Unless you have the time to sit down and enjoy a good long read... wait. Just wait. Because this one is long and drawn out and a labor of love and is so much the epitome of me I can't wait for you to enjoy it. So wait until you can sit down, relax and enjoy.
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What is it that catches your breath? Makes you stop? Makes you, YOU. What ties you to your roots?
or a quick ride with my little girl...
There are so many lyrics to so many songs that hit a home-run to my heart. My husband picks on me for making our kids listen to country music all day. They sing along. No forcing required. Cassius requests Tim McGraw's, Meanwhile Back at Mama's on a daily basis. Ella can sing almost any song that comes through the speakers. And me? The one that catches my breath and takes me "home, home"?
This one.
Listen: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KxeocgQIj4Q
Read:
Thanks Kenny. Thanks for taking me "home, home" anytime I need to go.
Do you know what "home, home" is? My home is in the "city" now. We live in a small suburb of a city. There are cornfields in our 'hood. But "home, home". That's where you came from. That's who you ARE. At least for me it is. I love to go "home, home". My parents live in the same house they built when I was a baby.
Home.
The place you go and it "fits" just right.
Where everybody knows who you are. And who your parents are. And who your siblings are...
Where someone is always ready to help out.
Where when your daughter walks down the street people say "She looks JUST like you did when you were that age!!!" and they actually KNOW that she really and truly does. Really.
"Home, home" is the place where that little girl got to be Miss Poppy like her mom was twenty-some years ago. Where she got to sell poppies and collect the money for the veterans. Got to help put out flags and crosses at the cemetery in preparation for the Memorial Day Services. Got to be a part of something special and important and to learn.
Then she got to really have fun and ride on a float on a cold day in June in the annual Hampton Days Parade. Decorating the float, throwing out candy and waving to the crowd on a trailer behind grandpa's pickup. That's "home, home".
"Home, home" is where you go for...
#2 there in the river? He's getting it too. Farm fever. Rock piles, tractors, four-wheelers and dirt. He's into it. Someone (protecting the not-so-innocent here by omitting a grand-parental name) thought it a grand idea to teach the littlest how to start the 4-wheeler at a particularly dangerous age. (Let's say 18 mos.) Yes, the brake is on, the 'wheeler in neutral, etc.
Learn to drive your first "vehicle"...
For me there's nothing more enjoyable than spending a nice weekend or longer at my parent's house. That image of my kids on the 2014 version of a slip-n-slide? Heaven. For all of us. I picked and tipped beans for canning while they played and played and played... they were so happy for HOURS!
I know, you can get this in the city too. But to me setting up the slip-n-slide in the backyard in the city isn't the same. There's room to breath out here. There's a sense of safety. There is peace and quiet. Calm. You can hear the birds singing, turkeys come visit the ground below the bird feeders. Deer wander into the yard during dawn and dusk. The coyotes come out to howl at the moon while the people gaze at an expanse of sky that is truly magnificent.
Seriously.
Everyone has a favorite season.
Spring comes to mind. Sunshine, fresh air, warmer temps and the visibility of God's promise of new life. A release from the cabin fever of winter. Freshly plowed fields.
Summer is on the list too. Lake time. River time. Fishing, swimming, hanging outside with friends. Cold beer on hot days and nights.
Winter. That one comes in a distant fourth. Dead last in my book. (At least as a resident of Nebraska.) I do love the first fresh snow. From inside my warm house with a cup of hot cocoa.
I love the changes of season. Especially the other one. The transition to fall is like nothing else. I don't know how fall looks to you, but at "home,home" it looks just like this...
And it is magnificent.
There are beautiful leaves on trees and pumpkins and crisp air. Combines and grain trucks. Lines at the elevators. Chaff in the air and shredders in the fields and blue skies as far as the eye can see. And Saturdays where everyone's facebook status says GBR!!!
This is the season where those words from Ecclesiastes come to life.
