Life Down Our Country Road

Well, it’s officially spring at the Johnson farm.  I look forward to this time of year because it means I have the privilege of following my sweet husband around.

Yesterday our project was to start planting CRP (Crop Reduction Program) ground.  That means that my job is to help move equipment from one field to another, usually driving the pickup and following Terry, who is on the tractor and no-till drill.  When we get to a field, I wait until that acreage is planted and repeat the process.

This entails lots of windshield time, listening to the radio and having a good book to read while waiting at the field.  I might slip a nap in there someplace too. 

Every now and again, if we’re close to town, I might get to slip away for a few minutes and go to the grocery store and procure refreshments for my hubby and myself.  Of course, for females this takes some strategic planning.  We don’t want to eat or drink anything that might require us to have to find a tree or bush more frequently than absolutely necessary. 

Men being less modest than us girls don’t see the problem.  They don’t understand that ladies prefer not to be surprised by the occasional passer-by.  It takes careful planning to get the pickup parked just right to optimize privacy. There may not have been any traffic down that road for months, but it sure seems like when nature calls, the area turns into a tourist hot spot. 

But, I digress. 

This time of year means I get to do more with my husband and I love it.  I don’t know if Terry loves it, but I do know he’s glad I’m there to help him.  If my helping saves him extra steps, I’m happy to do it.   It’s the small, seemingly unimportant and sometimes boring things to me that mean the most to him.  It reminds me of the scripture in Genesis that talks about Eve being a help-mate for Adam. 

I take pleasure in doing what I can to assist my husband as he goes about his day, earning a living for his family.  Few people are blessed to have the honor of working side-by-side with their life-mate. 

I know some women think it's degrading and beneath them to help their husband with anything or that their time is much more valuable than their husband's.  When I talk about helping my husband or following him around, I usually get raised eyebrows and the question, "Can't he do anything for himself?" or "I guess if something has to be done, get a woman to do it right."  

Frankly, I find those kinds of comments unnecessary. My husband does so much on his own and if he wants it done right, he will do it himself. He isn't helpless and he is more than capable on his own.  It's just kind of nice that he knows he can call on me to help him out now and again.

So, until the end of harvest, many times you’ll see me following my best friend around the country.  Window down, listening to the radio and loving every minute of it.  That’s just part of life down our country road.

Blessings!

Spring!

Even though we’ve had a very mild winter this year, I am so ready to get out in the garden and flower beds.  I’ve ordered strawberry and asparagus starts and seeds for some other first-time tries for this year’s garden.

Like most, I’ve been combing the magazines that promise that if I take some pot found in junk pile and put flowers in it, my garden will be the envy of my neighbors.  I think about such attempts and don’t see why I can’t do that and have my garden look trendy and relaxing and rival the likes of Martha Stewart’s garden.

You know how some people just have the touch? That ‘something’ that comes out in whatever they do? My challenge is that when I add a unique element to my garden spaces, it looks like I tried to add something to my garden and doesn’t end up looking anything like the magazine picture perfect garden I long to have. 

There is a sweet gal that lives not too far from me that has that touch, that something I long for.  She can pick up a bucket that looks like it lost a fight with a bulldozer, put nothing in it at all, set it in one of her numerous flower beds, with no intention of leaving it there and it just looks like it’s at home.  What is that all about?  My stuff doesn’t look that cool even when I don’t try. 

So, this year I’m on a quest to improve my gardening and outdoor space decorating skills.  I decide at the end of last summer, the existing mulch in the flower beds has got to go.  I need to re-lay soaker hose and just give my beds a face lift.  The birdbath has a decidedly southward lean, the maiden grass looks too clumpy and well, it all looks . . . really bad. 

I have grand visions of a beautiful vegetable garden with perfect rows of spinach, lettuce, peas and green beans and beautiful tomato plants loaded with plenty of fruit for fresh eating, canning and sharing.  My beloved zucchini is a must because it seems when I can’t grow much else zucchini pulls through for me.  Of course there will be cucumbers, some of which will be made into relish and home canned pickles. 

New on the agenda for this year is an herb garden.  I have been researching exactly what one does with an herb garden.  I’ve come across several articles that stress the importance of laying out your herb garden to get the most Zen for your buck.  It seems some herbs do better if they are planted next to other herbs.  There are herbs I could plant in my flower beds and herbs that only want garden space.  Who woulda thought an herb garden could be so complicated?

Needless to say, I have my hands full trying to figure out what to do next.  In the land of Google, I’m finding some answers.  As with most things, I need to get my plan and work the plan.  I’ve been accumulating stuff for the flower beds and garden.  Going through out buildings and retrieving forgotten items that may or may not make the cut.  Sooner or later, I’ll have to make some decisions and maybe I’ll have some Zen – whatever that is supposed to be. 

I’ll keep y’all posted.  Oh look!  There’s a bucket!!

Blessings!

My Small Town

The best thing about my small town is that everyone knows pretty much everything about me.  The worst thing about my small town is that everyone knows pretty much everything about me.  Anyone from a rural community will understand what I mean.

I’m a little late getting my post out this week because I’ve been getting a lot of phone calls and emails from my small town people.  They found out I had surgery last week and are concerned about my recovery, which is going very well, by the way.

What I love about my small town is this very thing.  People care.  They are genuinely concerned and want to encourage each other.  If one of our neighbors hits a down turn, is ill or just got a promotion at work, people care.  Yes, some can be nosy and no, not everyone is concerned or cares, but by and large, small town people aren’t nosy and are concerned and care about what is going on with their neighbors.

Small towns can be clannish and cliquish and it takes work to guard against becoming that kind of place.  People who weren’t raised here or marry into the community can be put off by all the questions asked.  

“Where did you come from?”

“Why did you move here?”

“How many kids/grandkids do you have?”

“Where do you work?”

“When did you retire?”

“What are your hobbies?”

“What size shoe do you wear?”

“Do you brush your teeth at least twice a day?”

These aren’t nosy questions.  They are just requests for information and an attempt to get to know the newest members of the community.  For people from larger cities, it could be viewed as an invasion of privacy.  They aren’t accustomed to complete strangers talking to them or showing interest in them.  Our curiosity is strange to new comers to our little burg.  We mean well and keep in mind, we treat everyone this way, it isn’t just you.

Before too long, we know your dog’s name, who to call if the wayward animal roams too far from home and let you now that Fido is on a leash at the back door of city clerk’s home with plenty of food, water and shade until you return home. 

Yes, I love my small town and I usually brush my teeth at least three times a day.

Blessings!