in the yard and the tractors and feed pickups all were parked in the shop instead because we are real with our priorities. 

I'll tell them how tired everyone's eyes looked, even when they smiled.

But...

I'll also tell them about some of the good things.  Baking cookies, making hearty meals, playing games, snuggling and watching movies at night.  Lots of together time.  I'll remind them how fortunate we are for technology that allowed us to watch church on our computer instead of going to town.  

I'll tell them how heartwarming it was to see people share their ideas and tips with one another online for keeping calves warm or thawing pipes or chopping ice.  

I'll remind them that this was the time they learned about kidney stones.  Mostly because they heard me mutter to myself over and over 'this too shall pass.  It may pass like a kidney stone, but it will pass.' 

Many thanks to anyone, in any industry, who is required to be out in the elements during this time.  

And many thanks to those who have the common sense to stay home when their assistance is not required. 

Snow on an animal's back is actually a great thing and serves as a layer of insulation.

Animals do a great job of finding spots in brush or down in draws where wind and weather are not as severe.

Visibility was fairly compromised this morning. 
Sunshine will be oh so sweet when it finally comes one of these days. 

Corn silage that was preserved earlier this fall is a great feedstuff during winter days.

You don't have to ask twice for the calves to line up at the bunk today.

There's always that one a**hole that slips out of the pen and is on the wrong side.

Why Is This A Big Deal?

As I scanned social media this morning I saw countless posts from my friends in agriculture that reminded everyone how terrible the weather currently is, how taxing it was for those in agriculture and occasionally they added the popular hashtags #thankafarmer or #thankarancher.

But perhaps we should dive deeper and explain to those not involved in agriculture WHY this brutal cold weather is such a headache for us all.  

I have a sweet friend that lives in town and she feels comfortable asking me the most basic questions about agriculture, which is sometimes what we all need to get back to.  

WHY is this brutal cold so awful for those caring for livestock?  Everyone just drives around in feed pickups all day, right? 

This came from the friend that often mentions how she likes to look at the cows (meaning cattle) in the field at the edge of our town.  But it's a pasture... and they are bison. 

But I digress.  And her question was completely valid and started some great conversation.  

***

On days brutal cold days when the snow and wind blows people would most like to stay in the house and relax; however, these are often the days when ranchers are allowed to relax the very least.  Caring for animals comes before anything else, period.  (Or periodT.  Isn't that how the cool kids say it these days?) 

Normal, daily chores must still happen like providing feed, checking the head count to make sure everything is accounted for, finding the few stray head, evaluating herd health and administering the appropriate medicines in judicious amounts... the list goes on and on.  Even these normal tasks require 'extra'.  Extra feed, extra attention, extra bedding, extra everything.  Nothing wants to move easily, so opening a gate with a layer of ice securing everything in place takes quite a bit of extra 'oomph'. 

On top of that, ensuring water sources are readily available and not totally frozen is a constant effort.  Ranchers carry axes/rock bars,/sledge hammers/weapon of choice in order to bust through the ice multiple times a day.  Often times during light freezes cattle can paw at the ice and provide themselves with fresh water.  When the temperatures are not forecasted to rise above freezing for nearly two weeks that is no longer an option.  

Sometimes the water source is a tank or trough, and even these still require attention as they still have the ability to freeze in this weather.  They may still need ice chopped and removed multiple times a day.  The parts on these water tanks can crack or bust, as can nearly anything in this extreme cold.  This weather can result in extra mechanical issues as the feed pickups, tractors and feed wagons bounce across the hardened, sharpened, sometimes icy, ground.  

Some operations are also calving this time of year.  (And this is when I thank God that we have a few more weeks before we're due to start.)  This simply adds another layer of difficulty to an already long to-do list.  Although God made these outdoor animals hardy and tough enough to survive many circumstances we also feel there is no need for suffering.  And so folks are constantly checking their livestock for signs of active labor.  Pacing, raised tailhead, bagging up (filling of the udder) - the females have their telltale signs if you know what you're looking for.  Just in case we have an early calf I made sure we're prepared with our powdered colostrum, bottles and old bath towels.  Old bath towels are a treasured item in our house.  

Is this an exhaustive list?  Absolutely not.  Is this an exhausting list?  Absolutely yes.  And I understand that there probably isn't an occupation that does not suck during this extreme winter weather.  Linemen, oilfield workers, plumbers, the list goes on and on.  I just hope that when someone posts online to #thankafarmer or #thankarancher that they also take the time to explain why livestock producers are doing what they do.  

....and it is a bit more work than just driving around in feed pickups.  

The Long Game

It's that time of year again; the time when our alarm goes off at 5:30 each morning and our heads hit the pillow absolutely exhausted at 10 each night.

It's the time of year when I cook as much as possible on the grill so I don't have to turn on the oven and heat up the house because we refuse to turn on the air conditioner just yet.

It's the time of year when the boys wake up at 5:45 and barrel down the stairs for the day.  They see the sun shining through their window and know that they need to get in gear.