The season where the farmers toil harder than ever. Earlier than early mornings and later than late nights. Missed events. Meals in tractors and on tailgates. The season where the labor of the winter in the machine shed, spring and summer in the fields, comes to fruition.
The season when you are silly enough to get married on a game day, during harvest, and the people who's kids you babysat for 20+ years ago drive 118 miles to be there. During harvest. That's big.
The same neighbor who gives your kids rides in the tractor during that endlessly busy season. The one who rounds up his brother, son and son-in-law to spend the better portion of a day cleaning up storm and tornado damage because its the nice and neighborly and Christian thing to do. Because it would have taken my parents and me weeks to accomplish with our little chain saw and four-wheeler and trailer what they did in hours.
That, THAT is what "home, home" is about.
This is the place I love. The dirt roads I love to drive down with the windows open. The creek beds and wooded back yard I love to explore. The old barn with a hayloft I love so much.
The "home, home" with a deck that opens up to the most beautiful view I've ever known. A view of a grand front yard, the pond, the fields and the country church at the top of the hill.
It is the place I long for, day and night. It is the place I love to be and never want to leave.
It is "home, home".
**************
What is it that catches your breath? Makes you stop? Makes you, YOU. What ties you to your roots?
My blog title says it all. That's who I am. That's what catches my breath, makes me stop, and made me, ME. I am a country girl. I love a good afternoon of muddin' in the river with my husband...
or a quick ride with my little girl...
There are so many lyrics to so many songs that hit a home-run to my heart. My husband picks on me for making our kids listen to country music all day. They sing along. No forcing required. Cassius requests Tim McGraw's, Meanwhile Back at Mama's on a daily basis. Ella can sing almost any song that comes through the speakers. And me? The one that catches my breath and takes me "home, home"?
This one.
Listen: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KxeocgQIj4Q
Read:
"Back Where I Come From"
Well in the town where I was raised,
the clock ticked and the cattle grazed
Time passed with amazing grace,
Back where I come from
You can lie on a river bank,
paint your name on a water tank
Miscount all the beers you drank,
Back where I come from [Chorus]
Back where I come from
Where I'll be when its said and done
I'm proud as anyone
That's where I come from
We learned in Sunday school,
who made the sun shine through
I know who made the moon shine too,
Back where I come from
Blue eyes on a Saturday night,
tan legs in the broad daylight
TV's they were black and white,
Back where I come from [Chorus]
Back where I come from
Where I'll be when its said and done
I'm proud as anyone
That's where I come from
Some say it's a backward place,
narrow minds on a narrow wage
But I make it a point to say,
that's where I come from [Chorus]
Back where I come from
Where I'll be when its said and done
I'm proud as anyone
That's where I come from
That's where I come from
I'm an old Tennessean
Well I'm proud as anyone
That's where I come from
the clock ticked and the cattle grazed
Time passed with amazing grace,
Back where I come from
You can lie on a river bank,
paint your name on a water tank
Miscount all the beers you drank,
Back where I come from [Chorus]
Back where I come from
Where I'll be when its said and done
I'm proud as anyone
That's where I come from
We learned in Sunday school,
who made the sun shine through
I know who made the moon shine too,
Back where I come from
Blue eyes on a Saturday night,
tan legs in the broad daylight
TV's they were black and white,
Back where I come from [Chorus]
Back where I come from
Where I'll be when its said and done
I'm proud as anyone
That's where I come from
Some say it's a backward place,
narrow minds on a narrow wage
But I make it a point to say,
that's where I come from [Chorus]
Back where I come from
Where I'll be when its said and done
I'm proud as anyone
That's where I come from
That's where I come from
I'm an old Tennessean
Well I'm proud as anyone
That's where I come from
Thanks Kenny. Thanks for taking me "home, home" anytime I need to go.
Do you know what "home, home" is? My home is in the "city" now. We live in a small suburb of a city. There are cornfields in our 'hood. But "home, home". That's where you came from. That's who you ARE. At least for me it is. I love to go "home, home". My parents live in the same house they built when I was a baby.
