Harvest...

This is us.  A farm family half way through wheat harvest.  A long harvest.  A hard harvest.  In September my husband drilled wheat into dry ground.  We planted in the dust with prayers for rain.  No other options because this is what we do.  100% of our income is from agriculture, from this farm.

And the snows never really came.

This is a drought year, and not the first. The US Department of Agriculture puts us in extreme to exceptional drought conditions.  That means there is no moisture in the soil, not even really down deep, to grow plants.  We are totally dependent on rainfall and folks, what we've had isn't cutting it.  Low wheat yields, the millet's not doing well, and unless timely rains come corn harvest will be poor.  Y'all if this was the 20's it would be a dust bowl.  It's a testament to how responsible farmers are and how far soil conservation has come that its not.

And how do you raise kids with this weight on your shoulders.  How do we hide that we're worried?  Or are we just honest?  I don't know.  There's no parenting books for it.  Luke and I just are honest, and we ask them to pray.  They know it's dry.  And we smile and we laugh and we celebrate because at least there is a harvest.  It could be so much worse, and for farms far south of here it is.  Also, let's be honest.  Our life is pretty good.  There's just that niggly little thought in the back of your head, "how many dry years can we take"?

Still, harvest rolls on.  8 more quarters, or about 1200 acres left to cut.  And then we'll be done with this dry year.  Just millet and corn left.  And hopefully some good rains. I always tell Luke, next year we'll have so much wheat the bins will bust.  It's my job, to keep being optimistic.  And to pour the whiskey. 

Crazy...

The world seems that way lately.  The Treyvon thing, the 51st state movement (which I am down with by the way, I love Colorado but I disagree with so much of what they have done here lately), crazy.  Repbulicans and Democrats don't just disagree but flat out hate each other.  People profess to be Christian but spew hate and somehow being a Christian is considered close minded and bad...  The world is on a decline.  And I honestly feel I'm probably too white, too middle class, too middle America to weigh in.  It's like there's always someone out there more ethnic than me so they understand better, they've traveled, done more, they're more worldly.

And then me.  An Irish/Italian girl from Colorado who went to college, married a farmer and is raising children, and loves Jesus.  I'm a stay at home mom for gosh sakes.  I know about laundry detergent and Pinterest.  I'll admit, I live in a bit of a bubble.  I got nothin'.  Except I'm over it.

I'm over the news.
Over the hate.
Over the people who tear everyone else down.
I'm over the name calling, the trash talking.
Over the arguing, the fighting.
Over the black, white, polka dot.
I'm over the drought, the low yeilds, the high food prices.
Over the Monsanto thing.

In just skimming an article (not the one I linked) about the 51st state movement in Colorado we were referred to as hicks in these rural counties.  Really?  Have you ever met a farmer?  We're wearing designer jeans and driving SUV's you can't afford.  And living in nicer houses than you too if we want to get down to brass tacks.  But we're rural, so we're hicks.  And if I'm for self defense I'm a racist, and if I'm pro-life I'm a closed minded person wanting to push women back 100 years.   It's awful.

I don't get it.  It makes me sad.  I try very hard not to pass judgment on others.  I love me some Jewish people.  Some Democrats.  Some *gasp* city dwellers.  Some Hispanics and African Americans.  Actually, I really love those Hispanics.  Those people know how to LIVE.  And its our differences that make it fun to know them.  I appreciate a good debate if I'm not called stupid for my beliefs.

It's sad times, and it's crazy.  I worry a little about the world I leave for my daughters.  I'm sort of relieved my precious one isn't in it.  It's just crazy....

Tuesday snow...

It's melting.We went out to the farm after school to check out the hog pen.  Jo's first year in 4-H and the first show pig will arrive this weekend, maybe.  Getting excited.

Eva dislikes the dog, and the mud, and her snow boots, and the four wheeler.  I'm just hoping its the last time this year we break them boots out.

Her tiny self is so stinkin' cute though.  Bow-leggedness!

What I wore. I like to think of it as farm wife chic. Or I worked out and never changed after.  Whatever.

Tretorn wellies, old GapFit maternity leggings, Patagonia fuzzy fleece jacket, John Deere Owners Edition ballcap, Vera Wang sunglasses.

We also made banana bread muffins with pecans and chocolate chips.  It was a good day :)

Rain, and hope.

Nearly done, nearly done, NEARLY DONE! Today Luke is almost done sowing wheat.  One more quarter.  One. More. F'ing. Quarter.

I do love fall.  But this has been a long September.  After Sarah's birthday and Marie's day Luke was in the field.  He prepared fields for planting and going on hope and prayer (because there has been no measurable rain for months) he started sowing.  You sow wheat, you plant corn.  I learned that very early on in my journey as a farmer's wife.

