When They Go

This farm wife and working mom has been getting used to our new schedule and evenings without her husband.  I rush all day long to get things marked off my to do list, and when I get home I just want to spend time feeding my child, reading to her and playing.  She is growing up too fast so my spare moments are spent with her, not the blog.  So the post below is my recent Farm Indiana article and hopefully when the farmer is finished with harvest I'll have a little more time to write.  

Happy Fall!

***

They go to the farm on a daily basis not ever really knowing what that day may bring.  And we as farm wives see them off never knowing when they will come home.  Farmers leave at all hours of the day and night for various reasons.  I’m currently experiencing early morning goodbyes and the late night hellos, and sometimes a repeat of the same greetings late at night when he runs to check on the grain dryer. 

Miss Mae watching harvest from our backyard.

However, sometimes when they say goodbye they don’t return.  My mom experienced that the day we lost my dad on the farm.  And I hope and pray that I never have to endure that heartache as she has.  I try to be fully bright-eyed and busy tailed when he leaves in the morning to kiss and say goodbye.  And then I try to be at home waiting his return with a smile and sometimes a hot meal. 

When we were first married, he left in the morning a few times without saying goodbye or giving me a morning kiss and I was devastated.  Let’s be honest, I was probably a little more dramatic than I needed to be but I could not start my day without that goodbye or that kiss.  In the back of my mind, I am always prepared for it to be our last.

Before the farmer goes to the farm to work the land that he loves and the animals that he cares for, he has to prepare for his day.  First up, a check of the weather—always.  Next, he makes some morning coffee and maybe some eggs if there is time because you know, there is no burning daylight so a few extra minutes of sleep might have cost him his breakfast.  And he now knows he can’t skip the last portion of his morning routine—the goodbye.

Before the farmer goes to the farm to collect dirt and cow manure that will end up in my washer, I say a prayer that he and all the farmers will be safe as they work so passionately in the early morning fog until well after sunset.  I embrace my dirty kitchen floors and loads of never ending laundry because if the floors were clean and the laundry was done, he would have only left and never come home. 

Sometimes when the farmer leaves now, it’s to take a walk with our baby girl to introduce her to the cows and watch the Indiana sunsets (and to give me a moment of peace and quiet).  And while they are gone, I pray that she learns about the goodbyes and hellos of life and that sometimes they are really hard but they make us stronger and more prepared for the next greetings.

No matter how the farmers may leave us or when God decides to take them, when they go there is always a lesson to be learned.  Dad always said, “There’s no burnin’ daylight”.  And my farmer always says, “It will be okay”.  So I guess I’ll survive the early morning goodbyes and pray for the late night hellos.  I know that he's always working through the daylight and he will be okay and come home at night well after God's paintings have faded into the dark sky to become stars.

The view from our upstairs window--golden corn and God's painting.  

(Don't judge my dirty window!)

Commit to the Clover

It’s a long standing tradition, one that has been around for over 100 years.  It’s about hard work, commitment, education, responsibility and development.  For many people it’s about “summer homework” and hot, summer days spent committed to something other than yourself culminating in a week of fun with friends you may only see once a year. 

I am sure you have grasped that I’m talking about 4-H and imagining the green clover.  It’s a long standing tradition that empowers and teaches our young people and reminds us alumni of the power in our head, heart, hands and health.

I will admit, just like most people, that I hated homework so filling out my 4-H project books wasn’t my idea of fun.  And the hot summer days really got to me especially working with the pigs.  We shaved our pigs one summer so they would look nice, and I will never, ever forget that day, what it felt like and what I looked like in the end.  And fair week, while it seemed like hell for my parents, was a mini-camp or vacation with my friends from around the county I only saw once a year with many great memories I think of often.

 One of the great things about 4-H is that it’s not just for the country kids.  It’s for all kids of all kinds to be a part of something special, something greater than themselves, which has been a part of people’s lives for three different centuries.

Sometimes I think about what would happen if more of our children experienced 4-H, and had the summer homework, the commitment needed to get through the summer day and had the lifelong friendships and network from just one week a year.  What would happen if every child of ours was able to learn, recite by heart and commit to the 4-H pledge for a lifetime? 