Home.
The place you go and it "fits" just right.
Where everybody knows who you are. And who your parents are. And who your siblings are...
Where someone is always ready to help out.
Where when your daughter walks down the street people say "She looks JUST like you did when you were that age!!!" and they actually KNOW that she really and truly does. Really.
"Home, home" is the place where that little girl got to be Miss Poppy like her mom was twenty-some years ago. Where she got to sell poppies and collect the money for the veterans. Got to help put out flags and crosses at the cemetery in preparation for the Memorial Day Services. Got to be a part of something special and important and to learn.
Then she got to really have fun and ride on a float on a cold day in June in the annual Hampton Days Parade. Decorating the float, throwing out candy and waving to the crowd on a trailer behind grandpa's pickup. That's "home, home".
"Home, home" is where you go for...
(That's sweet corn on a tailgate, folks. Straight from the field,
ready for husking, washing, cooking, cutting and freezing.)
(That's my winter stash... you know you're jealous.)
People ask me, "how do you know how to ______?". That's how I was raised. I grew up doing those things. I learned to drive a tractor when I was probably 5 or 6. I had to. Someone had to drive it while the adults laid pipe.
I got yelled at while driving that tractor. Dad didn't like me driving over the corn. (say whaat?) He claims to not remember, but mom and I sure do. I also had to go shut the well off sometimes. In the dark. By myself.
Mom taught me to sew. Against my will. But now I can fix things, sew a simple outfit for Ella, piece and finish a simple quilt for my kids and reinforce baseball pants for my girlfriend's son.
Mom taught me to bake. I was a fully cooperative student on this one. I can make you a pie, cake, cookies, etc, from scratch. And I will love every second of it! Go ahead, ask.
You know what else all these life skills have taught me? To be independent.
Need a picture hung? Go get a hammer, a nail, find a stud and (channel your best Dan Whitney) get 'er done, girl.
Need food for an event? Make something. And be proud of it.
I want my kids to be independent. I want them to know how to do things for themselves without being babied and having their hands held all the time. To be tough, gentle, respectful and honest. To relax and take it all in.
To just be.
Mom taught me to sew. Against my will. But now I can fix things, sew a simple outfit for Ella, piece and finish a simple quilt for my kids and reinforce baseball pants for my girlfriend's son.
 |
| That's Cassius' quilt top prior to finishing it... which I did! |
Mom taught me to bake. I was a fully cooperative student on this one. I can make you a pie, cake, cookies, etc, from scratch. And I will love every second of it! Go ahead, ask.
Dad taught me how to use a drill, a chainsaw, a hammer and a gun. I can still use all of the above. He taught me how to drive the old white pickup in the field after harvest.
You know what else all these life skills have taught me? To be independent.
Need a picture hung? Go get a hammer, a nail, find a stud and (channel your best Dan Whitney) get 'er done, girl.
Need food for an event? Make something. And be proud of it.
I want my kids to be independent. I want them to know how to do things for themselves without being babied and having their hands held all the time. To be tough, gentle, respectful and honest. To relax and take it all in.
To just be.
This one here? She knows how to "just be". She's my first farm kid.
Fishing? Loves it. The nightcrawlers part? No problem. She'll take you right into True Value, straight to the cooler and pick out her box, then dig out the one that's just perfect for catching a "big mouth".
Construction? Pshhh. She's in the shop with grandpa building a birdhouse or making his woodcut heart into a ladybug.
Gardening? Chhhheeeeckkkk! She'll water any plant that needs it and a few that don't, check on the beans, tomatoes, apples, currants and taste-test the raspberries for you.
#2 there in the river? He's getting it too. Farm fever. Rock piles, tractors, four-wheelers and dirt. He's into it. Someone (protecting the not-so-innocent here by omitting a grand-parental name) thought it a grand idea to teach the littlest how to start the 4-wheeler at a particularly dangerous age. (Let's say 18 mos.) Yes, the brake is on, the 'wheeler in neutral, etc.
