Hold Them & Show Them

With the news today and the issues in our community and country it’s no wonder that many parents go to sleep at night thinking of their children’s safety and future – some of us may even hold on too tight or too long that we don’t even make it to our own beds before we fall asleep.

However, there is a lesson to be learned from letting go and letting them learn as they navigate through this world and this life.

I attended a breakfast with one of our elected officials last year on the campaign trail while he was home from D.C.  We were talking about differences in cities and towns around the state and the vast differences in our own communities.  He said something that has stayed with me and I think of often – we built secluded neighborhoods where the houses looked similar and the families led similar lives.  We stopped living next to and learning from people who are different than ourselves therefore making us more secluded from an array of diverse people, backgrounds, issues and opinions.  

I am fully under the belief that creating deep roots for a child only helps them in developing who they are and who they will become.  However, some parents don’t let their child’s roots grow beyond a seedling that may never grow to see beyond the ground they are standing on.

Creating deep roots for a child to learn about their heritage and where they come from doesn’t need to take away their ability to grow wings, learn from someone different than themselves and flourish.  I was raised to appreciate my family’s history and hard work and to always remember where I came from when I got to where I was going.  However, I was told to learn and appreciate from others – no matter how different – while I was developing myself and working hard in my career.  

I feel very fortunate that I live in a community that exposes me to different cultures and am excited to raise my daughter in a community that embraces diversity.  While we have plans to travel with our children around the world and teach them about different cultures, we are also excited to come home to the cows and corn fields.  People think it’s crazy when I tell them we want to travel (especially with our kids) and immerse ourselves in different cultures, but we learn so much about ourselves and others when we do.  I hope you embrace where you come from but seek to learn what else is out there beyond the ground you are standing on.  

Our daughter may not want to travel and see the world like we do – she may be perfectly happy with her deep roots on the farm.  But at least she will have been given the opportunity to make that decision and understand how others think, work and live.  I would rather hold her tight while I show her the world rather than hold her tight and keep her from it.  

Send Them Outside

We were walking through the freshly painted walls that were already soaked with that poignant  smell of pigs when she learned something new about her kids and their childhood.  As my sister and I watched the sows deliver piglets at the new Fair Oaks Farms Pig Adventure a few years ago, we reminisced about adventures on our family farm and with our dad.  “Remember when dad made us scoop up the stalls after the baby pigs were born?” I said. Before my sister could even respond my mom exclaimed, “he made you do what?!”  Since his passing she has learned a few things we did with dad that she was unaware of at the time. 

Even though I might have protested at the time, I’m glad he made us clean and scoop manure and more from the stalls.  I’m glad he made us stand with the piglets while he gave them their vaccinations (that screaming still rings in my ears when I think about it).  I’m happy he walked us through the woods to show us all the creeks and hollers so we could create our own adventures when he kicked us out of the house.  I’m proud of my childhood and all the blood, sweat and tears of playing and working outside - it made me a stronger and more capable woman.

I’ve had multiple conversations lately about how kids don’t go outside enough and they are too hooked to their screens.  “When I was their age, I was outside, doing chores and working!” - that’s the standard quote these days.  As a new parent I have thought a lot about this a lot.  Mae is about to crawl and she is curious about everything around her.  I don’t hand her the toys or her pacifier, if she wants it she can get it.  When I’m in the car, I talk to her about what she is seeing through the windows and what is going on in the world around her - I am not focused on my own thoughts or phone.  I’m trying to teach her, even at a young age, that it’s not all about her and what’s on the screen isn’t as important as learning about others and discovering and improving herself.

It’s funny that we get mad at our kids and the younger generation about being lazy and selfish, but didn’t we buy their phones and create their participation trophies?  They don’t have the money to buy the phone and didn’t create the trophies - we did. 

So send the kids outside this spring.  Take away the phone and video games you bought them and tell them to use their imagination to create their own adventures. Their moaning and groaning will only last for a short while, but their character and work ethic will be impacted for a lifetime.

