Back to the Basics

Three hour plan ride. What do I do for three hours? How do I remedy my boredom in my two by one foot area that I paid far too much money for? I could read another Nicholas Sparks romance novel. You know the books. The one you want to read, not for the brilliant description that pulls you in with one sentence. No ladies, we pull that book off the shelf because Hotty Mchotty Liam Hemsworth is on the cover. Am I right or am I right?  Mr. Sparks knows exactly what he’s doing.

I could listen to my outdated playlists on iTunes. I think the last time I downloaded a song from iTunes was when I was a freshman in high school. JT, Garth, Katy Perry, Sir-Mix-A-Lot…….that one must of been a few years earlier. I was still trying to find myself. Hm.

Or I could sit here and people watch. Oh? you think that’s awkward? Strange eye contact with people within a three foot radius? No. Awkward is sitting next to Snore- Mix – A- Lot who just let air out of a place I can’t put on this PG blog.
Cool. I am five minutes in. The flight attendant with worse jokes than mine (I know I know, I just found out today there is an existence as well. I’m just as shocked as you are)  announces wi-fi availability while we are thirty thousand feet in the air.

Unless you’ve been living under a rock, you know wifi during flights has been available for awhile now. But let’s just go there for minute.

What in heaven’s name did people do before wi-fi? I’ll tell you what they didn’t do. They didn’t get to sit in their two by one foot area with all these options. They sat. They sat in their thoughts or they struck up a conversation with the people around them. (Unless they snore….or pass gas. Those people usually had ear plugs and a donut pillow. )

Let me ask you this. Have you ever gone to a public outing with your grandparents? Do you recognize their ease of communication? Or what about their not so awkward encounters with acquaintances? Their ability to make weather sound interesting when talking with a complete stranger is note worthy.

Yeah looks like snow tonight. I may have to get my shovel out. Or maybe my snow blower. I actually just washed that off yesterday. My power washer is the best investment I’ve ever made. Have you been to the new Stop and Shop on the square?

[I don’t believe I’ve ever heard that exact conversation in my life… I’ve also never heard of a Stop & Shop…My example is ruined]  annnndddd here I am in the ditch again…

If you are a millennial such as myself, I bet you can’t remember a time without other options than just your ability to converse with those around you. I can’t. I don’t think I can recall a time in the last ten years that I didn’t pull my phone out when I was standing alone waiting on a coffee or waiting in line at the grocery store.

Let me rant for two paragraphs. Does our generation or anyone after us have a fighting chance to redeem this technology driven world? Have we completely lost site of personal interaction? Everything from communicating things as innocent as the weather and as difficult as a confrontation have become easier to do with the one inch letters on our cell phones or computers. (Or  if you’re my mom, your letters are three inches… Nothing says my eyes need a magnifying glass like blowing up the text on your phone so Grandpa can see if from across the living room) ((love you, Mom, please keep reading and supporting my hobby))

How did we get here? Will we continue down this path as email addicts and passive aggressive texters? Can we even get away from this new normal?

No. Why? Because it’s a part of our world, our jobs, our families, our hobbies. You can’t just give that up. And that’s okay.(Don’t get me wrong, if I could play Farris Buehler with my phone instead of school for a day, I’d do it in a heart beat)  But it’s okay that we are phone fanatics and email junkies. Technology has become so saturated into our every day lives that functioning without technology would almost not be possible. But let me tell you what else our generation has a chance to do. We get to be the generation to look at our kids and say:

“No, you can’t get a phone until you have a car. Now go play outside. ”

“You think binge watching tv is fun on a rainy day? You should try building a fort and playing Lava with the cushions”

Because we are going to want our kids to experience the fun and imaginative childhoods that we remember before a low battery light started to consume our lives.

They say what goes around comes around. Well, I can officially thank my grandparents and my parents for teaching me the art of self contentment. I can’t wait to teach our kids the same values and beliefs that you have given to me.


