URGENT! I interrupt this blog post to present you with an important question.
A Pew study recently reported that mothers are the sole or primary providers in 40% of American households with children under 18. In 1960, women were sole or primary breadwinners in 11% of households with children under 18. I associate with some intelligent, respected individuals who claim this is positive news; that the trend toward more working mothers opens the doors of opportunity for women and gives women greater chances for success. I (vehemently) disagree. I see it as an indication that more mothers are being economically pushed into the
workforce and that women’s freedom to choose to stay at home is diminished. To me, this is not good news. What do you
think?
And now we return to our regularly scheduled programming.
“Well life on the farm is kinda laid back
Ain't much an old country boy like me can't hack
It's early to rise, early in the sack
Thank God I'm a country boy.
“Well a simple kinda life never did me no harm
A raisin' me a family and workin' on a farm
My days are all filled with an easy country charm
Thank God I'm a country boy
[ JOHN DENVER - THANK GOD I€™MCOUNTRY BOY LYRICS]
I love this John Denver song; in many ways it describes me. The longer I live on this great, green Earth, the more I realize I am a country girl—through and through—and the more grateful I am for that fact. However, life on my tiny one acre farm is not laid back. I am a country girl living in a city and life is frenetic more often than not. The following little re-write makes the song more personally accurate.
“Well life on my farm is rarely laid back
Though it ain't much a country gal like me can't hack
It's early to rise, early in the sack
Thank God I'm a country girl.
“Well this crazy kinda life never did me no harm
A raisin' me a family; we’re all workin' on our farm
My children and my husband fill my heart with charm
Thank God I'm a country girl.
Whaaa-whoo! Life on our city farm is not laid back as will be demonstrated by this week’s stories.
Monday I noticed that the sheep were not keeping pace with the pasture’s growth; something needed to be done. Two options presented themselves. I could 1) invite Dad’s horses over for a week, they would chop the grass down and leave mounds of poop or 2) buy a steer that would chop the grass down, leave me mounds of poop AND provide me with steaks in October. Easy decision. We now have a 635 lb. Holstein steer grazing in our pasture. [Lance finds it quite ironic that, after my vehement youthful determination to avoid Holsteins at all cost, I now own one.]
The steer has arrived. The rooster is gone. Friday night he attacked Tanah and, in the process, knocked over and destroyed the day’s egg harvest. It was his last mistake. Saturday afternoon Miles, Grace, and I invited the rooster to a gentle beheading under the apricot tree. Grace loves the anatomy lessons that accompany a butchering. She seriously enjoys reaching into the body cavity, pulling out the viscera, and examining the innards, organ by miraculous organ. It was Miles’ first poultry killing. Though he had no desire to put his hand into the chicken and the blood concerned him a bit, he was quite favorably impressed. “It is all so beautiful,” he said of the heart, lungs, tracheal tube, crop, gizzard, kidney, testicles, and liver. “The rooster was beautiful on the outside and he is beautiful on the inside too.”
[He also noted that the rooster’s testicles were bigger than his. However no side-by-side comparison occurred.]
Mice are not beautiful, inside or outside, though I definitely prefer them outside. Sunday night Grace called from the Bishop’s house where the youth were having a fireside (devotional type meeting). “Can I have six mice?” she asked. NO! “But no one else will take them,” she continued. THERE IS A REASON NO ONE WILL TAKE THEM. “Please, please!,” she pled. “If we don’t take them then they will be killed tomorrow.” THAT IS NOT MY PROBLEM. “Please, please, please,” she begged. Sunday night there were six mice housed in two cages sitting on an outside picnic table beside Zorro’s dog run in our back yard. Lance’s comment: “You are such a ‘yes’ mom.” My question: Is that a good
thing or a bad thing?
Having Chick attend the OWATC is definitely a good thing. In 9 six-hour days he has earned 270 hours of the 900 hours required for his Machinist 1 certification.
Having Tanah work as a 4-H summer camp counselor this past week has also been a good thing….except that it means I must drive to and from the fairgrounds twice a day. Driving is not so bad except when I hit a garbage can with my passenger side mirror at 35 mph and shattered the glass into innumerable smithereens. That was not a good
thing. I said to Lance, “I don’t know how it happened. I was not texting, I was not reading, I was not even talking to
anyone. How did I get close enough to the garbage can to clip it with the mirror?” He kindly pointed out that the question
was one I should know the answer to since I was the one who had done it. He was the person who was left wondering how….
While I was in Yellowstone Mr. Miles competed in the district Krypto (a math card game) finals and placed third. The
experience has converted him to a Krypto-maniac. In church Sunday he used the hymn numbers posted at the front of the chapel to created multiple Krypto challenges. He kept himself entertained.