Anyway, he started sowing.  Then we had to stop and harvest millet.  A blessing to have a crop but to be honest it was kind of pathetic.  Fifteen bushels per acre is nothing.  At least it was there but it was a terrible yield.  Mama got to be in the grain-cart.  This means that I scrambled to find childcare and spent the day in a tractor only to come home and do all that mommy stuff I didn't get done all day.  After millet we drilled some more wheat.  And then we stopped to harvest corn.  Corn harvest is supposed to happen in October, but, there's a drought and it's early.  God was good and the corn yielded a bit better than we had hoped.  44 bushels per acre on dry-land corn.  Good, average yields are about 120 bushels per acre, but in this drought year we are grateful for what we get.  Corn harvest brought more tractor time, more scramble to find childcare, more cranky girls because they are totally not used to me being gone.  We finished corn, he went back to sowing wheat.  And tomorrow, by grace, he will be done.  Hallelujah.

I would love to have that guy home for a day...

And this Friday there is a 30 percent chance of rain and snow.  It is a better chance than we have had for awhile.  We need moisture to get the wheat up, moisture so that it will grow and not starve for water and die off.  A nice cold snowy winter so that it is cold in the ground and we get a good stand (healthy plant) next spring.  Will you join me in prayer?

Lord, Let is rain!  Let it snow! You know the time it will come, and the reason for this dry season, but we ask you send moisture!  Love you Lord!  Amen.

In other news, I will have a one year old next week.  Totally mind blowing.  And she learned how to drink from a straw yesterday!  And Sarah has her first day of dance class today.  My littlest girls are growing up...

I am also going to make apple butter tomorrow.

Another week....

School started and another week has flown by.  Luke has been in the tractor spraying weeds, getting fields ready to sow wheat in September.  The millet is ready to cut, we went to Nebraska to the big county fair.  I am 34 weeks and getting baby clothes ready.  Sarah will be two, Marie will be gone two years...

Life is weird.

This summer I have felt like I've walked this path before.  Being pregnant again, my due date only just about a month later.  Only Little Mama is not here with me.  And I remember falling asleep in the afternoons with her talking herself to sleep.  Rubbing the back of her neck behind the curls because she'd calm down then.  And chocolate kisses in the afternoon, snuggling her to sleep at night when she'd hold on to my hair or hold my necklace in her fist.  And today I bought her new flowers for her tombstone, for her anniversary.

That is something no mother should ever buy.  I should still be holding her here.  I should still be kissing her goodnight and washing her clothes and painting her nails.  Life is weird.  Two years and this life, while blessed, is not as full without Marie in it.  Everything is different now.  I have changed.

I am now a compulsive list maker.  It helps me to keep my anxiety in check.  I never had anxiety before and I loved thinking I was this free spirit who could just roll with it all.  Not so much.  Now I make a note, I cross it off, I have to.

I check over and over again at night that doors are locked, babies are breathing, lights are off.  I always turn around before I leave the house, I double check before I close the garage door.  I cannot shake the feeling that I have forgotten something.

I question myself more.  Am I doing a good enough job, am I good enough in prayer, am I leading my daughters the right way?  Am I a good example to them?  Somehow Marie gave me confidence in those things, I struggle to find that now.

I keep to myself in ways I never did before.  I am closed off with my emotions when asked how we are doing.  The same as we were, we still hurt.  But that's the hard answer and I don't want the conversation so I say fine.

And again I am getting ready for a baby and praying it will be healthy.  I am snuggling a two year old (almost!) again.  I am getting used to Josie being back in school... and life cycles back to where it was before.  And I should be used to that, the wife of a farmer.  Every year we cycle through the same work in the same seasons again...  And I suppose it will be this way until I go Home...

I cannot believe another year has come and gone... how have I gone without kissing that freckle on her forehead so long?  Though we are better at coping now the pain is still the same.  And this weekend we will celebrate and mourn.  The Bittersweet...  And life cycles on. 

Fingerprint Friday...

There is a song by Steven Curtis Chapman that says:
I can see the fingerprints of god
When I look at you
I can see the fingerprints of god
And I know its true
You're a masterpiece
That all creation quietly applauds
And you're covered with the fingerprints of god

To join visit Beki at The Rusted Chain...

God's Fingerprint... well, it's these girls.  His Fingerprints are all over them.  In Josie and her old soul, her worry, her being such a big girl and such a little girl all at the same time...

And His Fingerprints are all over Sarah, the surprise baby that we didn't know how much we'd need.  He sent her to save us, to pull us forward, to make us laugh, to give us strength.  He made Sarah just for our family and we are so blessed by her...

Simply, we are blessed.  By the three girls we have been given and the opportunity to welcome this fourth... just so incredibly blessed.

Running, watching radar, cooking far to much, and dessert...

We are nine days in to this harvest.  So far the weather has been good and we have been in the field every day.  There are storms west of here today and I am watching the radar and praying they stay west and pass beside us.  We still have four fields to cut over by Nebraska, where the hail was bad.  One of them is good, the other's all are dinged up a bit.

The girls and I have been living in the car.  Last night I drove out to a field we simply call "29".  It's up north, a half hour one way.  There was no wheat on that field last year.  The last time I drove those roads Marie was in the back in her car seat, bringing dinner out to the guys.  Marie was mad that Josie got to ride in Daddy's pickup and she pitched the biggest temper tantrum on the way home.  Marie was mad at me when we got home, mad at me all through her bath, and when her Daddy got home I told him he'd better deal with her.  All she wanted was that Daddy.