A Letter to my Husband During Calving Season

It cannot be time to get up yet. I feel like I just went to bed four hours ago. I look over at my phone. It’s 2:30 AM. I did just go to bed four hours ago. That wasn’t even my alarm. It was my husband’s. My husband’s alarm to check cows.

It seems every night in the months of February and March, our conversations are centered around calving. They watch their cameras closely during every minute of their evening. Including, but not limited to, during a Cattleman’s meeting, over dinner, during commercials of the Iowa State game (priorities) (Go State), even while I am talking about really important topics.

“I can’t believe you got me this chocolate for my birthday.  I think my chin is growing a twin…….hello….are you even hearing me?! I saaaiiiid I think I’m about to roll out of this living room after my third chocolaty, caramel delight. You don’t even care …”

If you haven’t been through the above scenario with your husband…just don’t…You’ll thank me later.

As we crawl in bed, I am well aware I will probably lose my warm, cuddle buddy in the wee hours of the morning to another fur baby. Acceptance.

Usually when Kirn leaves in the middle of the night, it seems a lot is unsaid. Mainly, because I think I am still drooling and dreaming of chocolaty caramel delights. I never usually get a chance to take 3 minutes out of his busy day to be a cheesy, proud wife. So, for Kirn and all the other spouses working through calving season, I am just going to leave this here…

It’s that time of year again. The air gets a bit colder, the snow is usually a bit deeper and your mind is on overload. On top of your every day tasks and your honey do lists at home, you are also handling about eighty bread cows. Somehow, like superman, you manage to get them all done and get them done successfully. I applaud you my dear.

But all of these lists that you are checking off and all of these calves you and your brother are so devoted to are only a glimpse of what you are truly accomplishing day in and day out. Do you have any idea what you are doing for me, for you and I and for our someday family?

You my handsome sir, are practicing patience. When you crawl out of bed at 2 AM you know you will not be getting back to sleep until the sun is on it’s way up. You know, very well, you could be dealing with a reluctant heifer who is just not ready to push that calf out. All good considering, the Lord knows you need all the practice you can get since you married a woman who over thinks, over analyzes and over exaggerates much too often.

You are exercising teamwork with your family and you’re engaged to a goal of getting every calf out healthy and well. You know the benefits of a successful season will not only effect yourself, but also your family. So you dig deep and you work through whatever challenges are thrown at you. Challenges such as dealing with a new wife who is still trying to learn with all the good moods and easy times, come bad moods and stressful times. Never take it personally.

Lastly, you are learning good faith. Not only in every delivery of yet another miracle, but also in yourself and the idea of operating with your dad and brother. You have a lot of pride in your lifestyle and you should be so proud of that.

One of the most honorable things about you is you’re a dreamer and you believe in those dreams. The dream you have for us and the plan you have to reach those heights are extremely admirable.

So, while you are out there saving the world one bovine at a time, I’ll be right along side you, cheering you on. But since this is longer than two sentences I realize you have stopped reading at this point. So if you get anything from this letter,  I need you to remember one thing…

Please stop leaving bite sized milky ways in your pants pockets! ….

Okay, remember two things: No matter the outcome of this calving season or the next umpteen that we will undergo, I am so proud of you.

Love always, your punkin pie (you’ve never called me that… but a girl can dream ..)

2.5 Decades

Twenty-five years. AKA.  A quarter of a century. AKA 2.5 decades AKA. UMMMMM, I literally just turned twenty-one yesterday…didn’t I?

After twenty-four celebrated birthdays, you think I would know the drill by now. I go to bed on birthday eve anticipating a day ahead full of presents, flowers, hugs and high fives. Wake up on my birthday and here I sit another year older, not really any presents…no flowers… a few hugs (all from my husband…he gets it) and not a one high five.

Then again, life isn’t a basketball court, so high-fives may be a bit dubious. Flowers are for Valentine’s Day and let’s be real, basically a forgotten holiday when my birthday is so close. And presents stopped when I was sixteen. Such is life.

