On a Path to Pinterest, Passion, Politics & Patience

It's been awhile, again, since I have blogged.

This post was supposed to go live a few days ago, but my husband asked me to go on a walk after dinner. 

When your significant other asks you to go on a walk, you go.

Even if it's through a field with a cow path full of cow pies.

You go so you can listen to your husband talk about the ground beneath your feet, and tell you about his favorite cattle and the genetics of his favorite calves.

Well, that's why I go on walks with my husband.  

I hope you have your own reasons for your walks and the path that takes you there.

So the walk along with a trip to DC with women leaders in my state delayed 

my post regarding our Mother's Day Celebration and my wonderful mom.

I have written about my mom a few times, but have I told about how she IS 

Pinterest, has passion, taught me about politics and has a ton of patience?

When we were younger, my mom did lots of creative stuff on her own, without Pinterest.

We had a HoBo Party once and even though they weren't fancy invitations (we were HoBos.....), you should have seen the creative spin she put on this party in the country.  

She even made my sister and I pick up sticks in the yard to make hobo sticks we gave away as party favors.

The woman taught me about presentation.  It's all about "Presentation, Presentation, Presentation" she says.  I think that's apparent with the various parties we have hosted over the years and mom is at the center of it all.

She also taught me about patience and that you must always have it.

It's so, so hard......especially with this crazy nephew and my husband telling him to push my buttons every time we are together.  They are cute though, weird, but cute.

Mom always said to pay attention to the details and have passion with what you do. 

So I always make sure to have a full bar at my parties.  I'm passionate about making sure everyone has a good time!

And that would include a dessert bar.  

This Mother's Day we had a float bar because mom loves Root Beer floats (and so did little boys, apparently).

It's nice to display your affection but we must always remember to have love when doing it too.

Just like my mom tried to make celebrations special for us as kids, I try to do the same with the nieces and nephews.  They got their own "Kids Only" section in the yard along with a chair for whoever was princess at that moment.

My  mom always allowed my sister and I to run free.  Even though it stressed her out with the amount of things we committed to, trips we took to strange places and crazy things we tried, she was always supportive of us running free to figure out what we wanted out of life.

On this Mother's Day as the kids were running free in the field, I was reminded that mom gave me the opportunity to run free and find my own path.

I ran free a lot and down a lot of paths with a lot of passion.

One even led me to love public service and politics so much that I am considering running for office someday.

Not sure what or when, but someday.

I thought a lot about it last week when I was in DC with wonderful, passionate, involved women graduating from a women's political leadership class.

I thought of my mom and said a little prayer thanking God for her.  

Then I laughed because at random moments one of my favorite memories of my mom pops into my head.  

We were young kids and she was a young working mom who wore red business suits.  

One night we got home and the calves were out in our yard, again.

She yelled, "Katie!  Sarah!  Get out of the car and go run through the yard and chase them back in!"

We did as we were told but the next thing I knew, she was chasing the cows with us....in her red suit!  She had kicked off her heels and joined us, running free in the yard chasing those calves back into the pasture.

So I wonder, will my passionate, political life take me down the path full of cow pies where I have to kick off my heels and chase cattle out of my yard while wearing a cute, green dress?  

Well, I hope so.

May God grant me the patience to be as great as my mother someday.

And thanks, mom, for giving me the passion to try.

The Women in My Life: Our Fancy Pants, Our Guns and Our America

This coming Saturday will mark one year of marriage to my wonderful, smart, kind and thoughtful farmer husband.  But before him, I had my girls.  And while I am with him, I will have my girls.  And it if God calls him home before me and there is an after him, guess what?  I will still have my girls.  

That's why, over a year ago, on a sweet April day we got together for a #FancyintheCountry party which was a wedding shower and a slumber party all wrapped into one.  

My dear mother agreed to allow several girls to sleep over and allowed her house and deck to become fancy and her front yard to become country.  

We had some Fancy Pants wine and plenty of champagne. 

My beautiful, creative sister created a "museum" in our parents' dining room full of photos of the weddings of the generations before us and my mom's wedding dress.

And announcements of my great-grandparents and parents from our local hometown newspaper.  

And the cake topper from my parent's wedding in the 1980s. 

There were even fancy catwalks from guests upon their arrival.

My mother made some of her classic foods such as "MLT's" pickles and SOS (shit on a shingle or Polish mistakes, whatever you like to call it.)  I made sure we had my many favorite fancy cheeses and meats.   

And DON'T forget mom's famous sugar cookies.  The favorites were the cows but she did make some fancy lipsticks too.

We gathered in groups for pictures.  These are my Alpha Chi Omega sorority sisters.  The girls that were there for me when I started my college and sorority adventure, that were there for me through those crazy college years and are still by my side even though many of us are miles apart. 

I opened a fancy, thoughtful gift from my sister that was wrapped in my fiance's, family's seed company sack from the early 1900s.  Sarah collects seed sacks and had a handful of Glick ones on hand before Brett and I ever knew each other! 

I gathered all my girls from my hometown.  One I was in kindergarten carpool with, the others I met in classes or student council or by accident.  But the bond between each of these girls and myself is individually special and collectively beautiful.  

