Date Nights

Not to brag, but we are pretty much world champions at date nights done... wrong.  So very wrong.  I hear folks preach that you should 'date your spouse' and while I don't disagree with that, I also know that it just won't happen much around here.  

We went to town for an actual date in February with friends.  And then there were those two tax planning meetings with our accountant in the early spring, and then we had a little fish fry this weekend with a few friends and 30 little offspring of ours.  So I think those count as dates, right?  And Sunday night we spent quality time together while we processed cattle with the two boys and my father in law.  We do have fun most of the time, even if it doesn't involve hair and makeup and real clothes.  At this point I really don't know what those are anymore.  

We're getting better at finding a quick moment here or there to spend time together.  Like when it's 9pm and neither of us have eaten supper yet and we set on the porch together, listening to the crickets and coyotes in the distance.  We joke about how some folks pay extra for that type of ambiance.  

So while we're most definitely not the post children for marriage or self care, we've figured out (for the most part) what works for us, or at least what's feasible in our world.  

Sugar and Spice and...

 

Now that the boys have gone back to school it's just the girls and I at the house.  People often fawn over the idea of two girls in the house.  Oh, you can teach them to cook and clean and you'll just have so much fun! 

Yes, they will know how to cook and clean, but so will our boys.  I'm not a huge feminist; rather, I'm a huge advocate for knowing a bit of everything to be self sustaining.  I don't do the damsel in distress bullshit and I don't have much tolerance for boys claiming ignorance in the house either (just ask my husband).  

So.... long story short.... even though there are only two girls left in our house right now, life hasn't changed much.  Most of our conversations still revolve around dinosaurs and cattle, we still enjoy wrestling, running, dirt and all things outdoors.  

I'm thankful that all the older kids are such good sports and allow Reese to continually body slam them.

It's been oh-so-hot this week while we've been taking lunch to the silo.

The girls ran up and down the hill time and again yesterday and had the best time.

This evening Kathryn ran down this same hill at a slightly higher rate of speed, tripped and busted her face open.  Her lips are now as swollen as Lisa Rinna's.  (If you don't know you must google.)

It's been so odd this year to have such a small group for our picnics. 
Not entirely sure I'm comfortable with it yet.

She loves to watch the bulldozer, just like the rest of her siblings.

No one wants an unsightly tan line, am I right?!

If You Give a Girl a Brahmer Bull

July 2021

If you give a girl a Brahmer bull, no good will come of it.  

You must realize you've given her one of God's most stubborn creatures, even if they are rather adorable with their distinctive features. 

She'll quickly learn to dig in her heels and stand her ground, stand up each time she's knocked down.  

She'll become independent and self sufficient with no time for clowns.  

Chances are she'll become rather gruff, with very little patience for fluff. 

Honestly, you'll likely alter her entire disposition by giving her such an acquisition.

Therefore it's likely someday she'll find a man not prone to coddle, stubborn as her with no time to doddle. 

The ensuing battles will be epic when they disagree but most days they'll work together in sweet harmony. 

So by all means - go ahead if you want to ruin her life, cause her blistered hands, early mornings and late nights

But please realize there are rather serious implications when giving your daughter one of God's most stubborn creations. 

So I hate to sound the alarm but realize you're causing irreparable harm.  

In short, please heed my advice before you alter the course of her life.

If you give a girl a Brahmer bull, no good will come of it.  

July 1994

Seven

Sometimes we forget he's only seven.  

He's gotten up at 5:30am multiple times this week to ship cattle.  I often ask him to babysit his three siblings while I mow, or run to the field, to deliver lab supplies or a whole host of other things.  

He has his own pocket knife to cut hay bale strings.  (I, too, thought this was a bit much when our neighbor gave their son a pocket knife at a young age, but now I totally agree with them.)  

He enjoys taking photos with a 'fancy' camera.  After a brief tutorial he was cropping and editing photos like a pro ('pro' meaning poor misguided housewife that taught him).  

One of his first female loves will undoubtedly be his heifer.  He does a good job for his size and age at handling her.  I enjoy watching their bond.  He teared up just a bit this morning when we discussed turning her out to pasture after the fair. 

He's a good role model for his siblings..... most of the time.  They enjoy going to 4-H meetings as well and are chomping at the bit to get their 4-H careers started as well. 

He is a creature enthusiast and can provide some sort of fun fact for many different creatures.  (Major shout out to the nature show Wild Kratts on PBS.) 

He's beyond excited about his projects for the fair (as am I).  I cannot tell you how many times I've openly bawled this week when he told me 'Mom, I've got it.' 

His western wear outfit melted my heart. 

There are a whole host of things that make me forget he's only seven.  Which often seems silly because so many of his friends are country kids as well and they are held to the same unusual set of expectations.  It is so terribly cliché, but I remember just yesterday when we had him.  We finally were wheeled back into our suite around 3am and the nurses helped us get settled in.  The sweet woman swaddled Kenyon, laid him into his bassinet and then smiled as she said goodbye, shut our door and headed back down to her station.  Wes and I stared at each other with terror in our eyes because neither one of us knew anything about birthin' babies. 

And here we are, seven years later.  We know quite a bit more about babies and we're all learning to roll with the punches as this oldest child grows up.  It's been quite an adventure and we're excited to see what the future has in store. 