Now, here I am, at the end of another birthday, sitting in the midst of life’s blessings. Okay okay okay, I won’t go getting all nostalgic on ya’ll but, as I get older, I find myself putting some of my appreciation to the wayside. For some reason, life’s stresses and worries surge in front of the good and I sometimes forget how seriously awesome my life is.

Still sitting here…quarter of a century wiser and at this point saturated in the thought of not having it all figured out yet.  Because…well.. I am a half a bottle of wine deep and I just lost the period on my keyboard (obviously twenty-one was further away than just yesterday…reality check).

There’s the period………………………………………………………………………………………………

But maybe our birthdays aren’t meant for presents and high fives. Maybe they are meant to give ourselves a revival. A chance to to sit back and really look at all valuables the Lord has given to us.

Perhaps this is the wine talking…or… I really just struck a feeling. Either way, tonight, I will use this speculation of birthdays to refuel my own vibes for the next 365.

I have an incredible family, wonderful friends and a husband who really lets me be his princess day in and day out. I am lucky as heck and in all my twenty five years, I have had a lot of lessons learned, plenty of character building and trust me when I say this, a deluge of wine with my best friends. All important pieces to this party we call life.

Cheers to another twenty-five.

In like Flynn

1…2…3…4…5 trucks, one SUV, one car and one 18′ trailer..gang’s all here!

That was the entourage heading North on Highway 14 around 11 AM on Saturday morning. Heading North to our humble abode on the West side of town. For those of you who just choked, no…that was not a typo. We are officially living in the big city lights of Knox-Vegas. It is a quaint little residency, in a quiet neighborhood….next to a middle school. (kids….everywhere…not quiet…not quiet at all) So, here we are. HOME.

But let’s not get distracted with too much sentiment here.  It took SEVEN full sized vehicles AND a trailer to haul all of our precious (or not so necessary) belongings to the new place. Can you believe that….Why do we have so much crap?! And when in world did we accumulate all of it?! Remember the days when moving meant, Clothes: check; toothbrush: check; picture frames with outdated pictures: check, okay let’s roll. Oh the simplicity! Well those college moving days are dead and gone.

No…now…NOOOWW, I have things like a kitchen aid, silverware, dishes that could break if not packed with a world’s supply of bubble wrap (yes, I definitely over killed the bubble wrap) I have dressers that don’t fit through doors, couches that barely make it down the hallway…I could go on forever, but this is a free blog site (advocate for Word Press plug: Check)  and I don’t want to use all my word space with one of those long, boring adult lists.

But can I give you a packing tip, ladies? If you are planning to organize your kitchen the same day you move. You buy some wine, you pull out whatever cup you can find first and you do not hesitate to pop that dang cork and indulge. Because let me tell you, my kitchen looks like Pinterest and all it took were a couple of good friends and a few glasses of cheap wine. The tip is: Wine is always the answer.

So…long story short, with some awesome help from our family and friends, we made it. We spent 9 hours moving on Saturday and have officially began to settle in to our new digs. (I’m trying out some new city jargon..thoughts?)

Lucky for me, I had plenty of time to get in touch with my inner Cinderella this weekend. Cleaning, organizing, I think I even lost my shoes at some point this weekend. Also, I really don’t mean to squeak my own mop, but I’d like to believe we have made our new pumpkin into a cute little carriage that will take us off into marital bliss. I am crossing my fingers it doesn’t have one of those midnight policies on it…Disney humor…I think I have drove this joke ALLLL the way into the ditch now. Moving on….

Last night, after another day of unpacking, organizing and then re packing crap we really didn’t want after-all, Kirn and I finally sat down to take in the house. In the 60 seconds of quiet, I was thinking the following:

 {I need new curtains, that mirror needs to go in the guest bedroom, how excited I am to begin a new chapter in our new house and how much I loved working next to my husband to make our house a home today.}

I look over at Kirn, wondering what he is thinking and he looks at me and says,

We really need to get our TV to work……..

This, folks, this is paradise. We are in like Flynn.