We were wrapping-up our time taking photos that took us back to prom when your face and mouth got sore from smiling too much for long periods of time when.....

.....this guy showed up!

And he said, "get your guns and let's do some shootin'!"  

This neighbor boy, who I have known almost his whole life, was invited to my party to help teach my girlfriends how to shoot and maybe entertain us a little.....

So we got the guns and the boxes of ammo.

And then they lined up on the porch with their fancy champagne and wine drinks and I showed them how it's done.  Hitting a clay pigeon on my first pull!

There were jewels, and guns and fancy things in that front yard in the country.  Oh and my mink, Nelson & Co., that I inherited from my great aunt.  (He's a staple in my life, you'll meet him again.)

Some of my girls really brought their "America" to the afternoon party.

And some decided to stay fancy while in the country.   

But hey, a girls got to learn how to shoot in her boots and her dress!

For some of them, I got so excited that they hit their target that I laughed, cried and kissed them.  Just like the targets or goals they make in their lives, I always laugh, cry or kiss them (or do all three at the same time) for their failures and their successes.  

Because that's what you do for and with your girlfriends.  Before, during and after the guys come along.

At one point I decided to sit and enjoy the moment and those that surrounded me with their screams, laughs, cries and conversations.  I knelt down in the grass that I ran barefoot in as a child, in my fancy dress with my boots (that had a little bit of cow manure on them) with the string to pull the next target in hand.  

I kept thinking, "are we always going to be able to hit all the targets in our lives?  All the goals we have set for ourselves and for each other?"   

If we do or we don't, at least we had one day in our fancy pants and an afternoon with our guns in our America where hitting the target is very much possible for all of the women in my life.  

Especially if I have these girls there to shoot with and protect me!

So the next day, as we woke up in several rooms of my childhood home and sat at the kitchen table and on the kitchen floor as we ate our homemade breakfast, I felt fully prepared to get married.  I had enjoyed a true Fancy in the Country day with many of the women in my life and felt more comfortable that they all had practiced target shooting so that I could go and get married and not have to worry about shooting for them anymore!  But even if I have to someday, I will be there before, during and after the guy to help them hit their targets....whatever it may be.

P.S.  Thanks to my wonderful and talented friend, Lindsay Jean at Jean's Boots Blog for all of these wonderful photos!

A "Normal" Summer Day in the Life Of....

I am NOT a morning person.  NOT.  Can't do it and I'll be the first to admit to it.  

But I married a farmer and sometimes "that's just part of it".  And I knew I was going to have a #GreatAmerican Day so....I woke up before my early morning riser husband to "take on the day" as he says.

Even though I stayed up too late watching the news and a CNN special on The Sixties, I was still motivated to get up the next morning to celebrate my husband's hard work and to relax after a full week.  

Saturday we did things that we normally would do on Saturdays in the summer, but this particular Saturday we combined it all into one and it was fabulous. 

We did as many farm couples do on each morning and "got up with the daylight".  We headed east to Batesville, Indiana where our meat locker is located.  The boys had taken some cows there the week before to be butchered for some of our grass-fed beef customers.  I was pretty excited because we no longer had enough ground beef for ourselves and I had been craving tacos!  

(As a side note I do not buy beef at the grocery store, I find it in my freezer or one of our many deep freezers.)

After a routine stop for our only-made-on-Saturday blueberry cake doughnuts from Schmidt's Bakery, we headed across the town square to our butcher, French's Locker.

Our family has used the same, local butcher for a number of years.  They provide great service to us and to our customers who order the beef directly from us and provide their beef requests to them, the butcher.

And they meet us before the store opens on Saturday mornings......that is saying something after a long week and knowing a bustling Saturday is coming in the butcher shop for those customers that want a successful and tasty afternoon cookout or BBQ. 

We had delivered 4 cows to French's that week and picking them up for our customers who buy the meat directly and for our customers that we sell to at the farmer's market filled up the bed of the truck.  

This is one cow that is custom ordered in various cuts that a customer has ordered or that we sell at the farmer's market for those that may be interested in grass-fed beef.  

After unloading the boxes at the farm and meeting a customer for his delivery, we headed downtown to the Columbus Farmer's Market.  When we arrived to the market it was busy with purchases from loyal customers and questions from potential new customers.  The market is always a great way to educate people about our beef, the agriculture industry and our farm life.

After the market we headed west this time to our favorite date night location, The Brick.  There are a few things to know about this place before you arrive.  

1.  No cursing.

2.  You should be respectful and drink your beer out of a glass.

3.  There are no plates, only parchment paper for your greasy burgers.

Don't go there expecting to smell like roses and sunshine upon your exit.  But do know that you will experience a #GreatAmerican establishment where a date costs 20 bucks and you don't have to talk, just listen to the old-timer stories and the classic country in the background.  

After leaving the Brick, Brett and I headed to the lake where it was peaceful, and I napped as soon as we arrived (remember, I don't do mornings and when I do I need a nap).  

After a nap, two magazines and a 3 mile walk around the lake, I found a summery tray to fit our sort of planned meat and cheese tray that my farmer husband had suggested for our evening, lake-side meal.

