campfires, s’mores and more

Our weekend wasn’t spent on the road or in a wheat field. Instead, it was spent doing things most people who don’t leave home or their family probably do and take for granted. This doesn’t mean, though, that thoughts of being on the road or in a wheat field weren’t on my mind. The images of loaded combines which I see via Facebook make me wish Frank and I were part of that journey. But we’re not and I need to just remain faithful that that’s not where we’re supposed to be right now. Instead…this is where we are meant to be.

On Thursday evening, I received a text from Dan (Misener Family Harvesters), “So are you busy tomorrow”?  “Just workin…you headed this way”?, was my reply. The Misener’s had been in South Dakota for a funeral. As you may or may not know, the farmers we “wheaties” cut for generally become more than just a customer. And, this is proof of that statement. The Misener’s have cut for Dave and his dad for quite some time. Unfortunately, Dave’s dad passed away which meant a road trip. OF COURSE they would go to South Dakota from Oklahoma for a funeral. That’s what we “wheaties” do. In December 1996, we gathered the kids and headed to a funeral in Jordan, Montana. It was the coldest funeral we’ve ever attended.  There was no way we were going to miss it and I’m certain that’s exactly how the Misener’s felt. The way I see it, we’ve got family scattered from Texas to Montana!

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“One Man’s Junk is Another Man’s Treasure”

While sitting at an intersection waiting for a vehicle, I HAD to try to record the sun as it was coming up over the east horizon. Unfortunately, this doesn’t do justice for the beauty of the moment – especially through a dirty bus window.

The weekend started for me on Friday morning. Jim was caught up with dry corn and had been spending some much-needed time on combine and corn head maintenance. On Friday morning, he asked me if I wanted to ride along to Cornlea (Nebraska) to get parts for the corn head. Jenna thought that was quite funny…going to Cornlea for the corn head – appropriate. Cornlea was about 2 ½ hours from home. I thought…what the heck?! Before we could go, though, I had to sub for a driver on the morning bus route.

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