Blogs

Spring, or something that only slightly mimicked what I would truly consider spring, was not particularly kind to my country. It was cold. It was windy.

Last month, I made the unpardonable mistake of reading Facebook comments on a somewhat politically charged article. Subconsciously, I must have been missing that kind of discord since it’s been a bit drought-like on my Facebook feed since the election.

He pulled up to the house in a new model Chevy Silverado. I was couldn’t immediately tell who it was. The figure inside seemed incongruous with the shiny, gold-painted truck. His beard was long and his hair scraggly and gray.

A while back, about the time winter was thinking about getting serious, I did something I’d never done before: I got a flu shot.

It was a sky-blue bicycle with the then-popular “banana” seat, and it had lots of pink frills, obviously a girl’s bike. It showed up under the Christmas tree one year, and our 6- or 7-year-old daughter was over the moon with delight.

I’ve heard many farmers, dairy producers and ranchers say they wished they could spend more time on a tractor or horse instead of riding around in a pickup or stuck in front of a computer.