Hope, age six, entertained us Sunday in Primary. Brother Ropelato taught that no unclean thing can be in heaven. He then asked what people do when they sin and become unclean. He anticipated an answer centered on repentance. What he got was a loud and emphatic “Go to hell!”
I know one person who is definitely NOT going to hell. I’ve sung Sallie Hislop’s praises before and will sing them again I’m sure. Tuesday night I learned that I needed to pick a book and make a meal for Wednesday morning’s book club. I mentioned my quandary to Sallie. She suggested I make a green salad. Good idea. Wednesday morning she showed up
with chicken for my green salad, a pasta salad of her own, cookies, and a chocolate birthday cake for Tammy, another Book Club member. Great idea!!
I heard some great ideas at my first meeting with the Standard Examiner editorial board Monday….and some not so great ideas. The first item discussed was one I thought was a no brainer. The other board members thought it was a no brainer also. Sadly our brains were going in different directions. As the new girl on the block and the only non-newspaper person present, I hesitated a moment before expressing an opinion contrary to everyone else there…and then jumped in. I
was not very convincing, however. The final vote was 6-1; I was the lone opposing voice.
Though the first vote went against me, I had a very good experience. It was enlightening, invigorating and empowering to discuss issues with intelligent, well-read people. I very much look forward to the next meeting.
As we walked out, Andy Howell, the paper’s executive editor, said, “Will you still be able to meet with us when school starts?” Initially I interpreted the question to mean that he liked having me on the board and was hoping that school’s start in the fall would not interfere. I felt great. Then the less confident me began hypothesizing that he did NOT like having me on the board and was hoping that school’s start in the fall would prevent my continued attendance. I felt insecure. The truth is probably that he was simply curious. Now I feel silly. It is funny what we humans do to ourselves.
It is also funny, in a beautiful, amazing, indescribable way, what our children do to us. I had an absolutely fabulous, glorious, spectacular, wonderful Saturday. Why? Because my house was messy in the morning and was clean in the
afternoon. The house was an attic to basement disaster; stuff covered every horizontal surface. Enter TeamHISLOP.
Armed with a mop, a vacuum, a broom, multiple rags, some squirt bottles and the mantra “No one is done until everyone is done”, we set to work. Everyone pitched in; no one complained. In 2.5 hours we made it happen, together. There seriously is no joy comparable to working together as a family.
Well I wouldn't trade my life for diamonds or a jewel,
I'd rather have my animals and a gardenin' tool.
Being here with my family is really, REALLY cool.
Thank God I'm a country girl.
Love,
Teresa
A Pew study recently reported that mothers are the sole or primary providers in 40% of American households with children under 18. In 1960, women were sole or primary breadwinners in 11% of households with children under 18. I associate with some intelligent, respected individuals who claim this is positive news; that the trend toward more working mothers opens the doors of opportunity for women and gives women greater chances for success. I (vehemently) disagree. I see it as an indication that more mothers are being economically pushed into the
workforce and that women’s freedom to choose to stay at home is diminished. To me, this is not good news. What do you
think?
And now we return to our regularly scheduled programming.
“Well life on the farm is kinda laid back
Ain't much an old country boy like me can't hack
It's early to rise, early in the sack
Thank God I'm a country boy.
“Well a simple kinda life never did me no harm
A raisin' me a family and workin' on a farm
My days are all filled with an easy country charm
Thank God I'm a country boy
[ JOHN DENVER - THANK GOD I€™MCOUNTRY BOY LYRICS]
I love this John Denver song; in many ways it describes me. The longer I live on this great, green Earth, the more I realize I am a country girl—through and through—and the more grateful I am for that fact. However, life on my tiny one acre farm is not laid back. I am a country girl living in a city and life is frenetic more often than not. The following little re-write makes the song more personally accurate.
“Well life on my farm is rarely laid back
Though it ain't much a country gal like me can't hack
It's early to rise, early in the sack
Thank God I'm a country girl.
“Well this crazy kinda life never did me no harm
A raisin' me a family; we’re all workin' on our farm
My children and my husband fill my heart with charm
Thank God I'm a country girl.
Whaaa-whoo! Life on our city farm is not laid back as will be demonstrated by this week’s stories.
Monday I noticed that the sheep were not keeping pace with the pasture’s growth; something needed to be done. Two options presented themselves. I could 1) invite Dad’s horses over for a week, they would chop the grass down and leave mounds of poop or 2) buy a steer that would chop the grass down, leave me mounds of poop AND provide me with steaks in October. Easy decision. We now have a 635 lb. Holstein steer grazing in our pasture. [Lance finds it quite ironic that, after my vehement youthful determination to avoid Holsteins at all cost, I now own one.]