I pledge my head to clearer thinking,

My heart to greater loyalty,

My hands to larger service,

and my health to better living,

for my club, my community, my country, and my world.

I personally think we would be a better community, country and world.  So as we approach fair week in our community, I am recommitting myself to the 4-H pledge.  And as a 10 year 4-H alumnae, I want my daughter to experience a long-standing tradition and commit herself to positive change through her head, heart, hands and health. 

I hope you will do the same for the program, yourself, the children and our community. If you never experienced 4-H, it doesn’t mean you can’t support the program with you contributions or skills.  You can and you should, just as the alumni, encourage our young people to be a part of a tradition that will stay with them for a lifetime.  When I see the 80 and 90 year old men and women still visit the fair because of their commitment to the 4-H program and to our youth, I can only imagine the memories they have and their reasons for still showing up.  With their aging heads and hearts, their worn and callused hands and their dwindling health, they are still committed to the clover just as we all should be.

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.

Celebrating Farm Life….Every Day

It's National Agriculture Appreciation Month!
However, we celebrate and appreciate agriculture and our farm life everyday.
Below is my most recent article from Farm Indiana.
Enjoy and remember to thank a farmer this month!

***

I was asleep in bed, enjoying the quiet on one of our cold, winter mornings when I heard the door open and boots stomping mud and manure all over the floor.  I was sure he had forgotten something—his coffee, extra coat or paperwork—and my peace was disturbed.  

“Hello dear,” he proclaimed “sorry to bother but where can I find some old towels?”  I took a deep breath, “We only have one and you used it on the dog.”  “Oh,” he stated “I found a newborn calf half frozen by the barn.  The mom had twins and I have got to warm her up.  She’s in the front seat of the truck now.”  

I sat up in bed, my peace no longer a priority, and yelled, 
“Oh no!  Just take our bath towels, however many you need.”

I worried about this calf all day and constantly asked for updates which I am sure were a bit annoying to my farmer as he tended to the herd and other daily chores in the freezing, windy weather.  However, I got a picture that afternoon that helped bring the peace I had felt that morning back to life.  Our niece and nephew were holding on to the newborn calf who was standing tall and looked warm and healthy.  
They had appropriately named her Frosty.

Frosty lived through that dreadful morning and now runs around the barnyard with the kids like a pet dog.  However my friends’ calf, so thoughtfully named Baby Flowers by their young daughter, did not make it through a similar dreadful day.  She stated that her little girl would be devastated by the loss of this calf who she had grown so fondly of in just one day.  I reminded my friend that her daughter would be okay.  Her daughter would come to understand the concept of life and death at an early age that many people don’t teach their children about until they grow older.  Her daughter would be stronger for going through the grieving process and learning to understand the emotions of what it brings to her outlook on life and the strength that sits within her.

We celebrate and grieve in one way or another on the farm almost daily—the loss of an animal, the ups and downs of the commodity markets, the joy in growing something on the land we own and the weather, oh how we celebrate and have grief about the weather.  

Life on the farm is full of both celebrations and griefs and it’s all very much worth it.  In my short life, I have seen calves and baby pigs die, diseases strike our family’s cattle heard, the fall of crop prices, river waters flood my family’s fields too many times and the sun’s heat dry up the crops.  I have watched my dad die on the farm that he sacrificed so much of his life for and celebrated his life on the same farm that his family continues to work on today.  I have witnessed the hard work our farmers give daily to their family farms and the strength and endurance to keep them operating for generations to come celebrating the good and bad each step of the way.

As we await spring to arrive and pray for a year full of good weather, steady prices and safety for our farmers, I am excited to celebrate Ag Appreciation Month in March and hope you will join me and learn something about agriculture and farmers.  And I thank Frosty and Baby Flowers for their enduring life lessons and reminders that farm life is worth celebrating every day. 

Compromise & Love

It's another week full of meetings and travel.  

In honor of the fake holiday Valentine's Day coming up, please enjoy my recent article in Farm Indiana.  We celebrate love a lot on our farm and hope you celebrate it every day too!