For the Love of the Farmer

Happy early Valentine's Day from our family to yours.  We don't really celebrate the holiday because we love and appreciate each other all year long.  However, this year Mae and I are sending a few cards and dressing up because we can and she is full of love!

Enjoy a recent article I wrote for our newspaper below and embrace your loved ones.

Time and time again I shake my head at my dirty floors and loads of laundry and then sigh.  It’s not that I feel overwhelmed with the house work or burdened by it.  My headshakes are about how my younger, detailed and tidy self would have never let this fly.  When we were first married I promised myself that we would be the farm house that was clean and put together – no cow manure on the floor, Carhartts washed at all times and a cute back porch.  Well, I got one week into that “married to a farmer” deal and realized my household goals would never be realized.

I grew up on a farm and should have known better, but my passionate and organized spirit got the best of me for awhile.  But for the love of the farm and my farmer, I gave it up.  I decided that my own fancy boots weren’t going to stay clean and that was just part of it.  And if we both had a pair of dirty boots that was more proof that we were lockstep in this path called life together. 

I recently read an article about how a woman always nagged her husband for not picking up after himself and forgetting to do things around the house.  Then one day he was gone - he had left this earth and she couldn’t nag him any longer.  As much as she hated the random socks everywhere or incomplete honey-do chores, she wasn’t going to be able to live her life with him anymore.  She made a commitment to stop nagging and worrying about the little things because they weren’t important.  Just like having dirty floors isn’t as important as the steps you take on them with the people that matter.

As we approach that February holiday of love, I hope you sacrifice something for someone else.  For the love of my farmer, I plan on overlooking that wretched smelling hat, holey socks, dirty floors and time with him so he can work the land he loves – we love.

I also hope you take a moment to realize the sacrifices farmers make for you – their time away from their families, physical tolls they endure and risks they take on multiple levels.  For the love of the farmer and the food on your table, say thank you to the next one you see at the store, church, market or ballgame.

This Valentine’s I hope I come home to mud and manure soaked Carhartts still attached to the boots on my dirty back porch.  Just like last time, I’m going to walk right past them to focus on more important things like my family and our farm.

Why Are We Going This Way?

I really should know better than to ask that question.  Growing up with a dad who was a farmer and now being married to one, you just know that sometimes you are along for the ride.  And sometimes they are the best rides.

  

We were coming home recently from the lake and he turned a different way, well a new way that I had never been.  “Why are we going this way?” I asked.  And I got the classic farmer answer, “I want to check some fields.”  “Great,” I thought, another road for me to learn in this county that I’m still getting used to.

 Much of what you learn growing up on a farm are from things you observe.  Growing up, I would patiently wait in the back seat or next to my dad in the truck.  One thing I learned pretty quickly is that he could drive on the road without actually watching the road!  It was as if he had eyes on the sides of his head as he looked out the windows to check each row of corn and soybeans growing in the fields.  When I first started to notice this, I was scared.  But then I realize that it’s just part of it, we were safe, it is just part of the farmer way of life and something they do. 

The second thing I learned was not to ask where we were going.  He was going to get us home or to our destination even if it took a little longer which I learned was okay.  We got to explore new ways of getting somewhere; we learned new things along the way about the history of our county or the family that once farmed the land.  Our parents never let us have a TV in the car and we rarely read or played games, we looked out the window at the fields or roads or towns along our drive and explored the world on a different path each time.

 The third lesson I learned from these unexpected drives was to listen.  Once you get farmers in their element or on a topic they know, you learn a lot.  I basically learned much of what I know about farming, the crops we grow, weed and pest control, the markets, the weather and the land I love by listening to my dad on these drives.  And now I’ve continued that tradition with my husband.

I’m not one to question God about the way things are going or the path he has set forth before me.  So I’m not sure why I asked the farmer because I am certain he was taking us along a path that would lead us to where we were going, we would get there safely and 

I would even learn a thing or two along the way. 

