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Tuesday, April 28, 2015

I Needed a Minute...Do You?

It's been too long since I have blogged.
Two weeks to be exact.

But I needed a minute.
Do you ever just need a minute?

This winter and the month of March took it out of me, and it caught up with me the past two weeks.  With travel, the move, work, changes in friends' and family members' lives and a never ending to do list and involvement, I just needed to sit, be still and take a minute.

I needed a minute to call my grandma and discuss flowers.

I don't have a green thumb, she does, so she is my go to for all things flowers.
And sometimes you just need to call grandma.

I needed a minute to transfer these hens & chicks from the bungalow to our new house.  Grandma gave these to me when I graduated college and they have followed me to four different houses growing more and more with each move.

I needed a minute to come home, relax and actually read one of the 15 magazines stacked up on my coffee table.

I needed a minute to catch up on my handwritten notes that I love to send.

I needed a minute to really embrace what an honor it is to be a part of a leadership class for women that encourages them to run for political office.  And in that minute realize that I have always had two women in my life supporting me through everything I do.  Thanks to my mom and my sister who remind me to take a minute with them sometimes and embrace the moments we have together.

I needed a minute to realize that spending time with little boys can be really funny.  
Like when my husband left the house with a lawn mower and came home with a nephew, a dirty nephew.  

"Eli, why are you so dirty?" I asked.

He replied, "I don't know Aunt Katie, sometimes I play and get dirty." 

Well there you have it, that minute when you love him but hate his dirty feet in your clean kitchen.
While he enjoyed his watered down orange juice, I enjoyed my orange juice with champagne to celebrate that minute.  Then I sent him back outside....

As I took a few minutes the past couple of weeks, I noticed things I had forgotten.  And I discovered new things that I would have overlooked had I not just stopped to breath and take that minute, that moment.

This tree bloomed and then was gone a week later.  
I would have regretted not taking those minutes to stop and enjoy it. 

And by writing this and telling you, I hope I'm reminded to just take some time to slow down a bit every so often.  Those minutes always make me appreciate how blessed I am and discover new things to be thankful for.

So....do you need a minute?

Thursday, April 9, 2015

Do You Have a Cabbage Dish?

When I moved in with the farmer almost two years ago, I never would have thought he would have a candy dish.  Let alone, a cabbage candy dish.

As I was combining all of our possessions (really throwing his stuff away and adding mine), I came across 
"the cabbage".

When I first spotted the cabbage, I hated it.  I thought it was ugly and asked to throw it away.  
He proclaimed, "No!  That was Great Grandma Opal's and then Aunt Freida's".

He didn't say much after that so I sighed and tucked it away.

I recently found the cabbage again when we moved. I rolled my eyes and sat it on the counter to be packed.

It's funny sometimes the memories that flood a person's mind when they see an old piece.

When the boys were helping us move, my husband's cousin and brother both mentioned "the cabbage" and Aunt Freida and the candy in it.  

"Hey Tim," the farmer asked "what did Aunt Freida have in the candy dish?"

Tim, "Krackels, Mr. Goodbar, Milk Chocolate and Dark Chocolate."

All of the boys light up when they talk about Aunt Freida and the candy in "the cabbage" on her counter top.

So I moved her to the new house.  And she is growing on me....more and more every day.  

The history behind the cabbage makes me want to embrace it even more. 
Great Grandma Opal painted it like she did many other pieces.  When she passed, Aunt Freida got it and continued the tradition of filling it with candy.  

When Aunt Freida passed, my husband was lucky enough to get it.

The cracks and chips give her character and more meaning.  
Think about all the hands that were in "the cabbage" picking out candy when they needed a quick sugar pick-me-up or when they weren't really supposed to (guessing that's what the farmer and all the siblings and cousins did).

Now that "the cabbage" has become such a big deal in our new house, I have been thinking about the candy jar I grew up with.  Well, it wasn't a candy jar really.  It was a "munchies" jar and it was full of oreos.

Oreos were a thing growing up in our home.  They were a special treat and you HAD to have milk.  
Our dad loved oreos and he was a proponent of making sure you had the twist and a good dunk down.

He didn't really care if you made a mess. 
You can tell by this picture of my sister Sarah and our dad, caught red handed with an oreo mess and the munchies jar full of oreos ready to be devoured by their side.

Now that the "the cabbage" has made her way to my counter top, I have to laugh at how ridiculous I was when I wanted to throw it away.  But now I appreciate it more than I ever thought I would.  Every time I think of it, I thank Grandma Opal, Aunt Freida, the farmer.  Then I think of the munchie jar, messy oreos and my dad. 

So....do you have a "cabbage".
If so, appreciate it's meaning the memories it brings to your counter top and the new ones you will make.

Tuesday, April 7, 2015

The Sacrifices and Love from a Move

The move from our bungalow to our new house on the farm was a success. 
However, we still aren't fully unpacked and I forgot the silverware at the old house for a few days.
But, we are here....at home.

It seems as if I always make my way to The Brick in Jonesville, Indiana before major events in my life.  I enjoyed a greasy burger and cold diesel at the classic, American, whole-in-the wall a week before my wedding.  And last week I went there with friends the night before we moved.  

But it was needed, a Great American getaway just 25 minutes from my home.

When you hang out with country boys and ask them to help you move, you have to take "shooting breaks".  I was happy to participate and let them hang out for a bit since they were moving all my furniture on a cold, Friday night.

But it was a beautiful night at that.  And going back and forth, and back and forth behind pick-up trucks wasn't a bad Friday night at all.

However, I must have been a little "off" from moving.  

It was still pretty chilly the week we moved, but in all the chaos I somehow packed up our spare space heather.  
So I froze the last night in our bungalow.

And when will I learn my lesson about getting up before the farmer to have the hottest shower?  Never, apparently.  My last shower in the house was a cold one.  

And as I started brushing my teeth, I realized I had grabbed the wrong toothbrush.......

BUT when packing up a bin full of the farmer's old sweaters, we found this beauty.
A vintage sweatshirt from a Field Day on the farm when his dad was still alive.  The corn logo with the family name seemed to be the perfect attire for the day as we moved to another house on the family farm!

The one good thing about moving is that you find things you forgot you had.
As we unpacked all the nooks and crannies of the bungalow, I found all these lovely pink boxes.
What are they?

The wonderful and beautiful pink boxes are full of our china.  
The china that the farmer rolled his eyes about and could care less about.
It's the china that I now have room to display in a cabinet and serve my fancy appetizers and wild game on when we have guests.

So we moved on Saturday and got a dog on Sunday.  
Not only were all my processes and habits messed up in the move, now I have a dog.

For those that know me, I don't really like dogs.  
But now I have one and his name is Tank.  
He's an English Pointer and a hunting dog so at least there's that.

Moral of the story, I really love my husband.

But my husband dealt with me in the move. 

He let me take naps from my exhausting workdays and drives when I should have been packing.
He made friends with Fran at the grocery store who gave him lots of boxes for our move.

He dropped what he was doing and came every time I yelled his name from another room to help me, even if it was to review how to organize a closet he doesn't care about.  

And after the move when I called him from the house because I couldn't figure out how to unlock the door, he left the farm and drove home to help me.

Now he has a dog and a pasture to take walks in.  

And I have more room for my china and I can see my clothes in the closets better.
Oh, and I have love from the farmer and the dog.

Even in our new house, we have each other.  
Honestly, it doesn't feel much different because our stuff is here and so are we.  

However, the best part of the new house is our new backyard view.
The bungalow didn't have this.

It seems as if I can get use to sacrificing, loving and making new memories with the farmer in our new home with my new dog and my new view.