It was perfect and delicious with 3 different meats, 4 different kinds of cheese, fresh bread from the market, nuts, some stuffed peppers, fig ham, horseradish sauce and some good 'ole German stone ground mustard.  It wasn't that difficult to put together and the presentation didn't take long.  After our doughnuts, butcher pick-up, the farmer's market, The Brick, our walk and our nap, we were ready for this....for our fancy meal in the country with the mosquitoes biting our ankles.  A perfect Indiana summer night in the life of this farmer's wife and her farmer.  

Oh and just in case you were concerned, I slept in the next morning.

My Mom is the Champagne of Beers

Wait....no she isn't.  First, she doesn't even like beer that much, that was dad.

She likes fun cocktails that her and her best friend Kimberly can make people.  It's their excuse for hosting soiree parties.

She is better than that.  Better than beer.

She is the champagne of our soiree called life. 

When mom was a little girl, her family that lived in town would pile in their car and every time they drove through the country, she would turn to her two sisters and say, "I want to own a plowed field someday."   

And each time they would look at her like she was crazy.....like they still do.  

Tim taught me to be country, Mary Lou taught me how to be fancy.  

She brings the sparkle even though she loves the dirt.

My mother is the one who took her girls to the big city of Chicago to shop with that best friend of hers.  They were both married to farmers, and we conveniently trekked up north during Fall Break to roam Michigan Avenue so the dad's couldn't go with us because they were harvesting.

My mother is the one who taught me to leave the shopping bags in the car until "later".  Later as in when your dad is asleep or has gone to work.  "There really is no need for him to see all this.  He already thinks we have too many clothes."  Well.....I might be practicing this little tip nowadays with my own farmer who thinks I have too many clothes when I don't think I have enough!  Mom would understand.....

My mother, an IU grad, suffered through Purdue football games with her Boilermaker husband, Boilermaker daughter and all their friends.  However, she always made fancy food for the tailgates, served it on nice platters, might have snuck some of those infamous cocktails in her secret purse into the football game (she had to get through it somehow)

 and ALWAYS wore red.  

My mother is the one who got mad at my dad when he and his brothers planned our annual hog roast the same Saturday night that Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman and Sully were getting married.  Who does that!?!?  So.....she made a cake shaped like a heart, bought some nuts and mints and made punch.  When it was time for the wedding she gathered the women in the little office to watch and told the men they weren't invited.

My mother taught us about "presentation. presentation. presentation."  And at a young age when asked to get her something in the kitchen to place her delicious food on, we quickly learned to ask 

"what kind of platter would you like, mom?" 

Photo courtesy of my best friend, Lindsay at Jean's Boots Blog

For my friends wedding shower and Bachelorette party, I basically wanted to have a one day event where we could be fancy but get country.  That party is a whole other blog post in itself.  However when I told mom, "I think I want to have a shower here early afternoon with cute, nice food, shoot guns afterwards and then have a slumber party, how's that?"  She looked at me like I was crazy, like her sisters looked at her about that plowed field, and then she agreed to let 40 girls take over her home and clay pigeons shatter in her front yard.

My mother is a fantastic baker and makes these famous sugar cookies.  She made sure we had cookies shaped like cows and others shaped like my Clinique lipstick.  And remember, it's all about the presentation!  

Photo courtesy of my best friend, Lindsay at Jean's Boots Blog

My mother worked full time at the bank and did all the cooking and most the cleaning and all the laundry.  However, sometimes we would get home and there would be baby calves in our yard and she would help with that too.  Dad would be in the field or at the shop and what is one to do?  Well, take your heels and panty hose off and run around with the kids to get them back in the pasture.  

I vividly remember her in a red suit once running around the yard chasing those calves.  

Remember, she always has sparkle even in the dirt.  And to this day, she still chases those 

calves out of her yard and back into that pasture.

My mother also bought Miller High Life once, the champagne of beers, for her Miller Lite loving husband, daughter and extended network of children.  Dad had called mom to pick up a case of Miller Lite on her way home.  She brought it down to us in the basement and when we saw what she was carrying we said, "um...what is that?!" 

 She said, "it's your beer you asked me to get!"  

Mary (as dad so fondly called her, "That ain't Miller Lite."  

"We can't drink that!"

My mother, "isn't it better than Miller Lite?  It's the champagne of beers!"

Sometimes, she didn't get it.  That Miller Lite was our chosen one and we would have it no other way.  We just laughed at her, accepted it and then never drank it.  

I mean we hold Miller Lite in such high regard that my girlfriend and I once covered a whole case of it with bows to give as a gift to one of our best guy friends.  It somehow ended up at a party, then back in my parents' basement.  And every time we would come home we would sit it on top of the big screen to signify, and tell the world, that we were home and we were ruling the roost that weekend.  

Well, it's still there.  Still at home in the basement covered in what's left of the bows.  And my mother, well she wants to get rid of it sooo bad.  But I think she understands it's significance plus it has some sparkle to it with the bows.  Now she gets it, it's our champagne, and she has it at all of our fancy soirees.