Farm House

So, we're just driving along I-29 near St. Joseph MO when I see this billboard:

Oh yeah, I'm so going there. If it wouldn't have been for being on the way home from a long weekend I might have insisted we stopped. But, we were all tired. The kids were asleep. And The Mr....while he will say that going to these kinds of stores doesn't bore him to tears, he will stand around and make sighing noises loudly so I end up spending only 10 minutes in a place like this as opposed to 3 hours. Ya know? I mean, this is the same man who calls potpourri and scented candles "man repellent" after all.

So, I'll just wait and hit this place the same time I hit this this one....Nell Hills And it will be so, so sweet........Ahhhhhh

Mums the Word

Look what I picked up at the grocery store the other day. That can only mean one thing; my favorte season, Fall, is almost upon us.

Crisp nights, cool misty mornings, warm days.

Orange, rust, brown, red, yellow.

And this......Go Huskers!

Long Day

The Mr. was moving to a new job site the other day and he asked if I'd follow him while he took some equipment and a work truck out and pick him up and haul him back to the old job site so he could get his other truck and then follow him out again with a different piece of equipment. It made for quite a long day with just a quick break while my oldest had his piano lessons.
First a drive West on the Interstate. The Mr. is just ahead with the Bobcat. We got to see lots and lots and lots of corn fields. Of course, you know I don't mind that! :) I tried to snap a pic of a spray plane spraying that field, but he was too quick for me and I missed him. The boys thought the plane was cool, then they thought I was cool since I went to school with the guy that was flying the spray plane.
Almost there; we're on gravel now. A tornado went through here earlier this summer. Check out this poor person's home. Yikes!
And here we are. Our customer had a little wind damage himself, which is why The Mr. is needed here.
Later in the day, almost sunset in fact. This time I'm following The Mr. driving the crane. I'm driving his truck this time.
Finally made it back home around 10:30 that night. Long day, but an enjoyable one.

PSA

Just a little Public Service Announcement and apology to the six people that read my blog for the changing of the templates this past week. The first was boring me, the second was way too busy-looking and this one, I think, is a keeper. I like simple. :)

Redneck

I remember hearing somewhere that everyone has a little redneck in them. Okay, actually I think it was Denise Richards on her reality show and she said something about everyone having a little white trash in them. I think that's what she said. Don't quote me.
I don't know about that, but I do know that I have a little bit of redneck in me, and I'm not afraid to admit it. I say a little bit because I have all my teeth and even though we do own a '68 Camaro, it aint up on blocks, thank you very much.
I grew up with a dad that hunted and shot blue rock and I thought nothing of it. I knew how to shoot a gun and had my own Red Ryder BB gun (think Ralphie) by the time I was eight.
I was driving tractors and pickup trucks pulling the pipe trailer to lay irrigation pipe before I could even reach the pedals. I would just sit on the edge of the seat and jump off and stand on the brake when Grandpa said "whoa".
I helped butcher and clean chickens. My job was to clean out the gizzards. Yeah, I don't much like eating them, but they sure were fun to clean out. You'd be amazed at what chickens eat.
I almost drowned in the pig lagoon when I was three. I vaguely remember it, but my mom and dad still tell the story, always saying it was a good thing Grandpa was nearby and heard my screaming or I'd be a goner.
I know the joys of driving out to the field on a sultry late summer afternoon to pick sweetcorn until the box on the back of the 4-wheeler was full then bringing it back home to shuck it.
Growing up, my playground was the pasture, the "crick" (we call creeks "cricks" around here), and the grain bins. My mom never worried about where my sister and I were because there were no strangers around and Dad and Grandpa were always nearby.
My Mr. grew up almost exactly the same as I did. Farm living. Nothing better.
We live in the "big city" now, and it makes me more than a little bit sad that our boys are growing up so differently than we did. They're city boys, born and bred. They will never know the joy of going fishing in your own pond for Bullheads, of jumping in the back of a grain truck loaded with corn or milo, or climbing a mountain of haybales.
Although The Mr. and I enjoy going to fancy-schmancy restaurants (when we have a sitter, that is), we still always have the most fun when we're with our "redneck" friends doing "redneck" things. You know: drinkin' beer, going bowling, parking in the country (oops, did I just say that? and we don't do that with friends either, just to clarify.)
Call it redneck, hick, white trash, hayseed. I just call it normal.

Happy Monday! FF

Farmhouse

I love houses; mansions and cottages, historic homes and new homes, Tudors and Ranches. I am always looking whether it's online or out driving around. I especially love to look at older homes, those built before the 1940s, because of the architectual detail and charm that seemed to be standard on homes built back in the day. Of course, heaven on earth to me would be a farmhouse. I'm not sure I even care what style of home it is, just that it's out in the country. This one is for sale, but it's about an hour away from where we presently live. I love this big old stone house: I think this one is cute. I love the front porch with all the rocking chairs:
Another old stone farmhouse. It has a windmill on one side (you can kind of see it peeking out). A windmill would be icing on the cake!
Of course, I have a particular fondness for the American Four Square:

And the holy grail of farmhouses to me is this one; Francesca's house from Bridges of Madison County. Love it!

I'll probably never get my farmhouse. The Mr. likes newer homes and the convenience of living in town. He's a farmboy too, but I guess in his case, you could take the farm out of the boy.

Oh well, I can always look!

:) FF

My Fix

So we go out to eat tonight at our favorite local grill/bar/dive and on the way home we're on the ridge about a half mile from our home (subdivision) and the view is amazing. I mean, it is pastoral/could-be-a -painting lovely. That's because our subdivision is on the edge of town bordering farmland. So I say to The Mr. "let's drive out in the country and look at the corn". He says no. "But please, I want to look at the corn", I'm pleading now. In fact, I'm starting to sound like my grandma who always wanted to look at "her corn" about her rented farmland after she moved to town. He says, "I looked at corn all day. I don't want to look at it again". He builds grain handling systems, so I understand this logic. Still..... I want to look at some gosh dang corn. He tells me, "You'll have to wait for your fix. I'm tired."
No cornfields for me tonight. I should've married a farmer.