Our county commissioner came barreling into our office this morning. When he comes in, it's kinda like when a sheriff's deputy comes in (bringing you gifts of pot lights). They probably mean very well, and I haven't done anything wrong, but I still have to do a mental checklist just to make sure.
It was a very pleasant visit. He informed me that an interview I gave several months ago was finally on the air.
Brian, the commissioner, is good friends with a man in England (don't ask for the connection, it's a long story) that hosts a weekly agriculture radio program on the BBC radio station. I'd liken him to a Larry Steckline here in Kansas... with a really cool accent. Anyhoo, Alan came to visit this summer/fall/themonthsruntogether and Brian brought him by my office. I knew that they were coming by for a 'chat,' but I had no idea that he was going to shove a little recorder device in my face. Thank goodness it wasn't on camera because when the microphone-recorder thing came out it instantly became my burning red face and chest. Apparently, this is one of my more attractive defense mechanisms, along with uncontrolled, uncomfortable giggling. You can hear that around minute 12 of the interview.
The program is only available for one week, so don't dally. Or do dally and probably be better off because of it.
Here's a link, but there are no promises that it works.
http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p0122hxt
If not, go to BBC.co.uk and search for Lincolnshire Farming, episode 30/12/2012. I begin around minute 10. If you keep listening, you can hear several other GW folks speak after me.
Enjoy!
Monday, December 31, 2012
Thursday, December 27, 2012
Christmas Recap
There's nothing really noteworthy to mention here lately, but I'm feeling a bit neglectful (is that even a word? The longer I blog the more I have a tendency to make up words.) of this blog and thought I should update everyone on our boring little life.
Christmas came and went without any major happenings. Lots of card games of pitch were played (both Wesley's side and mine), good food, good stories, good laughter, good presents. Wesley didn't get to come to my folks' on Christmas day (which really stunk. Wes not coming, not the day at my folks'.) He stayed home and chopped ice. Ah, the life we lead. I always chuckle to myself when Wesley's mother feels the need to apologize and explain to me why Wesley needs to stay home and chop ice. To which I always have to tactfully mention in my reply, "I know. I understand. This is how we grew up. This is not new, etc., etc."
The Christmas tree came down yesterday (woohoo!). We got it out of the house in the exact same manner that it went in. We got a running start at the door and didn't slow down. There is now a gigantic tree carcass in our front yard waiting for its final trip to a creek or pond's washout grave site. Never again, my friends. Never again. It was amazing how large our house seemed yesterday when I moved all our furniture back to their original locations. Even the hubs, who is oblivious to anything that happens within 100 yards of our house, took notice and commented on it.
Enough riveting news for one day. Please, everyone, collectively hold your breath until the next exciting round of adventures in Greenwood County.
Christmas came and went without any major happenings. Lots of card games of pitch were played (both Wesley's side and mine), good food, good stories, good laughter, good presents. Wesley didn't get to come to my folks' on Christmas day (which really stunk. Wes not coming, not the day at my folks'.) He stayed home and chopped ice. Ah, the life we lead. I always chuckle to myself when Wesley's mother feels the need to apologize and explain to me why Wesley needs to stay home and chop ice. To which I always have to tactfully mention in my reply, "I know. I understand. This is how we grew up. This is not new, etc., etc."
The Christmas tree came down yesterday (woohoo!). We got it out of the house in the exact same manner that it went in. We got a running start at the door and didn't slow down. There is now a gigantic tree carcass in our front yard waiting for its final trip to a creek or pond's washout grave site. Never again, my friends. Never again. It was amazing how large our house seemed yesterday when I moved all our furniture back to their original locations. Even the hubs, who is oblivious to anything that happens within 100 yards of our house, took notice and commented on it.
Enough riveting news for one day. Please, everyone, collectively hold your breath until the next exciting round of adventures in Greenwood County.
Sunday, December 16, 2012
Christmas Tree
We cut down a Christmas tree last Sunday afternoon. I'm not a big fan of real trees in the house.
Scratch that, I'm not a big fan of pasture-cut cedar trees in the house. I have a friend that lives in town and she has a lovely, real tree that she purchased from the grocery store parking lot and I think it's gorgeous. My frugal nature keeps me from purchasing one of these, however.
We have a hand-me-down artificial tree from Wesley's mother and it looks just fine, but for some reason I had a moment of weakness and told Wesley it might be fun to have a real tree this year. (Actually, it was more like I was trying to suck up just a little after the whole go-to-your-aunt's-for-Thanksgiving-and-come-home-with-free-furniture thing.)
So last Sunday afternoon we loaded up two pickups full of friends and drove around in pastures and CRP fields trying to find the perfect Christmas tree. I was totally prepared, too. I measured the designated area in our home where the beloved tree was going to be placed and I decided that we could comfortably fit a tree approximately 36" wide in our designated area. I even took a tape measurer with me to the pasture. Apparently, though, in the heat of the chase we may have gotten a bit carried away and forgotten to actually utilize the tape measurer when we were out and about.
