it’s starting to get real

Our world got a little bit scarier. This time, it’s not due to a virus or concern for a vaccine. Protests, violence, hatred, evil…nothing new to this world. It’s been around since the days of Adam and Eve. I don’t foresee it getting any better or any easier in the near future. If you believe what the Bible says, it won’t.

Everyone is drained from the craziness of this world. Everyone is mentally fatigued. Everyone just wants things to be “normal”. It sort of seems funny to think about the issues we were dealing with prior to March 12 and they all seem so much easier to bear. At the time, however, they did not.

We must persevere and continue to move forward – one baby step at a time.

Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us. Romans 5:3-5

As I mentioned in the last post, harvest stops for none of this craziness. We will continue to work towards the goal of getting our equipment to Kansas and set up camp by middle of next week. The first load is supposed to begin tomorrow (6/5).

Prior to right now, harvest has been something we talk about while our daily lives continue. Now, however, it’s about to get real.

Real, real.

I wish I could just take everyone with us again!

Jim’s dad served in the Pacific Theater (Philippines, New Guinea and the Occupation of Japan) during WWll. We have pictures and we have stories. But to have actually gotten him to talk about this time in his life…he was mostly mute. No fanfare or hoopla. That’s not the way he was. He did what he had to do because of his love for this country and his family.
My favorite story is about him catching malaria while in the Philippines. He was so sick, the natives hauled him from the lines to wherever he could receive the care he needed.
When the war ended, his rank was Army Tech Sergeant. We called him dad and grandpa. Today, Memorial Day, his great grandchildren went to say hello!
Baby Wayne (aka Layne) is 6 months old! There’s a story behind this dress. It was purchased for my oldest niece, Jill. Jill is the daughter of Jim’s older sister, Maureen. Then, her sister, Holly, wore it when she was 6 months old. It was passed down to us and each of the girls wore it when they were 6 months old. The tradition continues with the next generation of girls. Both Nora and Layne have worn it. How fun is this?
This is Taylor at 6 months. Do you see any similarities?
Three generations of hands.
Lots and lots of time spent at these iris gardens over the years! I was never lucky enough to have had a sister but found a friend who is the next best thing! Trish and I have A LOT of great memories together over the past 35 years!!
I used to work with Trish in these iris gardens. We’d drag our kids along with us and they would just do whatever they could to get through the day. If you asked them now, they would tell you some of their favorite memories were created at those gardens!
He was SO excited to share his four-leaf clover with me! First one ever found.
The same view from a different standpoint. When I allow my brain to think way hard and deep, like it sometimes does, I think about all of life being like this. What we are used to viewing and observing takes on a whole different feel when it’s viewed from a different standpoint and a different perspective!
The reason for the above pictures. I was on top of The Beast helping Jim replace that auger cover. There was a wear hole in it that had to be repaired. I’m sure glad there was no one around watching the two of us remove it and then put it back in place. 🙂
The kids came over Tuesday afternoon. The summer heat has begun in Eastern Nebraska. We played and played in the pool, ate popsicles and did whatever we could to stay cool. We didn’t put the window air in because we will be leaving soon. Ben was a sticky, sticky mess but it didn’t matter when you could jump in the pool and it all disappeared!
Roasted hotdogs and s’mores for supper! It was so sultry – the fire was just too hot. You can visibly see this on Nora’s face.
Ben was holding down the picnic table while the others were cooking.
Can’t you just hear the evening sounds and smell that wet, damp Eastern Nebraska air?
I bought myself a new iphone 11 mostly for the updated camera. This is the moon, taken during the middle of the night outside the door of the tent. WOW! I can’t wait to take some evening harvest shots with this!
After the other three left yesterday afternoon, Layne came over to play while her mama was taking senior pictures. She was so sweet and so good for me. This was also taken in the complete dark of our bedroom. The camera on this phone is AMAZING! What a sweet angel.

I’m certainly going to miss these days with the kids – all of them! The Cottage on Wheels is parked right outside my back door. The many trips back and forth are about to begin and I’m dreading it.

the old world

I couldn’t sleep this morning after Jim left the house.

He’s still working (unlike so many others right now). I’m guessing his job has always been considered self-isolation and social distancing. He hauls propane in the winter months. Besides maybe running into a homeowner once in awhile, I’m guessing he spends his days pretty much on his own.

While laying there in the dark, I heard what I thought was thunder. This foreign sound I thought I was hearing was interrupting the other sound I was soaking up. The birds were so happy this morning.

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it’s been 22 years

I don’t remember the exact day it happened.

Twenty-two years ago my world came crashing down – for the third time – while in Jordan, Montana.