With today’s ever present questions of “why this way?” and “why that way?” about so many topics and issues, I feel pretty lucky to know why I am going a certain way and down a certain path.  And even if I don’t, I know everything will be okay when we get there.  I hope you have that confidence or luck and if not, maybe you should take a drive with a farmer.  

What Have We Done?

It's a question we ask ourselves regularly these days.

"What have we done?"

"Why did we do this?"

"What are we going to do with her?"

I guess expecting your first kid when you both have been single and independent for so long will entice these types of questions.  And it all has seemed to go by so fast but yet soooo slow at times.

I've learned you can't really prepare fully for having a kid so I guess we are ready more now than we ever will be.

We already grow grain, have planted a few trees here and there and are now ready to grow people.

I'm a tad bit worried our daughter will think we are crazy.

And she may wonder how her parents ever got married because we are so different.

I like to get dressed up and go to fancy parties while the farmer doesn't like that so much.

He would rather sit on the back porch with a beer, cigar and a good novel.

I give daily presentations to my husband, and he doesn't seem to mind.

However, one night recently we were quietly reading for a few hours and I apparently seemed to give lots of many presentations in that time frame.  When I interrupted silent time to say something, yet again, he took a deep breath and looked up from his book.

I said, "I'm sorry, what's wrong?"

He replied, "you have been talking for two hours."

I almost started crying, actually I did, because I didn't realize how much I had been interrupting and for how long.  However, he quickly interrupted my mini-pregnancy breakdown to assure me it was okay and really not to worry.

In the end, it's all about "compromise and love". 

And I think our daughter will learn that from us and we hope she does the same thing with her significant other in the future.

In prepping for baby, I have been all about making sure she has nice and fancy things but also that her family and heritage is a part of every step of this process.

My late father-in-law loved columbines.  

And my sister-in-law, made sure there were some at our family shower.

I love my roots and celebrating, so I made sure to plant a Tulip Tree on my family farm in honor of my daughter and Indiana's Bicentennial.

And I love all things fancy in the country and this diaper cake really brought that all together.

Many people have asked how I have been and if I have gone off the deep end or been more demanding than usual (not really sure why they would think this!).  My husband will honestly say that I have been pretty good through this whole process even if I hate being pregnant.  

I have been keeping a baby journal and it asked to write all the things I love about being pregnant and the things I don't like.  Let's just say the love part had 1 thing and the other side had several.......

I am a people person, so not having the energy to socialize as much has been difficult for me.

I got really upset during the Indy 500 activities and said, "I should be at this event and that thing and really should go to the race."  He looked at me and said, "that's what you used to do.  You are at a different stage of your life now.  Accept it."  My response with a few tears, "you are right...."

When we were checking cattle recently, all the cows gathered around the truck except for this cow and her calf.  She stayed away from the crowd, feeding and caring for her calf while she watched the chaos that ensued in the distance.

I realized at that moment that I am going to be that cow.  

And my husband, who would have much rather been up on that ridge alone like the cow may have to deal with the chaos more than he would like in the near future.

Everyone says that parenthood will change your life, and I have no doubts about that.

But there are some things in our life that will not change when our daughter comes, well they may change slightly.

The ambition to be active and involved in our industry, community and world.  (Don't worry, she already has a suit jacket for political fundraisers.)

The love for quiet, reading time but now it may be with baby books instead of the 

Foreign Affairs Journal and Vanity Fair.

The dreams of travel and planning trips that we will continue to take, now with our daughter.

The desire to learn something new every day but now we will have to teach her along with each other.

The passion for our work and our family farms that we hope she observes every day by our actions, 

love and hard work.

Every time my husband touches my belly to feel our daughter, she stops moving and kicking.  

I think she likes him better which is just wonderful.

But recently he felt a kick and said, "I just took a direct hit!"

I replied, "No, I did.  You just got the aftershock."

In the many years we have ahead of us in our marriage and raising our children, I know that we will be able get through it with our love and support and everything will be okay in the end.  It won't matter who takes the direct hit or expereiences the aftershock because the compromise and love will have made us stronger.