I cried most of the way out to the field last night.  Just remembering.  God, I am so grateful I have so many memories of that child.  Thinking of her doing things that I haven't remembered in awhile, it feels good.  Driving that familiar road, it feels good.  We all miss her so much.

Time doesn't ease that.  I've learned to smile easier, and I've gotten used to carrying this cross of grief now.  But still she's always in my mind, always right on the edge of my tongue.  The coming of this new baby doesn't change any of that.  In fact, in many ways I think Luke and I are feeling the ache of Marie's absence more now. 

Today they are finishing up the little field on the west side of the county and moving east.

Today I mowed the lawn, ran Josie to gymnastics, baked.

Today Sarah pitched a fit wanting to wear her green dress again.  It's too big but she wears it every other day anyway. 

Today I'm praying for Abigail, that it doesn't rain, that baby is healthy.  And I'm praising Him for all this business, this craziness, and this harvest.

Today my girls are fighting and I've got to be honest.  It's a blessing, I love it.  I love that they have each other, that Sarah gives Josie a run for her money, and I've dealt with this sibling fighting before when Marie and Josie did it.  But I've just about had it.  It is obnoxious.  I'm over it and my patience is frayed.

I need to start dinner in about 20 minuets.

These are what we're having for dessert and they are amazing, and easy!
 One Hundred Thousand Calorie Bars

Fingerprint Friday...

There is a song by Steven Curtis Chapman that says:
I can see the fingerprints of God
When I look at you
I can see the fingerprints of God
And I know its true
You're a masterpiece
That all creation quietly applauds
And you're covered with the fingerprints of God

To join visit Beki at The Rusted Chain.

This week has been busy.  Everything has been focused on the harvest, feeding the guys, Josie going to a sleepover...  In the midst of everything that goes on though there are always a few constants.  God's love, the blessings He gives us, knowing that Marie walks with Jesus...

And for me, there's always Luke.  And all of us girls are just crazy about him.

He's been in the sprayer from 5 am on and in the combine from about 10am to dark every day.  He's been gone since long before they wake and he comes in the door when they make their way to bed later than usual.  The girls haven't been able to see him unless we go to the field.  I only get to be with him when we fall into bed at night and he is asleep before his head even hits the pillow.

This week, I am grateful for the man that God has blessed me with and how hard he works to take care of us. 

And he's pretty cute...

And a really great Dad...

And he has this amazing faith...

And he lets each of us know that we're loved... 

I am proud to be his wife.

Harvest....

It's been a long time coming.  Last September we drilled seeds into the dust.  Trusting, hoping.  And the winter was dry.  No moisture came and there was worry.  And spring brought her rains... and the hail came.  Four quarters nearly destroyed.  Acres and acres of could-have-been smashed into the earth by ice.

But it's here now.  After heavy rains that would not stop, after prayers.  After all that trusting it's here.  We have a harvest.  And God is good... all the time.  I think even in the lean times there must be some lesson He's teaching there.  For me the big one is TRUST...  I'm getting there I hope.

"As soon as the grain is ripe, he puts the sickle to it, because the harvest has come."

Mark 4:29 NIV

Storms and a slow down....

Saturday was the big finish.  Josie's machine pitch/t-ball tournament went all morning.  I was so proud of her.  She played hard through three games, and went out to finish the last two innings of the last game after getting hit in the neck with a ball that had been tossed into the dugout.  It was good to see her accomplish something, and she was proud of herself.  Not to mention on her team, "1" there were 12 kids, only two of them girls.  Not bad at all!

Sunday, Father's Day.  We had breakfast together and the girls gave Luke their gift, a new sign saying "Dad's Garage" for his new shop.  We went to church, came home and grilled steaks and took naps.  When the Sarah got up we climbed in the Jeep and headed out to the cemetery.  We took Marie new flowers to replace the ones we brought out at Easter.  Pink, yellow, and white daisy's.  It is hard to have Mother's and Father's Day without her.  Especially Father's Day.  She was his baby through and through.

We came home, played in  the backyard, had good friends stop by.  And we watched the sky.  It was dark and windy and Luke was on the radar.  Nasty storms Sunday night.  The girls and I spent a good portion of the evening downstairs in the basement with tornado sirens going off and the weather radio on.  The wind and rain were amazing.  It literally came down sideways from the north.  And north of here it was bad.  Three fields are gone.  Three fields of wheat that was growing and beautiful are basically standing empty now.  And insurance will cover the loss but it's not as good as a harvest...

And Sunday was a day of storms.  Storms of the heart, storms of the sky.  Missing Marie and the rain slashing down.  Ice falling and leveling stalks of grain.  I know this.  God did not make hail.  It's a product of a sinful world.  Still, we are blessed.

Three fields is not everything.  Of the five or so fields hit only three are total losses.  Our house is fine, the farmstead is fine. We were all safe.  No tornado's touched down.  The girls didn't hear the siren and they weren't scared.  We still have wheat to harvest, we still have each other, we'll see Marie again.  And the weather is going to warm up again the end of the week so we look forward to that and maybe getting in the pool.  Finally!