*****

As the winter nights have settled in and the farmer has been home more, I have thought a lot about “love” lately.  He loves me enough to ignore my frequent shopping bags and my many lunches and dinners to catch-up with friends.  He has the patience to listen to the “presentations” I give each evening to report on the day’s activities.  However, I love him enough to do more loads of laundry than I ever could have imagined.  I have enough love for him to realize I will never have clean floors, and I must ignore the cow manure and dirt to get through each day. 

With love comes compromise.  It’s in every relationship we have with one another, our work, our families and even ourselves.  I think we sometimes get so wrapped up in ourselves that we forget about the others around us.  With the many issues going on in our community, country and world, I sometimes wonder what would happen if we added a little more compromise in our lives.  Maybe, just maybe, there would be a little more love. 

In regards to agriculture, I wish people would understand the compromises farmers and ranchers have to make in order to sustain the farms they love.  Baby animals aren’t on our schedule, so we have to compromise time with family or being away from home to bring more life into this world.  During disastrous weather events, farmers and ranchers have to compromise their own lives and homes to save their livestock.  Just in the past few months, families have had to decide whether to save their own homes from flood waters or to move their animals to higher ground and save their lives. 

Farmers also have to compromise their safety for their work and to bring food to your table.  My dad died while working on the farm, others have been run over or trapped by equipment or lost limbs.  Working and caring for livestock can be dangerous as well.  You can be trapped or trampled by an animal or drown while saving them.

At times, agriculture is attacked for our way of life and our work.  And many times those that seem to judge don’t have the understanding or will to learn about what we love to do each and every day.  I always think, wouldn’t it be nice if they could compromise a little of their time to learn because we compromise our time to feed them?

In our two and a half years of marriage, I have realized we have had to give a little, take a little and commit to a lot for our love.  Compromising isn’t always hard and many times is for the best even if we don’t know it yet.  We may be on the opposite side of an issue or argument every so often, but we support each other no matter what the outcome is or who may be right. 

Even though I am right and believe the floors would be cleaner if he took his boots off outside, I compromise and let him come inside because it’s all for the love.

Dodging Cow Pies

 I drive to and from the city each day and hear lots of sounds.  

But nothing is like the sound of a combine humming behind our house.

Yesterday, I came home to the hum of 3 different combines coming from three different directions, and I embraced the sounds while they lasted.

While there is so much to embrace during the harvest, there is a lot to dodge.

I dodge a lot of cow pies on our lane while I take walks.

They seem to not care if you step in them, but they do care that I am in their way.

I dodge my inner caregiver by making countless sandwiches.

I dodge my anxiety about safety for my husband and the other farmers while drinking lots of wine.

I dodge the fact that this is not the time of  year to make "honey do" lists.

I try, really try, to dodge long conversations and updates about my day while I deliver dinner and when he comes home really late.

I dodge the fact that this has been the only place I have seen my husband in a week.

But I embrace the beautiful sunsets we can watch together even if it's for 30 seconds.

When you're married to a farmer, you have to embrace the chores that you usually try to dodge. 

For me, that would be taking the trash to the farm, feeding the dog, and mowing the grass.

I have to dodge the tall grass that is finally growing around my new walkway, finally.  Because really I am still trying to dodge not getting on the lawn mower.

But I get to embrace 10 minutes here and there when the farmer calls and says, "get your camera, we're headed to the pasture."  We took a few moments this harvest to feed the cows some buckets full of immature soybean pods that weren't ready for harvest.

I try to dodge laundry by going to fancy parties at our Indiana State Museum and celebrating our Indiana history.  What's great about our history, is that it always includes farmers and agriculture.

When I arrive home I try to dodge the boys from seeing me taking photos.

When I am in the city, I don't dodge from telling our story about the farm, agriculture and harvest.

In fact last week as I sat in the city at a dinner while my farmer sat in a tractor, I embraced conversations about GMOs, antibiotics in livestock and the fluctuating grain market.

While I don't get to ride along in the tractors and trucks often, I never dodge opportunities to embrace our farm life and from educating people about agriculture.