And in several years when we ask ourselves, "what have we done?", we will be able to answer confidently that we did our best to raise our children to appreciate their roots and wings, live with ambition, kindness and passion to prosper for generations to come.

Life Changes on the Farm

It's been a long and interesting few weeks.  

And it's been too long since I have written a blog.

But I've been tired, hungry, sick and boggled that my life will change drastically in a few months.  

We are expecting our first baby in July and the kid really knocked the wind out of me recently.

I've called it an alien, a weirdo and accused it of being mean to me.

But yet, I have started buying the baby cute toys and clothes.  

 Even though I am excited, it is a little scary imagining that your life will change so drastically.

No more peaceful nights of reading with my husband while we sip on cocktails. 

No more deciding to have date night last minute or whisking away to another country for our travel adventures.

Just recently, I have started to think about all the positive things I will do with our baby and children.  

I will get to sing them songs that my mom sang to us as young children.

I will get to teach them about the ground beneath their feet and our farm life that provides for others.

We will teach them about their grandfathers that are watching them from heaven above and can be seen by the moon, just as the moon can see them.

We recently watched our niece and two nephews one Sunday morning for almost two hours. 

It was nice and crazy......

Instead of a peaceful Sunday morning with french press coffee and morning political shows, we traded with animal cracker crumbs everywhere and Planet Earth with commercial entertainment compliments of the kids' wrestling matches.  

They climbed all over us, would sit still for a minute, and then change positions while kicking you along the way then would be up and on their way to the next best thing.

When they left, I was again boggled.  Not sure I wanted to do this....have children.  

But at the end of the day, they were good, entertaining and full of love and cuddles. 

The baby has been a bit nicer in the past week or so I feel more energy coming on!

I'm getting more excited which means more shopping and I'm sure that will thrill my husband.

When the time comes for our baby to arrive, I am sure our lives will get more hectic and busy.

But we will just have to push on with our sleepless nights and french press coffee.

We embrace it all and enjoy our time on the farm watching our crops and children grow.

It's a Partnership, Not a Sponsorship

I was traveling for work and play recently and was gone for almost two weeks straight.

When I departed home for my long weeks of work meetings, time with friends and many miles in the air and on the road, I left a lot of sliced peppers.  

And when I returned, the floors were clean and his laundry was done.  

It wasn't a miracle, it's part of the partnership.  

Brett likes fresh sliced peppers to snack or just eat for dinner after a long, hot day.

I hate doing his 10 loads of laundry a week and seeing cow manure in my washer.

I also like clean floors. 

We both know what each other hates and what we like, so we try help each other out a bit in our 

busy lives, and we drink plenty of cocktails along the way.

My husband has always said, 

"Marriage is a partnership, not a sponsorship."

He knows who he married so he has to say that a lot.....but it works!

In order for this partnership to work, he knows to leave his dirty, dusty clothes on the back porch.

And I have learned that they will have to enter my washer.

This partnership works because I have finally realized I may have too many clothes and try to limit my shopping excursions.  But he has learned to just compliment, take a deep breath and shake his head.

We have really learned to embrace our heritage together and that dressing up 

with your partner is better than going at it alone.

We challenge each other to try new things and step out of our comfort zone.

I never would have kayaked.....

....or owned a dog without my husband, my partner.  

My mom always tells me that we are good together because we have our own hobbies and interests, but we also have found many things we can do together like bird hunting. 

Even though this is a good "partnership" activity, somehow he tricked me by buying me a new hunting vest with pockets.  I have pockets, he doesn't which means I have to carry the birds.  

I told him if I have a new vest, I will have to buy other new hunting accessories.

He just shook his head....

As I have just returned from traveling and wrapped up a busy summer, 

he is preparing for a busy fall and harvest.  

Sometimes we have to sponsor each other at different times of the year to make the partnership work.

And as partners, we support each other through thick and thin, the clean and the dirty.

So as I plan to "sponsor" my husband during harvest by making countless sandwiches and cutting lots of peppers, I may shop a little while he is in the field.  And when I return home, I won't mind if the floors are dirty.  Our partnership depends on it!