While we were cutting wheat near Hutchinson, Kansas, I found out we were expecting baby number four. I hadn’t been feeling quite right and suspected that maybe I was pregnant. Maybe. But I wasn’t sick like I had been with the other three. I mean really sick. Sick like hyperemesis sick. Like not being able to quit puking sick.

So I visited the local clinic to be checked out.

“Could you be pregnant?”, they asked. I said, “I guess it’s a possibility.”

I was told to call the clinic back later that day and they would give me the result. Positive. Now…how in the world am I going to tell Jim I’m pregnant? Guess just tell him. 🙂

I never did get as sick as I had been with the others. Maybe that should have been my first clue? I was so excited about my growing belly and the fact that I could continue to take care of my family and “crew” (all of one additional guy) without having to feel like I was going to die.

It’s been long enough ago I’ve forgotten all the details. But what I will never forget is what I was doing the very instant I knew something was wrong. I was attempting to lift a five gallon water jug in the trailer house. We have to buy our water while we’re in Jordan. You don’t want to drink this extra salty, mineral-filled water.

It was a sickening, numbing feeling that instantly hit me. I thought…maybe if I just stop what I’m doing and sit down or lay down it will all go away. I still think about this particular day every time I lift one of those blue five gallon water jugs.

I called Dan the local PA. He told me to come to the clinic immediately and then sent me to Miles City for an ultrasound. I could tell by the look on the face of the gal doing the test that something wasn’t right. But she couldn’t say anything. The doctor confirmed the worst. There was no heartbeat. I immediately felt like I was going to be sick.

It wasn’t immediate but I eventually went into “labor”. I was 13 weeks along. Dan took care of me the entire time I was in the Jordan hospital. Things were different then. And I often think about the baby I lost that year – especially when we pull back into town. I remember feeling like I would never be the same. I would never be able to get over what had just happened. I remember walking the streets of the town late at night trying to understand why this had to happen. Especially so far away from home.

The people of this community were amazing! Dan came to our trailer house several times to check on me. Where else does the doctor make a “house visit” anymore? Or call to see how things are going? People brought food for our little harvest crew until I could get back on my feet. I was blessed to have had this happen where it did. I just didn’t know it at the time.

I find myself thinking about this more so today because of the premature birth of a dear friend’s baby. I had prayed for a miracle for her. She was only 20 weeks pregnant. But there was hope through others who shared their stories of delivering babies this young and they survived. Unfortunately, Henry wasn’t going to grow up here on earth. God had other plans for him. So, as I think about Emma and the emotions she’s going through tonight, it made me think about my own loss. I had two other miscarriages before the last one in Jordan. Each one never easier than the previous one.

I used to remember the due dates. I don’t anymore. All I can remember is that there were three – two between Jenna and Taylor and one between Taylor and Callie. I used to notice pregnant women more than usual. I don’t anymore. I used to wonder if they were boys or girls. I know that one day I will be reunited with them in heaven. They will be waiting for me to arrive and then I will be able to hold them in my arms.

I’ve told Taylor and Callie they must have very important purposes on this earth. If I had carried those babies to term, I would not have had either Taylor or Callie. And, I can’t imagine life without either one of them.

You see, I believe God has a plan for each one of us. And sometimes that plan includes the death of a baby. Doesn’t seem right at all. How could a loving God allow such a thing? He knows. He has the plan, not us. How can we question what He knows? So much doesn’t make sense, but I fully believe that one day it will.

All of this leads up to my final thought. Why do we women feel it so necessary to keep a miscarriage or the loss of a baby quiet? Why is it so important that we don’t tell anyone we’re pregnant until we’re in the second trimester? I understand everyone thinks differently. However, due to the losses I experienced, it would have been much easier to have gone through it with the help of others.

I didn’t tell anyone.

I didn’t think I was supposed to. Was it because I thought others would look at me with questions? Was it taboo to let others know that you were pregnant and now you’re not? I don’t know. I’ve thought about it all so much over the years. When I went through the heartache of miscarriage, there was nothing about it anywhere. Nothing to help the grieving mom and dad understand why it happened. I was so hungry for information to learn about the reason why. There was no google or internet to refer to.

Was it something I did? Was there something wrong with me? Why did I miscarry these babies? What caused this to happen? So many unanswered questions.

If I could give a bit of advice, it would be this…don’t deny yourself the love and care of others. The time you could use support, prayers, sympathy and care is during the moment of loss. Let the world know you’re pregnant right away. If the pregnancy ends with a miscarriage or the death of your baby, you will have the love and support of people who can help carry you through the difficult times. By keeping your pregnancy a secret, you also keep the pain of a loss a secret. That’s so very difficult to get through on your own. Believe me, I know. Being able to talk to someone – anyone – who would listen and would allow me to talk was the best therapy I had.