It's the time of year to pick cherries and then enjoy the fruits of your labor.  Literally.  (One of the few times literally has actually been used correctly.)

It's the time of year that we don't see much of my husband and I'm a single parent 90% of the time.  This is getting better as the kids get older but it's still me the majority of the time.

It's the time of year when we do get an occasional evening to see Wesley and spend some time as a family fishing together.

It's the time of year when we spend lots of time in the garden and flower beds and I try to incorporate science and life lessons in here and there.

It's a very fulfilling life, a very tough life and hopefully one day a very rewarding life.  When things get too hard sometimes Wesley and I will sit at the supper table long after the dishes have been put away and make sure we are still on the same page with our goals.  We make sure that 'not raising little assholes' is at the top of our list, followed by a bevy of other things.  We try to find the balance between providing a nice life for the kiddos and creating little monsters that don't understand what work is.  We want them to realize food doesn't just come from a grocery store, money doesn't grow on trees and hard work is worth it.  I don't know that we always get that balance correct, but I hope the majority of the time this is the case.

I appreciate so many things about these kiddos.

I love that they enjoy simple things in life.  We went on vacation and the thing they enjoyed the most was paddle boating as a family on the lake each morning, not the flashing lights and hoopla found everywhere else.

I love that they enjoy hard work.  They LIVE to work calves and help me in the wood shop.  Kenyon jumped in the alleyway to push baby calves one day, got kicked several times and was so proud to show me the bruises from his hard work.

I love that they are content to play for hours outside.  They can make their own entertainment without screen time.

I love that they enjoy grocery shopping with me and are starting to understand coupons and sales, or at least understand that they are of major importance to our family.  This has lead to several conversations about price as well as value.

I love the big picture, hard questions that Kenyon is starting to ask.... most of the time.  Sometimes I find myself tiptoeing as delicately as possible.  Still answering the question but in a roundabout way.  Not much gets by him and therefore he's got THOUSANDS of questions that need answered.  Every. Single. Day.

I read a quote once that really stuck with me.  If you raise your kids then one day you'll be able to enjoy and spoil your grandkids.  If you spoil your children you'll end up raising your grandkids.  This part of our lives is absolutely exhausting, but we keep this quote in the forefront of our minds and tell ourselves that someday it will all be worth it.  Not saying it's a guarantee, but at least we're trying to build a strong foundation for the long haul.

Scattered Debris, Scattered Thoughts

A tornado ripped through a neighboring town just a few nights ago.  Imagine the heartache, loss, time, effort, sweat, tears and rebuilding that comes after a tornado.

Now imagine if this was the second tornado to hit a town in less than two years.

I feel like the town was just getting back to 'normal', whatever that may be, and you could drive down most streets without being able to tell where obvious damage had occurred on July 7, 2016.  Now I can honestly say that you can drive down most streets and not tell where damage occurred two years ago... mostly because the area was either hit again by the most recent tornado, or because the neighboring damage is so severe.  (It is a pitiful attempt at humor, I realize.  But if you don't laugh at the little things you cry.)

I don't mean to speak on behalf of anyone that actually rode out the storm or the countless volunteers that have spent many, many more hours than I in the devastation; I just wanted to put my thoughts to paper.

***

When you speak to someone about the tornado and resulting devastation, oftentimes they will look into the distance I've found.  Their eyes might dart around as they rescan the area in their imagination and try to take in the enormity of what they saw.

I was on a clean up crew next to an old man.  He had a cane in one hand and a rake in the other and could not, would not, be deterred.  That is the love and servant's heart he had.  He felt he HAD to work and help clean up.

We would walk up to a house/garage/yard and the enormity of the cleanup task at hand would seem too daunting.  Just a few hours later we would walk away and only a concrete slab would be left.  It is true that many hands make light work.  The crew I was with only had shovels and wheel barrows.  Some of the crews on blocks next to us had skid steers and you can only imagine the large scale dent they were able to make.  They would clear away collapsed porches and garages and huge trees with root balls much greater than 10 feet in diameter.

I made friends with a man on our clean up crew.  He drove a 1960's station wagon from two hours away to help.  He packed extra clothes and had a cooler in the back filled with Gatorade and enough for him to enjoy three beers every night.  There was a sticker in his side window that said, "My kid sells term papers to your Honor Student."  He was hilarious and helped lighten everyone's mood.

About every 15 minutes it seemed, volunteers would drive by on four wheelers and UTV's.  They had coolers strapped on the back and made sure everyone stayed hydrated with water and Gatorade.  One even had a pallet of cheezit boxes and passed them out as snacks to each team.

Hardware stores from near and far have donated supplies and teams of people to come help.

Meals are being fed to anyone involved with the tornado, be it that you are a victim or volunteer or electrical lineman.  If you come, they will feed you.  They remind me of Jesus feeding the masses.  The hungry masses file through the door and somehow, the food just keeps coming.  I watched barbecue trucks pull up and noticed that their tags were from western Kansas.  That means they drove HOURS just to help out.  Restaurants from neighboring towns have shown up with hundreds of meals at a time.  Church ladies from neighboring towns have shown up with pan after pan of stick-to-your-ribs goodies.  4-H members from the area have contributed with food and serving meals.