The Stories Along the Back Roads & Dead Ends

We recently celebrated our two year wedding anniversary.

A lot has happened in two years and a lot will happen in the next two years.

Sometimes I can't get over how time flies when you are living life and creating your story.

For our anniversary we stayed in Story, Indiana at the Story Inn.

There's not much in Story, and honestly I think it really only has 2 residents--the owners of the inn.

I had been there a few times for their annual wine festival, for drinks with my once boyfriend now husband and for brunch after delivering a bull in Freetown, Indiana which isn't far from Story.

However, after staying there a few nights and spending days on the front porch of our rented house, there is a lot in Story.  There are lots of stories--ones created from the first settlers back in the early 1800s to the once thriving community that later never recovered from the Great Depression.

Today, Story seems like a paradise at a dead end along the back roads of Indiana.

Hoosiers that know the area, and other guests that have visited Story, understand that dead ends are sometimes the best places to continue your journey and your story.  Bikers, horseback riders, lovers of Indiana history, out-for-a-Sunday drive folks and those that enjoy a quiet, dead end know that Story is the place to visit.

My husband and I had finished our brunch and were wandering around the garden when he turns to me and says, "Let's go on a drive."  My immediate response was, "No, I drive all the time.  I'm sick of the road."

"No" he says, "I want to show you something."  

And that he did.

We hopped in the truck and down the gravel roads to "The Town That Was", Elkinsville, Indiana.  

I wanted to read the sign from the truck but he said, "Get out.  Just believe me."

He knows me pretty well, except that he didn't bring tissues so he must still be learning.

These families had to leave their little town so the federal government could build a reservoir 

for other families and other towns.  

I bawled.  I couldn't handle it.  

Tears were dripping down my face and he was laughing because he knew that I would love to see this and honor these people at this dead end.

I loved this memorial for the people that had to move so other families could have water and now enjoy what many of us in the area know as Lake Monroe.  But what's worse is that they actually didn't really have to move.  Someone miscalculated the elevation levels and the little town didn't need to be evacuated after all!

What I realized on this trip down another dead end road is that we are all a part of each other's story.

These people had to leave their town and so did so many others so that the reservoir could be built.  As a kid and a teenager, I went boating and swimming there and didn't even think about the families that had to leave their homes.  Even though without their stories, those memories wouldn't be a part of my story.

We headed down the road and came upon this house.  

I was staring at this once beautiful home with this fence and the open gate when I heard, "Those flowers are annuals.  Someone had to come and plant those and probably does every year." 

Again, I lost it, realizing that someone was trying to continue 

to honor the story of the residents that once lived here.

We turned down another road, and yet another dead end. 

An abandoned bridge that once connected one town to another and neighbors to neighbors.

There were stories on one side and on the other.  

And I wondered how many stories were created on that bridge too.

When I was in D.C. last week, I sat in a meeting room of the National Museum of American History discussing the new exhibit American Enterprise.  My fellow farmers and agriculture advocates were meeting with the exhibit curator about incorporating agriculture into the exhibit today and what it may look like in the next 20 years (the length of the exhibit).  I realized that my conversations were going to influence him to tell our story, the farmer and agriculture story, for generations to come just like those featured in the exhibit have influenced my life, my story.

I was also advocating for agriculture and our farm businesses and way of life while I was in D.C.

Two days later, I was at county 4-H livestock auction realizing my story, my advocating, was going to affect the kids in the arena and the way they live out their stories.

As I reflect on the past two years and appreciate all those memories and stories, I always try to remember where it all started.  It was the day when we signed on the line and committed to a lifetime of stories together while my grandma looked on, her story leading to mine and mine to the next.

And I have always known that each one of us is connected to each other through some story.

Sometimes we just need a reminder so we remember to not forget "The Town That Was" and the lives that were.

So here we are, starting our adventures down the back roads of the next two years of our story together.  While he drives us, I'll write it all down.  And I think he has learned to bring plenty of tissues along, especially to the dead ends with all the great stories.