Lazy Tuesday


New porch, sunset, and John Grisham. Sigh. 🙂

Life’s been busy on the farm. The men are planting beans and servicing the wheat harvest machinery. The grain gold should be ready any day now.

Life’s been busy at home. I’ve been passive agressive with the pharmacy. I’ve almost found homes for all the wedding presents. I’m chipping away at the Chore Checklist Lite, which has been mostly ignored since March. The other half got the porch installed early last week, and the roof on it Friday. We had people over Saturday night to enjoy it. We also got new curtains.


I much approve. I also enjoyed disposing of the old monstrosities…


Nothing better than 15 year old polyester to kick up a bonfire!!

Life’s also been busy at work. Everyone always wants something from you, and they want it yesterday. But my yellow shirt came in!

But all in all, I can’t complain. Life is full of blessings.


I’m Only Me When I Run

A farm wife with a city life doesn’t get much ‘me time.’ Let me explain.

I get up early (for me), shower, and hit the road to town by 7 30. I then belong to The Man for 9 hrs, and leave work around 5. Often, I have a to do list in town that could range from typical groceries to picking up parts to searching for the perfect graduation present for my brother in law. Then I get to come home, put away those groceries (because my better half is usually still in the field or shop), and cook supper – after I finally give up asking and just decide what we’re having. The typical woes every housewife faces, but after a 10 hour day in the concrete jungle.

So 24 hrs -7 sleep -10 related to work -2 for cooking, cleaning, and laundry leaves me with about five hours that are not scheduled. Minus a little veg time on the couch (maybe an hour, probably 30 min). That’s not a lot, really.

Then there are days like today. I’m exhausted from one of the most tiring days I’ve had at work since I started, I spent two hours in town running errands, and when I came home (to a half-built porch! Yay!) I had this incredible calling to go run.

I havent run a step since my 10k in March, and yet, I’m imexplicably compelled to lace up my old Nikes and go.


And a few paces in, I realized why.

I’m only me when I run.

I’m not the accountant, I’m not the maid. To reference Kenny Chesney, I’m not gopher, chaffeur, company chairman, coffeemaker, or copy repairman. Even though there’s nothing, I swear man, that I don’t do. I’m just a girl in an old beat up pair of sneaks that can’t contain the thoughts in her head. That needs a little silence to sort out her dreams and goals and next big plan. That needs a view like this to feel alive.


And suddenly, I’m me again. Driven. Motivated. In charge of my own path. Energetic. Spontaneous. Independent. Free. Okay, and maybe a little OCD (run, walk walk walk, run…). But that’s me. Your faithful blogger in a nutshell.

Life is a costume show. We play our parts, we wear the masks, we do the little dance. But then, if we’re lucky, the curtain goes down, and we return to ourselves. I’m me when I’m running outside. Where are *you*?


I’ve always been fascinated by Interstates. One lonely stretch of road, connecting Here and There. They lay wherever government planners decided- decisions made with little regard to what small towns they did or didn’t connect to the big cities. And every day you take the Interstate, you get on with a purpose, a route, a story. You take exits at certain intervals, to change roads, to refuel, to end your journey. And although it’s a reflex to peek at fellow drivers during passing (or getting passed), although you’ve developed your stereotype of the driver by his or car, although you may relate to a bumper sticker or a vanity plate, in the end you know no more of their Interstate story than they know of yours. They don’t realize you’re ending an 11 drive back to your true love – they just know they should have left for work 20 min ago.


As it is on the highway, it is in life. You don’t know why I skipped last night blogging and almost forgot tonight any more than I know why you haven’t been reading your WordPress feeds.

Tomorrow, we trek to Stillwater for the third week in a row, not for us or for the sake of going, for once, but for my brother-in-law’s graduation. As we begin our married life, he begins his graduate school career. As he revels in the freedom of summer, we make plans for front porches and rocking chairs and schedule doctors appointments. And frankly, everyone is happy focusing on their own journey.

So good night, all, and be patient on the roads. You don’t know anyone’s story.


Chippin’ Away

I have this twisted self-guilt/rebellious/immature/ocd pattern to my motivation. For instance, my Do It Tomorrow app (greatest EVER!) is like six miles long, and thats not counting what I pushed to tomorrow. I even pared it down to my plan for tonight, and random things that happen in the same room, hoping to inspire myself into success by accident.

Instead, I laid on my bed for 45 min after I got home and read on my Kindle. See, I get so overwhelmed with tons to do, that I revert to childhood and pout and refuse to do anything.


Like last night… Does this pic look like vacuuming or thank you notes? (It does look like fun, though…)

But then after sitting for so long in the chaos of my room, I gave in and picked up one thing. And then another. I was chipping away. And then I hung one shirt back up. And then another. Found one tank top to pass on, and before I knew it, I had this:


It’s magic. It’s a small start, only five pairs of jeans and three button downs and some tees and tanks, but this is huge for me. It’s the first step in chipping away at my to do list.

I didn’t get anything done off tonight’s list, but there is always tomorrow. I’ve never been one to let laundry and an unfolded futon get in the way of my inner peace. C’mon summer!

Just for fun, here’s my sock drawer.


I’ve been wearing mismatched socks since one day when I was scrambling for clothes to go ride. The horse didn’t care and I realized I didn’t either. My anti-matching socks ocd has only grown as people have learned about it. Even the people whose ocd I bug by mismatching have given in and bought me socks (see gret stripe/dots in middle). My sister is the most common culprit, though, and I’ve even converted her. I don’t know if people are really that fascinated by my quirks, or if they just really like spending only $2.99 for the priceless sight of my excitement. Seriously – how many people get equally excited over $250 cowboy boots and a 14-pack of socks?

Hasta manana,

The Yellow Shirt

Something has been on my mind all day. My morning (after the normal morning rush) started with a yellow shirt presentation. Yellow shirts are a reward offered by my organization at work for fitness. Not body building competions, by any means, but just for having a body age younger than your calendar age, per the body assessments at our company gym. It’s some complicated formula of strength, flexibility, body fat, and healtg habits. I’m 18, my body says. Sure doesn’t feel it, some days!

The yellow shirts are really nice, and I would normally insert a picture to prove, but since I wear a small, I don’t have mine yet. I can’t wait to get it!

The presentation (very informal) was led by my boss’s boss’s boss’s boss. We went around the room, sharing our wellness attitudes, and one woman spoke of losing 50 pounds and how she loves spring so she can get her daughter to walk outside with her.

And that was when the GM commended her for not only losing the weight, but encouraging others, because even when it’s not our intent, we can be such powerful role models and motivators for other people. We can be a mentor, a workout buddy, an accountability for snacks and lazy days. And that’s probably our greatest benefit of wellness and being healthy – being able to inspire and assist others.

He responded cheerfully to each of our stories with genuine enthusiasm, and never sounded cliche. It was awesome. Lol it really makes me want to go workout now. Will you workout with me?

Be a Yellow Shirt. Be healthy… for you, for your family; for today, for tomorrow.