Yesterday as I was eating my lunch, a friend manning the kitchen walked up to me, her eyes popping out of her head.  "You won't believe this.  There is a truck on it's way here with 10,000 pounds of smoked brisket."  TEN. THOUSAND. POUNDS.  You read that right.

I sat and ate my lunch at a table by myself one day.  It gave me time to look around and really take in the enormity of it all.  I glanced to my right and watched an old, old man who volunteered on the team I was on.  He had just worked five hours picking up debris in 100 degree heat.  Sweat was dripping off his forehead as bowed his head and prayed over the meal that was about to nourish his body.  The meal that had been prepared with love by someone who donated it from the goodness of their heart.  With tears in my eyes I pulled by gaze from him and looked straight ahead at the table not four feet in front of me.  There was a mother with two small children on her lap.  It was obvious that she was not a volunteer but a victim of this terrible storm.  She finished her meal and stood up to leave.  With a huge smile and tears in her eyes she told her fellow diners, "Thanks for listening to my story."  There was no holding back tears after I heard that.

Time and time again during the past few days while working with 'professional volunteers' (the disaster recovery teams that travel the country helping in devastated areas) they said that they had never seen a response quite like this.  They were amazed by the amount of local volunteers, and especially in the amount of large equipment that volunteers brought with them - skid steers, dump trucks, backhoes.

The cowboys came.

The shaved heads with multicolored mohawks came.

The Mennonites came.

The tattoos over 80% of their bodies came.

The good ol' boys with long hair and a beer in their hand came.

The mamas with babies on their hips came.

The youth pastors came.

The teams upon teams of volunteers affiliated with many disaster relief associations from across the country came.

Everyone has come and everyone has helped in their own special way.  It may not be my hometown that was devastated, but this is still part of my home.  Thank you is not enough, but thank you is all we have.

One yard cleaned, so many to go.

The first morning after the tornado I began to make biscuits to feed volunteers.  The boys were so excited to help in their own little way.  Those biscuits were made with love, I assure you. 

Just Keep Swimming

There's a To-Do list a mile long sitting on the desk next to my computer; glaring at me while I type this.

The baby woke up often last night with teething troubles; the toddler had a bad dream.

My husband was out the door an hour before the sunrise - it's shipping season and he's crabby from working such long, hot days.

He's trying to ship a few pastures that are incredibly muddy and even had to take a tractor along just to get the loading chute set.

I made the mistake of reading the news on my phone while soothing the baby at 3am and then I couldn't shut my mind off for several hours following.

The boys didn't get to bed until a few hours after their bedtimes because we were in Grandma's basement during the worst of the storm.

A tornado came through the area last night during all the big storms and it sounds like a neighbor's place got wiped out.  They have two sweet girls that are each only three months older than our two boys.



Life just seems a bit much right now for everyone, everywhere you look.  But...



The sun still came up this morning.  It wasn't a spectacular sunrise, not by a long shot.  It wouldn't even crack my Top 10 list.  But God gave us another day and another sunrise nonetheless.

That To-Do list will eventually disappear, one chore at a time.

Yes, both boys are awake at an incredibly early hour, but they are playing and laughing behind me on the living room floor.

Thank God we have cattle to ship, and cattle that will weigh up well.

Shipping in mid-July when it is wet is an unusual problem to have, and certainly one you feel guilty complaining about.

I will have fresh cookies made to help placate the men when they get back from their long, muddy morning of shipping.

We keep praying and trying to raise good kids that will make it on the news for helping instead of hurting and causing so much strife in the world.

I'm glad I stock up and hoard diapers in the closet.  I have every size and will take them to the neighbors as soon as I learn what they need.



Even though there's quite a bit of negative in the world and sometimes I can easily get overwhelmed, it is nice to sit down and list out all the good as well.  This may feel like the most Mondayist-Friday ever, but we're ready for it.  The coffee pot is full (for the second time), the sun is up and we're ready for the day.  We're ready to just keep swimming along.

We hope you can find some great in your day as well.

Saving the Best for Last

Sorry for the delay in posts.  It's been one of those weeks around here.  Not necessarily bad, nothing overwhelmingly good.... just busy.

Kenyon is rather fanatical about praying each and every time he sits in his high chair.  He keeps both his parents in line and makes sure we don't miss a chance to pray.  Really, I think more of us could learn from him.

Last night was no different when we finally sat down to eat together as a family at 8 pm.

"Mom, can I pray to God?"  (My heart always melts when he says this.  And it is always EXACTLY like this.)  I nodded that he could proceed.

He dutifully bowed his head, folded his hands and said, "Dear God, I like Mom.  And Dad.  And bubbles.  AMEN!"  He made sure to throw his hands in the air following his epic conclusion.

Amen, kid.