Wanna know how big our Christmas tree is?
8 foot x 8 foot x 8 foot.
That's right, we live in a 1,000 square foot house and we have a 850 square foot tree (approximately). We had a bit of trouble with the tree tipping over when we tried to stand it up inside the house. Once, as it was falling over, I dove to grab the tree and our friend Cody dove to jerk his three year old daughter out of harm's way. We finally wedged the top against the ceiling and it helped our balance situation out tremendously. Needless to say, there is no angel or star tree-topper this year.
Not only is the top wedged against the ceiling, we placed the tree in front of our south door. We can live without using it for three weeks or so. Wesley and the other men used baling twine to tie the top, middle, and base to the door hinges and door handle for some extra security and stability. You know us, safety first.
We also had to move a dresser from its normal location and the loveseat has been temporarity moved to the middle of the living room. Minor details.
I feel like we are turning in to the Griswalds. If you hear me call Wesley, 'Sparky' please help me snap out of it.
Scratch that, I'm not a big fan of pasture-cut cedar trees in the house. I have a friend that lives in town and she has a lovely, real tree that she purchased from the grocery store parking lot and I think it's gorgeous. My frugal nature keeps me from purchasing one of these, however.
We have a hand-me-down artificial tree from Wesley's mother and it looks just fine, but for some reason I had a moment of weakness and told Wesley it might be fun to have a real tree this year. (Actually, it was more like I was trying to suck up just a little after the whole go-to-your-aunt's-for-Thanksgiving-and-come-home-with-free-furniture thing.)
So last Sunday afternoon we loaded up two pickups full of friends and drove around in pastures and CRP fields trying to find the perfect Christmas tree. I was totally prepared, too. I measured the designated area in our home where the beloved tree was going to be placed and I decided that we could comfortably fit a tree approximately 36" wide in our designated area. I even took a tape measurer with me to the pasture. Apparently, though, in the heat of the chase we may have gotten a bit carried away and forgotten to actually utilize the tape measurer when we were out and about.
Wanna know how big our Christmas tree is?
8 foot x 8 foot x 8 foot.
That's right, we live in a 1,000 square foot house and we have a 850 square foot tree (approximately). We had a bit of trouble with the tree tipping over when we tried to stand it up inside the house. Once, as it was falling over, I dove to grab the tree and our friend Cody dove to jerk his three year old daughter out of harm's way. We finally wedged the top against the ceiling and it helped our balance situation out tremendously. Needless to say, there is no angel or star tree-topper this year.
Not only is the top wedged against the ceiling, we placed the tree in front of our south door. We can live without using it for three weeks or so. Wesley and the other men used baling twine to tie the top, middle, and base to the door hinges and door handle for some extra security and stability. You know us, safety first.
We also had to move a dresser from its normal location and the loveseat has been temporarity moved to the middle of the living room. Minor details.
I feel like we are turning in to the Griswalds. If you hear me call Wesley, 'Sparky' please help me snap out of it.
Monday, December 10, 2012
I wasn't lying!
Remember a few weeks ago when I stated that Wesley did not possess the ability to shut off the work-related, common sense part of his brain? I promise, I was not lying.
One night last week the girls barked up a terrible storm. I was already having a sleepless night and knew that my opening the window and hollering at them to quiet down would do little to actually change the situation. So..... I pulled the 'wife card.'
I nudged Wesley to wake him up so he could get up and yell at them. My first nudge did not succeed in rousing him, so I tried it again.
"Wes, can you get up and yell at the girls for me?" I whispered.
"WOMAN, HUSH UP! SEVEN, EIGHT, NINE."
"Honey, what are you doing? Can you get up and yell at the girls for me?"
"DAMMIT WOMAN, YOU NEED TO HUSH UP WHEN I'M COUNTING! NINE BULLS OUT - GEEZ!"
It was about that point in our 'conversation' that I realized one of us was still in a really, really deep sleep. Like I said, the man's brain just never shuts off. And for the record, there really weren't any bulls out. He checked the next morning when I relayed the story to him.
One night last week the girls barked up a terrible storm. I was already having a sleepless night and knew that my opening the window and hollering at them to quiet down would do little to actually change the situation. So..... I pulled the 'wife card.'
I nudged Wesley to wake him up so he could get up and yell at them. My first nudge did not succeed in rousing him, so I tried it again.
"Wes, can you get up and yell at the girls for me?" I whispered.
"WOMAN, HUSH UP! SEVEN, EIGHT, NINE."
"Honey, what are you doing? Can you get up and yell at the girls for me?"
"DAMMIT WOMAN, YOU NEED TO HUSH UP WHEN I'M COUNTING! NINE BULLS OUT - GEEZ!"
It was about that point in our 'conversation' that I realized one of us was still in a really, really deep sleep. Like I said, the man's brain just never shuts off. And for the record, there really weren't any bulls out. He checked the next morning when I relayed the story to him.
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