And while the cow pies on my walks are getting harder to see as the sun sets earlier, 

I have embraced the fact that I might step in one.  

It's "just part of it" as dad would say.  

So I just go along and step in them so I can embrace the sounds of the farm as I watch the beautiful sunsets.

The Harvest Widow

Last night I sat down after making 7 brown bag dinners, drank some wine and prayed that he would come home safe.  And I was thinking about all the other women who are in the fields or at home waiting on their farmers too--

The Harvest Widows.

I'm also thinking of my mom, the farm widow.

Harvest is the most difficult time for many of us on the farm.

I wrote this article in Farm Indiana in honor of them and said many prayers this fall for them, 

The Harvest Widows.

***

My favorite season is fall with the crisp air, crackle of a campfire and crunch of the leaves beneath my feet.  Every year the trees surprise me with their bright, vibrant colors and they remind me to enjoy the moment and breathe that fresh, crisp air while it lasts.

October is the month when fall becomes real, when the favorite fall things become part of our daily lives.  For some of us, the anxiety, rush of emotions and longing to see our significant other are more prevalent and real during this fall month more than other times of the year.  The some of us would be 

The Harvest Widows.

As you read this, there are probably farm wives out there preparing themselves for a long day, night or week ahead without seeing their farmer husbands very much.  There are some of us that make what seems like endless meals to take to the field.  Some of us haul our farmers from one field to the next and others help in the fields right alongside their husbands.  We always make sure there is enough coffee or energy drinks around this time of year and plenty of wine for ourselves.  Our endless loads of laundry and washers fullof farm treasures don’t deter us from supporting our farmers.  And we won’t truly sleep until we know they are home safe, sleeping beside us while we watch them lying awake with our anxiety about what the next day may bring. 

I take pride in my role as a Harvest Widow because I married a man who is working the land to produce food for others and to sustain a family farm for generations to come.  Working the land is a privilege not many of us have and the farmer takes care of it for his family and yours. 

While I talk about being a Harvest Widow to try and explain to people what real life entails being married to a farmer during the fall months, I forget that my mother is a widow who actually lost her farmer during harvest. 

 The air was crisp that night and I was on my way to a campfire when the call came about my dad.  I don’t remember the leaves beneath my feet cracking as I raced across the barn lot and yards that night, but I know they were there.  For some reason, the leaves every fall since that day have been more beautiful and colorful than the last, probably a sign from my dad to slow down and take a moment to enjoy them. 

Each year when fall harvest approaches, I say a pray for all of the farmers and their safety.  I even say a prayer for those that don’t work in agriculture but drive alongside tractors and combines on the road because it can be dangerous so please, be careful out there.  But my thoughts and prayers always include the harvest widows, the women that support and care for the farmers, and the women who have lost their farmers.  I’ll be thinking about them a lot this month as I sit outside drinking my wine listening to the combine’s hum in the distance and taking a moment to watch the leaves turn colors.   

Perfect, Dirty Floors & Springtime Mottos

It's springtime on the farm and it's perfect.

Well, except for the floors in our kitchen and laundry room because the farmer can't take his boots off to walk across the somewhat clean floor.  

When I come home and find chunks of dirt that have fallen from is filthy boots, I take a deep breath and realize that taking your boots on and off takes time.  

And farmers don't have a lot of spare time in the spring to take off their boots.  They are too busy worrying about the weather, running to the fields to plant a new crop, checking the pastures for new calves and more.

In their mind, spring is a perfect time to start doing what they 

love again--caring for animals and planting a new crop.

So I guess I can have a little patience and accept that my floors will be dirty for spring.

And it seems like we have several mottos on the farm during this time of year.

One of them may just be for me as a reminder to slow down and enjoy being outside surrounded by cows and farmers in the fields.  This towel hangs in my kitchen to remind me to chill out.

And it's in the kitchen because I spend a lot of time in there making sandwiches for the guys on our farm.  I get so prepped and organized before putting their lunch and dinners together that the farmer says I "compose meals" instead of make them.  

It's just one less thing for them to worry about and a perfect way for me to give back to the farm and farmers.

When you live on a farm, each day counts during the various seasons.  