So for years we could predict with 100% certainty the first words/actions of our son upon his arrival at Grand's. Now we just hide the keys. He's far too good at figuring things out for a kid that is creeping up on year number four.
I want them to realize how special it is to be able to go to Grandpa and Grandma's house and just run and play outside. Totally throwing caution to the wind. Because in the city you don't go outside to play by yourself without asking and having someone keep one eye on you at all times. But at the Grand's house? Go for it kid! Go explore. Show me what you find. Enjoy life the way I believe God intended it to be enjoyed.
Slip on that slip-n-slide...
Learn to drive your first "vehicle"...
For me there's nothing more enjoyable than spending a nice weekend or longer at my parent's house. That image of my kids on the 2014 version of a slip-n-slide? Heaven. For all of us. I picked and tipped beans for canning while they played and played and played... they were so happy for HOURS!
I know, you can get this in the city too. But to me setting up the slip-n-slide in the backyard in the city isn't the same. There's room to breath out here. There's a sense of safety. There is peace and quiet. Calm. You can hear the birds singing, turkeys come visit the ground below the bird feeders. Deer wander into the yard during dawn and dusk. The coyotes come out to howl at the moon while the people gaze at an expanse of sky that is truly magnificent.
Seriously.
middle of nowhere
That's my heaven on earth.
Ecclesiastes Chatper 3 says:
There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens...
and a season for every activity under the heavens...
9 What do workers gain from their toil?
10 I have seen the burden God has laid on the human race.
11 He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.
12 I know that there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live.
13 That each of them may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all their toil—this is the gift of God.
Everyone has a favorite season.
Spring comes to mind. Sunshine, fresh air, warmer temps and the visibility of God's promise of new life. A release from the cabin fever of winter. Freshly plowed fields.
Summer is on the list too. Lake time. River time. Fishing, swimming, hanging outside with friends. Cold beer on hot days and nights.
Winter. That one comes in a distant fourth. Dead last in my book. (At least as a resident of Nebraska.) I do love the first fresh snow. From inside my warm house with a cup of hot cocoa.
I love the changes of season. Especially the other one. The transition to fall is like nothing else. I don't know how fall looks to you, but at "home,home" it looks just like this...
 |
| Photo Courtesy of Ediger Simmental |
And it is magnificent.
There are beautiful leaves on trees and pumpkins and crisp air. Combines and grain trucks. Lines at the elevators. Chaff in the air and shredders in the fields and blue skies as far as the eye can see. And Saturdays where everyone's facebook status says GBR!!!
This is the season where those words from Ecclesiastes come to life.
9 What do workers gain from their toil?
12 I know that there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live.
13 That each of them may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all their toil—this is the gift of God.
The season where the farmers toil harder than ever. Earlier than early mornings and later than late nights. Missed events. Meals in tractors and on tailgates. The season where the labor of the winter in the machine shed, spring and summer in the fields, comes to fruition.
The season when you are silly enough to get married on a game day, during harvest, and the people who's kids you babysat for 20+ years ago drive 118 miles to be there. During harvest. That's big.
The same neighbor who gives your kids rides in the tractor during that endlessly busy season. The one who rounds up his brother, son and son-in-law to spend the better portion of a day cleaning up storm and tornado damage because its the nice and neighborly and Christian thing to do. Because it would have taken my parents and me weeks to accomplish with our little chain saw and four-wheeler and trailer what they did in hours.
That, THAT is what "home, home" is about.
This is the place I love. The dirt roads I love to drive down with the windows open. The creek beds and wooded back yard I love to explore. The old barn with a hayloft I love so much.
 |
| Photo Courtesy of Kat Hannemann Photography http://www.khphotos.net/ |
The "home, home" with a deck that opens up to the most beautiful view I've ever known. A view of a grand front yard, the pond, the fields and the country church at the top of the hill.
It is the place I long for, day and night. It is the place I love to be and never want to leave.
It is "home, home".
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