There Goes the Neighborhood

Imagine being a good farm wife and having a perfect little tidy farmhouse in the middle of nowhere and enjoying quiet evenings with cattle bawling and occasionally the hum of a tractor working ground in the distance.  

Then imagine a couple, her grandson and new wife, building a house just down the road and upending everything.  Great grandchild after great grandchild after great grandchild after great grandchild being born and learning to adjust over the years to a steady stream of curious, filthy and often hungry neighbors landing on your porch any time between sunrise and sunset.  

I will miss the way morning chores that should have taken 30 minutes turned into hours as 'Can we just stop by Grandma Curry's?' each day.  I will miss the phone calls each evening 'Well, what do you know, dear?' .

I will miss some of those ridiculous things that once made me want to tear my hair out, like when she taught Kathryn that bonks and scrapes on her body would feel better if you rubbed Suave's wild cherry blossom scented lotion on them.  Kathryn would come inside from playing and absolutely REEK of the wild cherry blossom scent.  'Momma, I got a little bonk.  But it's okay because Grandma Curry put some medicine on it.' 

I will miss how each time I made cookies, or cheesy biscuits, or a host of other things the kids would fight over who got to carry the container over and who got to knock on the door and who got to actually hand the container to her.  Like mobsters, we felt obligated to give a cut of our sweets as tribute to our elders.  

I will miss her quizzing the kids about their livestock and listening to them answer her like the little 70 year old men that they are.  

I will miss dragging her out of the house and taking drives on backroads, listening to the stories of who used to live at each old homestead and who that person married and just how good of a basketball player their son was. 

I will miss hearing the same old stories that I've heard hundreds of times.  Thankfully I can almost recite most of them from memory at this point.  Ask me about the time Stanley had a procedure done and the doctor told him to take it easy so he went out on the dozer to do some dirt work and didn't come home until after dark.  Do it, I dare ya'.  I'll tell it to you just like I was there, because I've lived similar stories right alongside her, just 60 years apart.  I couldn't hardly tell her a story about my husband without watching her throw her hands up in the air and roll her eyes stating 'oh, yes, I know all about that.  Stanley used to be just like that, dear'. 

I now tear up each time I open the refrigerator and a cascade of these damn juice boxes she had delivered from the senior center come tumbling out.  I don't know what she really ate from those senior center meals because she was always calling to warn me 'I just sent home a little something with the kids, dear'.

I won't try to flatter myself and say we were best friends; she had a lady or two in town and they truly were joined at the hip most of their lives.  But I will miss my battle buddy, my comrade-in-arms, my confidant for over a decade that knew the sheer hell it can be at times to love a stubborn ass Curry man.  

I'm thankful our children had a home away from home and someone to dote on them when their mother didn't take their injuries or injustices seriously enough.  

And I'm most thankful we never said goodbye.  Every conversation ended with 'Well, talk to you tomorrow' or 'see you later'.  So when things were going downhill and she was leaving our house I made sure to tell her one last time we'll see you later. 

Trivial but Necessary: An Autobiography

So many of the tasks I complete these days are... less than glamorous?  Menial?  Pretty basic?  Any of these descriptions would suffice.  Let's be honest, I'm not out here curing cancer.  I'm a professional diaper changer and fire-putter-outer for my husband. 

For instance, this morning I had to drop everything and run out the door with all the kids so I could drive my SUV and lead trucks filled with cattle to their summer pasture.  It's way out in the middle of nowhere and difficult to give directions to someone in hopes that they'll end up at the right pasture.  'Turn at the tree that burned down a few years ago.'  'Go past that pasture with the pens and turn west at the next pasture with a similar set of pens.' 

You can see how things could south rather quickly.  Sometimes I actually get my own pickup and trailer.  Today was not that day. 

I'm trying to get better at finding the joy in this season of life.  Today I grabbed my camera and managed to snap a few pics.  We are very fortunate to live in this area and that is never lost on us.  

Fishing Lessons, Life Lessons

We had friends over to play a few days ago and the mother mentioned how impressed she was with our kids and the way they seemed pretty self sufficient with their chores.  Although I gave her the full disclosure that things didn't always run so smoothly, I did puff up a little bit with pride.  We have seen, and continue to see, the ill effects of standing around and constantly asking for a handout and we try very hard to make sure our kiddos *hopefully* won't be that soul sucking drain on everyone around them.  

4-H has been a wonderful addition to our family activities, as well as our church bible study group where the kids play and help out.  It is amazing how much the kids are able to absorb big picture concepts and how important it is to give their time and talents to others.  They are 'learning to fish' so to speak.  (You know.... teach a man to fish... nod in agreement, folks.)  

This year's Easter egg hunt in town meant more to them because they helped stuff some of the eggs and they are so excited to do it again next year.  They enjoyed seeing their friends open eggs to find candy and thinking that it was an egg they had stuffed just for their friend to find.  

Our latest project has been building a bench for an upcoming benefit auction.  Though the kids are too little to run a saw, they are wonderful at handing me hand tools and screws.  They are just as excited as I am to deliver this bench and pray it raises needed funds for a family.  

While building this bench last week, John (5), and I had the opportunity to cuss and discuss lots of topics.  He knows the importance of saving money and how much we value coupons in this house and was surprised when I told him all that goes out the window during a benefit auction.  He now understands that it is okay to spend a little more because all the money will help someone that we love.  We talked about making this bench and how the funds will help our buddy, Alex, who was in a terrible vehicle wreck and maybe this would help make his heart happier.  I could tell that John was absorbing some and we continued working in relative silence for the remainder of the afternoon. 

A few hours later John came in the house and asked for some cardboard to make a bird feeder.  I'm pretty sure he'd seen a demonstration during a PBS commercial about making a bird feeder with cardboard, peanut butter and birdseed a few days earlier.  

"Mom - we can make a bird feeder and then send it to Alex and the doctors can hang it up outside the window in his hospital room and he can look at the birds.  Do you think that would make his heart happy?"  

I cried.  A lot.  Big, fat, ugly tears.  99% of the time I question if we're getting anything right with this tribe but that was one time I knew God made sure he absorbed it all and had a servant's heart.  

***And here is my shameless plug.  If you are in the greater east-central Kansas area on Sunday, April 11th, please make plans to eat at the Chicken House in Olpe and participate in the benefit auction at 1 p.m.  Thank you***