The steer has arrived. The rooster is gone. Friday night he attacked Tanah and, in the process, knocked over and destroyed the day’s egg harvest. It was his last mistake. Saturday afternoon Miles, Grace, and I invited the rooster to a gentle beheading under the apricot tree. Grace loves the anatomy lessons that accompany a butchering. She seriously enjoys reaching into the body cavity, pulling out the viscera, and examining the innards, organ by miraculous organ. It was Miles’ first poultry killing. Though he had no desire to put his hand into the chicken and the blood concerned him a bit, he was quite favorably impressed. “It is all so beautiful,” he said of the heart, lungs, tracheal tube, crop, gizzard, kidney, testicles, and liver. “The rooster was beautiful on the outside and he is beautiful on the inside too.”
[He also noted that the rooster’s testicles were bigger than his. However no side-by-side comparison occurred.]
Mice are not beautiful, inside or outside, though I definitely prefer them outside. Sunday night Grace called from the Bishop’s house where the youth were having a fireside (devotional type meeting). “Can I have six mice?” she asked. NO! “But no one else will take them,” she continued. THERE IS A REASON NO ONE WILL TAKE THEM. “Please, please!,” she pled. “If we don’t take them then they will be killed tomorrow.” THAT IS NOT MY PROBLEM. “Please, please, please,” she begged. Sunday night there were six mice housed in two cages sitting on an outside picnic table beside Zorro’s dog run in our back yard. Lance’s comment: “You are such a ‘yes’ mom.” My question: Is that a good
thing or a bad thing?
Having Chick attend the OWATC is definitely a good thing. In 9 six-hour days he has earned 270 hours of the 900 hours required for his Machinist 1 certification.
Having Tanah work as a 4-H summer camp counselor this past week has also been a good thing….except that it means I must drive to and from the fairgrounds twice a day. Driving is not so bad except when I hit a garbage can with my passenger side mirror at 35 mph and shattered the glass into innumerable smithereens. That was not a good
thing. I said to Lance, “I don’t know how it happened. I was not texting, I was not reading, I was not even talking to
anyone. How did I get close enough to the garbage can to clip it with the mirror?” He kindly pointed out that the question
was one I should know the answer to since I was the one who had done it. He was the person who was left wondering how….
While I was in Yellowstone Mr. Miles competed in the district Krypto (a math card game) finals and placed third. The
experience has converted him to a Krypto-maniac. In church Sunday he used the hymn numbers posted at the front of the chapel to created multiple Krypto challenges. He kept himself entertained.
Hope, age six, entertained us Sunday in Primary. Brother Ropelato taught that no unclean thing can be in heaven. He then asked what people do when they sin and become unclean. He anticipated an answer centered on repentance. What he got was a loud and emphatic “Go to hell!”
I know one person who is definitely NOT going to hell. I’ve sung Sallie Hislop’s praises before and will sing them again I’m sure. Tuesday night I learned that I needed to pick a book and make a meal for Wednesday morning’s book club. I mentioned my quandary to Sallie. She suggested I make a green salad. Good idea. Wednesday morning she showed up
with chicken for my green salad, a pasta salad of her own, cookies, and a chocolate birthday cake for Tammy, another Book Club member. Great idea!!
I heard some great ideas at my first meeting with the Standard Examiner editorial board Monday….and some not so great ideas. The first item discussed was one I thought was a no brainer. The other board members thought it was a no brainer also. Sadly our brains were going in different directions. As the new girl on the block and the only non-newspaper person present, I hesitated a moment before expressing an opinion contrary to everyone else there…and then jumped in. I
was not very convincing, however. The final vote was 6-1; I was the lone opposing voice.
Though the first vote went against me, I had a very good experience. It was enlightening, invigorating and empowering to discuss issues with intelligent, well-read people. I very much look forward to the next meeting.
As we walked out, Andy Howell, the paper’s executive editor, said, “Will you still be able to meet with us when school starts?” Initially I interpreted the question to mean that he liked having me on the board and was hoping that school’s start in the fall would not interfere. I felt great. Then the less confident me began hypothesizing that he did NOT like having me on the board and was hoping that school’s start in the fall would prevent my continued attendance. I felt insecure. The truth is probably that he was simply curious. Now I feel silly. It is funny what we humans do to ourselves.
It is also funny, in a beautiful, amazing, indescribable way, what our children do to us. I had an absolutely fabulous, glorious, spectacular, wonderful Saturday. Why? Because my house was messy in the morning and was clean in the
afternoon. The house was an attic to basement disaster; stuff covered every horizontal surface. Enter TeamHISLOP.
Armed with a mop, a vacuum, a broom, multiple rags, some squirt bottles and the mantra “No one is done until everyone is done”, we set to work. Everyone pitched in; no one complained. In 2.5 hours we made it happen, together. There seriously is no joy comparable to working together as a family.
Well I wouldn't trade my life for diamonds or a jewel,
I'd rather have my animals and a gardenin' tool.
Being here with my family is really, REALLY cool.
Thank God I'm a country girl.
Love,
Teresa
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