Evidently, my farm boy has been learning about persuasive writing at school. I know this, not because he told me (because his description of a school day is, “Fine.”) but because I discovered the following letter while going through a stack of school papers. Continue reading
We’ve come to the end of another 30 Day blog challenge, although mine tuned into 25 Days, I think. So, I missed a few. I didn’t explode, the world didn’t end and my life is still churning ahead at breakneck speed. That’s a big lesson learned for Miss Type-A here. Continue reading
And so it was today, we formerly laid Grandma June to rest (although we know she is far from resting, but twirling around heaven’s dance floor in Grandpa’s arms). Her service was all Grandma, from favorite, familiar hymns like “For the Beauty of the Earth” to the ballroom classic “Moonlight Serenade”.
She had chosen long ago, pieces she wanted read, and we heard from close family friends “The Nightingale Tribute” about nurses and “Little Parable for Mothers” about motherhood.
But it was this reading that resonated with me, a farmer’s wife, a farmer’s granddaughter, a farmer’s daughter – “Love Letter”.
Does it sound dull, this way of life?
To spend all my years as a farmer’s wife?
With a garden to hoe and chickens to tend,
dishes to wash and britches to mind.
Canning and cleaning and washing to do,
a husband to love and some children too.
Neighbors to talk to and help when they are down.
Fields to watch as the seasons go ’round.
Should I ever leave this, I’d miss it so.
I felt so right as a farmer’s wife.
(We are unsure of the author as Grandma had typed this piece on a torn sheet of paper, labeled “Love Letter”.
Eight years ago I thought if I had to drive another toy tractor from one side of the living room to the other, I might lose my mind. As has been established, my farm boy came into the world knowing how to cultivate, plant, fertilize, spray, harvest and chisel. And so before he was old enough to spend whole days in the real fields, we farmed our living room, celebrating several growing seasons in one day. In fact, one evening he declared his dad was a slow farmer and he had magic fields. Continue reading
Capturing a well-lived earthly existence is difficult to do in a mere 500 words.
Small in stature, yet formidable in spirit, Grandma June was every bit a country gal, farmer’s wife, mother, sister, friend and to so, so many – nurse. My six degrees of separation with so many people is Grandma June the nurse. She spent 42 years at KSB Hospital caring, teaching and learning. Continue reading
Barn cats were prolific on our farm. My siblings and I would spend days searching for new kittens, finding cocoons tucked in the straw in different barns. Not all the cats were friendly, but my siblings and I adopted a few. Soon instead of prowling in the shadows, they’d wind through our legs and purr with a quick scratch behind the ears. Continue reading
As a new mom, I had a plan. Because all first time moms have a plan. The baby will come, the mom will rest and life will move on.
I’ll pause here so all mothers can chuckle, because you know ya’ll had a plan too. Continue reading