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As this issue of the magazine reaches you, Memorial Day will be just around the corner. I recently came across a photo of the family farm I took Memorial Day weekend back in 2006.

“Forces beyond your control can take away everything you possess except one thing – your freedom to choose how you will respond to the situation.”
—Viktor Frankl

Anybody who’s ever lived, and especially anybody who’s ever tried to raise kids or cattle, knows you can’t avoid making choices. As a matter of fact, that is really an absurd statement. You can’t even function without making a choice. It’s a choice to simply get out of bed, walk out the door, do the chores or wave to your neighbor as she drives past.

I didn’t marry a farmer, but I am married to one now. There is a difference, if ever so slight. When he chose to purchase that first cow, all I could do was shake my head and laugh. I knew he had some ambition to farm life, but I did not realize the depth of that ambition.

Winter had been dragging on for what seemed like forever. The notion of warm, sunny days and green grass seemed about as distant and likely as a Cleveland Browns Super Bowl victory parade or a referendum for common sense on a San Francisco ballot.

Anybody out there remember Germade? It’s a breakfast cereal made from wheat, just a bit coarser than Cream-of-Wheat. Growing up, it was preferred to oatmeal, which we sometimes had. It came home from the store in bags – cloth and finally paper.

Nevermind I’d never strapped on snowshoes or wasn’t physically in shape for the trek. Nevermind I didn’t have ski gear. A spectacular opportunity presented itself – a chance to go with a hydrology team on snowshoes in the mountains as they performed their snowpack survey report at Mores Creek.