If you know of someone who is having to go through the loss of a baby, please don’t be afraid to ask them about it. They need you. They need to know you will listen and try to understand.  The pain of losing their baby is no different than dealing with the death of any loved one. It hurts and it takes an awful lot of time to work through the pain. Be there for them – in any way you can.

Time does lessen the pain but the heartache never really goes away – even after 22 years.

 

waiting…waiting…waiting

waiting...waiting...waiting / nebraskawheatie.com

Picture credit – David Luebcke

The stress level on Father’s Day gradually diminished with each day we were able to be in the field. The weirdness of the changes in the combine began to take on a comfortable feeling…one that felt good. It felt like things were falling back into a “normal” sort of state for harvest. For me. Jim, on the other hand, was  (and still is) struggling with the changes to the hydro joystick. It is different but just like anything else, once you take it on and use it as it’s intended, it begins to feel more and more comfortable.

waiting...waiting...waiting / nebraskawheatie.com

The first field we cut in 2018.

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today was father’s day

Father's Day

Our goodbye picture. These little guys will sure change by the time we see them again.

A lot has happened since the last post on here. We went from unknown..to work. For a catch up on what the heck has happened, be sure to visit the All Aboard Wheat Harvest site. I don’t seem to get two blogs written very easily so it’s either one or the other. Just check both. 🙂

Today was Father’s Day.

We made it to Lyons, Kansas yesterday. It seemed like it took forever to gather up all the loose ends and get out the driveway. It was funny, though, how both Jim and I sort of finished up our gathering about the same time. The final item on my list was crossed off just about the same time Jim asked me if I was getting close. It was noon. And it was hot, humid and very hot! We stopped in Plymouth for fuel in my pickup and a bite to eat and then we never stopped again until we reached the farmyard. This was about 8:30 pm.

We quickly parked the Pete and The Beast, gathered up a few items and headed for Lyons to get the trailer house parked. The spot we had picked over a week ago had been taken – even though Jim called a couple of times to reassure the fact that we would have the space. But, no big deal. There was still room, just not under the tree. 🙂

We set up camp and decided we better see if there was a grocery store open. No such luck. But the Dollar General was. So, I ran in while Jim was on the phone and picked up a couple of necessary items – like water, bread and lunchmeat.

Today was Father’s Day.

I kept forgetting today was a special day. Grant (from Kiowa County Media Center) and I had been texting each other before we ever left home. He needed to meet up with us before we got the combine rolling in the wheat to install the HPJ Combine Cam equipment in the cab. The previous setup (what we were all used to) couldn’t work because the cab was all different. Nothing was the same as what we had all been used to. Some people relish in change and upgrades and some do not. I believe Jim and I are probably a few of the ones who do not. What we had before worked and was working just fine (sign of getting old?) so why change? One of the last texts I received from Grant last night was wondering what time he should be to the farmyard. Jim’s reply was the earlier the better. They decided on 8:00 because Grant reminded us that it was, in fact, Father’s Day and he wanted to be able to spend some of the day with his family. CRAP! I had forgotten (and then felt bad).

Today was Father's Day

Today was Father's Day

Today was Father's Day

Today was Father's Day

Today was Father's Day

Grant was at the yard well before 8:00. I’m pretty sure he had it installed within an hour or so and was back on the road, making the two-hour drive back to Greensburg.

All day, he and I played tag with texts trying to get the crazy thing going before it went live. I would be ready to do something and then he had to be away for a while. And then he would be ready to try something and I had to take the truck to town. Seemed like it went back and forth like this all day. Until Jim finally went after the Pete. Then I had a little more time. And we finally did get it set up and ready to go.

Today was Father's Day

These are the sort of screen shots I would send to Grant and he would tell me what step to take next. 🙂

Today was Father’s Day.

The girls each took the time to call their dad – or text him. But he had no time. He was too busy attempting to get everything in the field and doing the job we were here to do. Had they been here with us, they would have been back at camp preparing a nice meal and making special goodies to bring him to the field. That’s how it used to be. But things change and it’s not like it used to be. Each one called and received the same sort of response…”I’m just too busy to talk right now.” But he was thankful they took the time but I know he would have rather had them here.

The stress of this business seems to have really played into how he was feeling today. He really hasn’t been the same since his road trip to Texas, Kansas and Colorado well over a month ago. I have seen him age because of it. It breaks my heart to see him struggle with trying to figure so many things out. Trying to do the job we started doing together 36 years ago. And even I begin to wonder if it’s worth it. And the idea of walking away from everything we both loved about this industry begins to creep into our souls.

Today was Father’s Day.