And as a farmer's wife you have to stay positive and upbeat about each day. 

I found this mug during the move, showed it to the farmer and did a little cheer for planting! 

He then shook his head at me, gave me a kiss and walked away.  

At least he didn't say anything and make fun of me, right?

This year we expanded the cattle herd on our family farm and there have been great days and not so great days.

One cow delivered still born twins early this spring.

Another had twins several hours apart and she abandoned the second one.

And another cow died several weeks after giving birth.

But the good days are when the mom that lost the twins survived, and when other mamma cows tended to the abandoned and orphaned calves.

And the great days are when the calves are running around enjoying the open fields and spring weather, and sometimes really enjoying their photo op!

So on the farm, we try to keep calm because calving's on.  

In our house, there are lots of springtime mottos but most importantly it's patience and love.  We must have patience with each other to get through the spring, just like the fall.  And we continue to have love and passion for what we do--taking care of the cattle, digging and planting the new crop and making sure to care for each other along the way.  

Do you have a springtime motto?  

If you don't, appreciate your perfect, dirty floors and it will come to you.

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?

You Knew This Day Was Coming

He keeps saying that, "it's like high school graduation, you knew this day was coming.  Calm down."

But it's hard to calm down and get through our crazy busy schedules while trying to prepare for planting season and move into a different house on the farm.

Time flies and this day wasn't supposed to be this week, or so I thought. 

But it's here, and we are moving into a different house on the farm.  

I call our first home together a "bungalow".  

Kind of as a joke, but kind of because it's small and lots of crazy things seem to happen in it like  things that would happen on a wild adventure in a foreign country.

This house is where we first said "I love you".

It's where we got engaged, actually at this table in front of our big window.

 It's where we planned our wedding in Colorado and our Celebration on the Farm.

We bought this door on the day we got engaged and now I have to leave it behind. 

The story about the door is hilarious, but the stories told and memories made 

behind the door are more meaningful.

When we were dating, I found this Glick seed sack at an antique store and thought I was the best girlfriend ever.
His brother helped me find an old horseshoe from the family's barn to hang it.  I was so proud.

It took him weeks to tell me that they had lots of these at the farm still.  I was crushed but it remained on the wall.

And it's a nice, daily reminder of the family farm and seed business.

It reminds us of why we do what we do on the farm, and for the farm, so when our great grandchildren see a seed sack from 2015, they are just as impressed by it as I am with this sack from 1965.

We lived in this house and talked about how we grew up and the values we were raised on.  

We had to share memories of our fathers with each other as they both are watching from above in heaven.  

This house is where we realized we both believe, "He'll take you when he wants you."  

It's where we grew up the last few years together realizing the blessings God gives us and the fact he can take them away so we must appreciate each other at all times.

The house is where we decided to support and believe in each other, to sacrifice and be patient.  

For example, Brett sacrificed seeing my antique "Love" sign made by a friend. 

He loved the thoughtfulness, but he isn't a fan of old antiques used in this way. 

When I found out that our annoying chipmunk friend had been chewing on my sign, I had patience with Brett because he let it happen.  

Love is patient, love is kind........

The house is where I encountered more than my fair share of mice, lizards, bugs, clogged up sinks, no central air or heat, frost on the inside of our windows and much more.

So as we were packing up the house week and I got a little emotional. 

I just can't believe it's here.

While I was having one of my many breakdowns, he packed up our bar. 

I told him to keep the vodka out for the week just in case I need it.  

And then he said, "we need to drink a bottle of wine from our honeymoon in South America before we leave this house."  Genius idea!  And then I was crying yet again.

The bottle looks a little rough because it had quite the adventure from Argentina, a foreign country, 

to our bungalow here on the farm.

We did our own marriage counseling over bottles of wine before we got married to plan our life together.   And it started in this house, at this table.  

Then we set out on adventures and brought more wine home to enjoy over continued conversations about our life plans.  While the table is going with us to the next house, the big window where a proposal and many memories were made isn't.

Thanks to The Bungalow for our many memories and adventures between the walls. 

Now on to our next adventure and the many memories to come in this life.