A Good First Time Heifer & Her Baby

Just like that, we had a baby and now she's two months old.

I'm not quite sure why time passes by so quickly when you are trying to embrace the most precious of moments, but it does.  Our little Glick Seed has gone from a tiny baby resting in our arms, to a wiggle worm with so much personality already that I'm unsure how my husband is going to survive us both.

I expressed to my husband recently that I thought I was a good momma cow.  

(Yes, this is how I think in terms of motherhood because of growing up on a farm.)  

His reply started with, "No...." which I thought he would say something about not being a cow, but no, like any good farmer he went back to the farm reference.

He finished by saying, ".....honey, you are what we call a good first time heifer."

"Oh.......thanks honey, I really do take that as a compliment."

And I do, a good momma cow is well respected by her herd and the farmer.

I really have to give thanks to my husband for the nice compliment only a farmer's wife would understand and for his patience.  I don't have to thank him for his help because he should be doing that anyway, I mean she is half his.

We respect each other enough to know we both have to chip in and make sacrifices for each other and her.  And when I do thank him for something random, his response is always, "I'm happy to do it".  

And I know he truly means it.

While I will be raising my little girl to love fancy things.....

.....he will be teaching her about the family business and helping her get her hands dirty.

And we both will teach her where she came from and where she can go. 

And now that the corn is turning from it's bright summer green to the harvest brown, the little Glick Girl is changing from a tiny baby to a chubby, smiley baby with lots of personality and curiosity. 

So as the time flies and the seasons change, we will continue to cherish and enjoy the precious moments with our little Miss Mae and those well respected cows.

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.

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?

Always Farmer's Daughters

As farm girls, my sister Sarah and I grew up with several pairs of bib overalls.  

At one point, I had a purple pair and a mint green pair.

At another point in my young life, I thought the 1990s fashion phase with one strap unclasped was cool.....yep.  

But this photo, this photo we took for our farmer dad, really encompasses what we have always called ourselves:  the Farmer's Daughters.

To this day, we dress somewhat alike but with our own personal flare.  

Sarah is always in turquoise and I'm usually in pearls. 

But one thing we always have in common is our love for life and our love for our farmer.

After dad's death over 5 years ago, Sarah, the real storyteller of our family, wrote this poem: 

Always a Farmer's Daughter

There once was a Farmer who had a daughter.

A Farmer that knew how to plant and raise crops and his own stock.

That Farmer's daughter admired and loved the Farmer.

But the time came for the Farmer to answer the call because the Man upstairs 

needed the Farmer to tend to his stock from above.

Although the time of Thanksgiving is the most difficult time of all

the Farmer's daughter was thankful for him. 

Thankful for the time she had with the Farmer

Thankful for the memories made and the stories to share. 

Thankful for the example of a life well lived. 

The Farmer left a legacy for his daughter to share with you.

A story that shaped the daughter's life.

The story of the Farmer told by the Farmer's daughter.

And always a Farmer's daughter I'll be.

So as farmer's daughters, we have committed ourselves to telling stories about our farmer and agriculture.  

We will educate those that need to know more about where their food comes from and how it is raised.

And even if we are into wearing turquoise or pearls or are dressed fancy or country, we are always wearing our bibs, always farmer's daughters giving thanks for the farmer.

Unspoken Lesson from the Farmer: Contemplate & Be Grateful

"Contemplate the good things in your life and be grateful for them." 

~Rebecca Pidgeon

I saw those words recently and it reminded me to slow down a bit.

Somehow, even in the winter time when it's too cold to be out a lot, I still need to be reminded.

Just like I need to remember to "be still" at times too.

I have been home, on my family farm, for the past few days and

 have sat still some and contemplated a little, but probably not enough.

Yesterday, at the farm office, I saw this drawing of my great-grandfather, Pap.

He was a teacher, a godly man, someone who enjoyed writing poetry and loved his family.

Above all, I remember him as a man that sat still and contemplated about the good in his life.

The crazy thing about this drawing from Pap's former student is that 

it resembles my dad too.

Dad sat and contemplated things too, but didn't really over think things.  

That's what he told me I did, "Katie, you think too much."  

He just lived his life, contemplated every so often about the good and the blessings 

in his life and then was grateful.  

Here he is with his good friend Kim, another farmer who likes to be still and contemplate too.

So here is another reminder, and unspoken lesson from the farmer:

Contemplate and be grateful.  

This week, and hopefully every week in the future, I plan to do just that--be still, 

don't think to much, contemplate and be grateful.

I hope you are blessed enough to do the same. 

Candy from the Hunt

I have been searching for quail recipes and dreaming of another bird hunt lately.  

So I decided to share some more photos about our hunt a couple of weeks ago as I try wind down from a busy week.

If  you ever come across an interesting recipe for these quail, let me know!

These birds are from our first day of hunting in Arkansas.

Memories were made, for sure.

Here we are after our second hunt that weekend.

We were a little more successful on day two......

So after you hunt and kill the birds, you have to clean them.  

I'm not quite there yet.  And we had Gerald.  

He had a wonderful, dry sense of humor and instinct for hunting the quail.

By the end of the weekend, he had learned how to push my buttons.

Here he is cleaning the birds--removing the feathers and saving as much meat as he could.  

Then he would put them into the water to soak before freezing it.

Gerald says quail are "the candy of all the birds".

I asked him why, and he replied, "that's just what they say.  They just are."

"I believe you, Gerald."

And he went about his ways, ignoring me and cleaning the birds.
Doesn't this just look like a chicken breast?

While Gerald went on with his work, I got distracted and looked around the shed.

I stumbled across this old bag of corn.

It always seems to come comes back to corn and soybeans for me, no matter where I am.

Always a farm girl.  

Always fancy and country.

And classic me, I took 5 magazines I needed to catch-up on.  As Gerald finished cleaning the birds and I enjoyed the quiet of the country, I opened one of my favorite magazines Garden & Gun.

And lucky me, I found this fried quail recipe in the magazine which I was really excited about because we now had 20 quail, or pieces of candy, to eat.  

On Super Bowl Sunday instead of buffalo chicken wings, we had fried quail with homemade hot sauce and homemade ranch dressing.  Big step for me to fry and make homemade dressings.  

Next step, clean the birds like Gerald and continue to enjoy the candy from the hunt 

and the memories made along the way.