Where I Come From

Most people that know me know that I grew up on a farm in rural North Central, KS.
But most people that know me these days don't know what my roots look like. That's what happens when you move away, closer to the city. People don't know your roots.
These are some things that lots of people find interesting about me. Things that people don't expect from me b/c they don't know my roots:
-My Dad is a farmer. He has raised wheat, corn, milo, soybeans, and alfalfa for many years. Although not all of those crops are planted every year. He also has livestock.
-My Grandfather was a farmer. My great grandfather was a farmer. And my dad and uncle still farm the same ground as my grandfathers did. And my parents live where my dad grew up.
-I rode many hours in the tractor and combine as a kid. I thought it was so fun to turn the blinker on every time my dad would turn in the field. Ahhhhh the simple pleasures in life!
-My mother swore she would never marry a farmer growing up. She has been married to my father for 28.5 years now. That's what you get when you swear.
-I have never seen any man work as hard as a farmer. It actually makes it hard for me to feel any sort of remorse for a man that complains about how tired he is when he has a "city slicker" job. I always chuckle.......then I want to yell "Suck it up". They wouldn't survive one day out of the office.
-I have my own cattle over the years. Some of which I bottle fed as babies.
-My first "Real" job was on a dairy. Yes you read it right..... a dairy. A dairy where cows are milked. I worked there for one whole year. My shift would last an avg. of 8-9 hrs. I would operate the milking equipment on around 500 Holstein cows. Was it a physical job? Uhhh...YES! Did I get pooped and peed on? Yes, every time. Did I look hot in my Levi's, cut off shirt and rubber boots at the age of 15? Hell yes I did. I bought my very first car with the money I made working at Meier Dairy. I have now had the car for almost 12 years. It still runs and my hubby drives it to work everyday. That's what happens when you work your a** off to pay for something at such young age. You take reeeeallly good care of it!

So here are some pictures of "Where I Come From"


Every farm house has some sort of front porch. My parents love theirs. Can you see why? It is the perfect place for conversation, relaxation and memory making.

This is my parents view from their front porch. It's one of the things you take advantage of growing up......seeing the sun set. And seeing every storm roll in.

Heading to the field.


Dad's newest tracor is a New Holland. It has a buddy seat (aka a second seat beside the driver's). He did not have this when my brother and I were kids. Sure would've been handy. But you know how that goes. Your parents always get nicer things when you're gone. Probably b/c they aren't spending their money on you anymore. Anyway the extra seat is nice!

The grain cart full of seed out in the field. Eventually the planter empties out. That's when she fills him up.

Every farmer has very tan, very dirty arms. It represents hard work.

Some farmers have livestock. This farmer has cattle.

Cattle have to be fed. Therefore when the farmer has cattle. He never goes on vacation. They have to be counted often to make sure there isn't an escapee and doctored frequently. And then of course fed and watered.

This is the farmer's ride for his cattle. They come in the stock trailer and leave in the stock trailer.

Most every farmer has a daughter. Therefore she is the farmer's daughter. And this is the Farmer's eldest grandaughter. Ain't she a cutie!

Every farm has a shed. Most have several. Some are big and some are small. And on the side of at least one of those sheds is usually a basketball goal. An old weathered beat up basketball goal. This was ours as kids. Still the same. Just a little less paint.

And it's not a farm with out a dog. Some farm dogs are smarter than others. Zoey might fit under the "others" category. She's been ran over by the drill once and survived somehow. She's eaten D-Con (Rat poison) on several occasions. Even though she knows she has to have peroxide poured down her throat afterwards and she violently throws up for a good solid day. And then of course follows that up with a round of pills from the trusty vet. But Zoey is also very loving and NEVER barks unless something threatening is in her territory.


Well, this is a "little" taste of Where "I" Come From.

Sorry it has been 2 whole weeks since I have posted. The longest ever. The blog just hasn't made top priority these last couple of weeks. Seems like I'm hardly keeping my head above water these days. But when you work 3 days a week, chase a 2 & 4 year old around while building #3 and try to run a house you tend to get a little ...well....exhausted every now and then. But I am back! And promise to do better. For awhile anyway.