Fields of Dreams

 

This is it.  This is life lately.  We are either in the ball fields or the hay fields.  Tonight we left the baby with a friend, the oldest went to the field to bale with Dad while the two middles and I went to play t-ball.  As soon as we were done, we rushed back to the field to help move equipment and get ready for tomorrow and then drive back to our friends' house to pick up the littlest one.  

The kids went to bed 1.5 hours late.  It is now 10:30 at night and I'm making cheese dip for my husband because he called and said it sounded good. I cannot help but oblige him after he works so hard for us.  

These are the days.  What a love/hate relationship I have with the land and the lifestyle.  I know that these days are not fun for anyone involved - kids or parents, but hopefully it makes for some wonderful kiddos that understand WHY we do WHAT we do to help feed the world.  Right now they seem to have an appreciation for agriculture and we hope that sticks with them throughout their lives.  We hope they understand why there are only fleeting glimpses of Dad right now and why Mom makes the baby take most of her naps in the carseat these days.  

In a few more weeks this will all be a memory.  But right now, we are living in all sorts of fields of dreams.  

The Sweetest Thank You

I believe thank you's are a forgotten art.  The act of acknowledging a kind act that another human has undertaken on behalf of you.

This is an odd story.  I sometimes post agriculture and nature photos on an open Facebook page where anyone in the world can see them.  I had a sweet, random request one day from a lady asking if she could please pay for my photo.  I'm no professional so I didn't feel like I could charge anything and was just delighted to share.   I sent her the original file of my photo and thought no more of it.  Following this, she and I struck up a friendship of sorts online.  She asked one day for my address.

... Isn't that how every 20/20 or Dateline episode ever starts???  'I loved your photo that I turned into a large canvas in my office.  Can I please have your address to thank you?'

But I did a quick risk assessment and decided she was rather harmless and sent her my address.  I am so very glad I did.  

This sweet lady, Miss Nancy, sent me a small canvas of my original photo.  I am continually flabbergasted every time I walk past it.  Not by the photography skills; rather, I am rendered speechless by how amazing some humans can be.  

We have several folks a year that need to borrow our dump truck to haul dirt for their yards and gardens and 90% of them are so awesome in repaying the favor with cookies, supper, garden produce, anything.  It warms our heart to help friends that are so anxious to express thanks.  I love that there is an unspoken rule about repaying favors in kind.  The barter system in our area is second to none.  

I didn't expect more than a note from this Miss Nancy.  Why would I?  I didn't have to exert my effort to provide her with my original photo.  

When a package arrived from her last week I was immediately moved to tears.  She sent me a tiny canvas of my original photo.  

Miss Nancy helped reaffirm our faith in humankind and remind us that most folks are good people.  Most folks want to give thanks for the things they have received in life.  

I know that this photo is not the best thing ever.  Not even close.  I am honored that she felt it was meaningful to her and asked to reproduce it.  I am even more touched that she sent such a thoughtful thank you gift to me that I'll keep forever. 

I know that my kids and I have not written nearly enough thank you notes to loved ones, but we a slowly but surely trying to improve this.  And the great news is that loved ones have given us unlimited opportunities.  This gift served as a wonderful reminder that we must continually give thanks.  

So tonight we received great pictures of our oldest son playing ball.  Kenyon looked through the photos and immediately asked if we could send a message to say thanks to the nice lady.  That made my heart warm.  I hope my kiddos keep remembering to give thanks for the wonderful folks in their lives.  

Video Games

An oldie but goodie from several years ago. 
This child fell off the top of a panel
and didn't have such a great landing.

Our kids get hurt a lot. 

It bears repeating:

Our kids get hurt A LOT.  

One is currently waiting on a fingernail to grow in after it was smashed by a brick (But Mom, the brick was already starting to come down when he slid his hand right in the way!), one child has a nail sliced in half from a nasty lead rope accident with his show heifer and we just got done doctoring an unenviable case of hives.  We had more concussions than I'd like to count.  Fallen off the top of trailers, top of panels, been kicked, been stepped on... staples, stitches, casts... the list is endless.  

Through all this, my husband and I buckle down and do our best to triage and treat each case and run to the appropriate medical facility if necessary.  However, we try not to get mad at our kiddos for getting themselves into a bind.  

Why?

It could be worse - they could be inside playing video games.  

We knew a kid once that was welding on a panel and managed to burn down an entire machine shop.  Equipment, tools and supplies were all destroyed.  It was rather devastating.  However, a friend stopped by one day to chat and reminded the family that things could have been worse - the kid could have been inside playing video games.  We've clung to that wisdom and repeated it endlessly over the years.

They will learn about gravity not from Mario Brothers (is that even still a thing?) but from dropping bales from a barn loft.  

They will learn about pulling weeds not from Farmville (again, sorry for the dated references but this is all I can think of) but from busting their backsides in the garden. 

And they'll learn how to run from snakes, well, from me.  That's my favorite contribution.  Running from snakes to find a long shovel and 'relocate' them (to heaven).  I whisper that last part so my husband doesn't hear me.  

We hope we're giving them a childhood full of old fashioned experiences that allows them to have stories to tell when they grow up and fills them with wisdom to help them be functional adults.  

Wisdom comes from experience.
Experience is often a result of a lack of wisdom.
-Terry Pratchett