We had a crazy, stressful day. The first day now feels like it was a month-long. We lost the key to the shop trailer. The header wouldn’t go on the new machine quite as easily as the previous machine. Frank had a few things in the box that needed to be unloaded. Multiple trips were made from one place to another in the heat of the day. The combine had a minor issue (it fixed itself). And there were combines running all around us. We should have been here a couple of days earlier. But who would have known? The wheat ripened extra fast after we were here the first time. (Lots of 100 degree days and strong south winds did that.)  About four days sooner than we had planned. And the stress could be seen in Jim’s eyes. I tried to do all I could but the mind can sometimes just make everything worse when you focus on all that has to be done. It’s overwhelming and you just want to walk away.

But we didn’t. We kept pushing and moving and doing and pretty soon, we were starting to get into a groove. Things were starting to feel “normal” again.

Today was Father's Day

Today was Father's Day

Today was Father's Day

I really do feel sorry for those who have never experienced the sweet smell of wheat coming out from the back of a truck!

Today was Father’s Day.

As I took the last load of the day to the elevator, I got really emotional. This way of life has been what I’ve known – what we’ve known. I looked at the lights of the combines, trucks and grain carts as I made my way to town and my heart swelled with love for what we do. What we GET to do. The coolness of the evening took me back to the days of being a young girl on harvest. The sweet smell of the cut wheat brought back a memory that involved young kids and babies and hauling meals and chasing parts and being a part of a team. Pulling into the elevator at the end of a long, stress-filled day gave me a sense of a job well done.

We made it through the first day!

Today was Father's Day

As I thought about all these memories and smells and sights, I felt like I really needed to try to soak it all up. But I just don’t know how to effectively do that. I know we’re getting older with each harvest that we meet head-on. I know our days are probably limited to getting to experience what harvest is all about and this saddens me. This is something I never thought about before. Not when we had so many years ahead of us.

Today was Father’s Day.

I didn’t get my Dad called because we were so busy. But I know he knows that. He knows what being on harvest and doing this job is all about. And I know he will forgive me. Because he knows that not everyone can take a day off work to celebrate – he’s lived it.  I’ll just call him another day and wish him a late Happy Father’s Day. But…I’ll also tell him now. Happy Father’s Day, Dad!

Today was Father's Day

My Dad.

harvest18…what’s in store for the zcrew?

The yellow rose is blooming.

harvest18

The rose-ometer is telling us it’s time to be heading south. Wishing we were joining those fortunate enough to have something to head there for!

In past years, this was the indicator that it was time to be packing the trailer house, getting equipment loaded and heading south.

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next stop…colorado and millet harvest

If you’ve been following the All Aboard Wheat Harvest, you know we’ve been north of Chester, Montana working for a farmer. We left the Beast, Frank and the Pete in Chadron for a bit of an adventure somewhere in the middle of Montana.

Just a month ago, I stayed with Eli and Nora while Jamie, Curt and Ben were in the hospital. But, as soon as they got home late Wednesday night, it was time to go back to work mode. There was wheat to cut in Montana!! We had hired on with Mattson Farms to help them get their harvest done. We left for Montana the very next day.

The first time Jim held Ben – just before we had to tell him goodbye.

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and baby makes three

If you’ve been following along with the All Aboard Wheat Harvest harvest blog updates, you’ll know that we’re home. Something that is unheard of for this time of year. The last time I was home in July was in 1989…Jamie was 4 and Jenna just a little more than a year. The weirdest part of the whole deal was thinking about how much work it took to get ready to go and then only being away for like 42 days. But, God had a different plan for us.

In November, when Jamie announced to us she was expecting, I immediately counted the months and was so disappointed when I realized that baby #3 was going to be born while we were somewhere in the middle of a wheat field. We SHOULD be in Colorado at that time. Maybe I can get a few days away and come home to help. Little did I know, God’s plan had us coming home at just the right time! We cut as many acres as we could and with the last few days of being away the anxiety started to set in. I was concerned about making it home on time. Baby was due July 17…we didn’t leave Chadron until July 19th. But God had every single, little detail perfectly orchestrated to allow us to be home at the exact moment.

Back to the land of corn and soybeans.

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time

Time…something that seems to run our lives and there’s NEVER enough of it!

I always think I’m going to take the time to write an update on my personal blog and it just doesn’t get done. It seems that I have sort of pushed my own blog aside to write for www.allaboardharvest.com. But that’s okay. I’m sure you remember me telling you that if you don’t see something on here for long periods of time, you should check that site.  So…go check it out! I’ve written several times on there already. You might even enjoy reading some of the other harvest updates from the other correspondents.

Just so you know, we did make it to our destination. It will be two weeks on Monday that we arrived. It was a bit slow around here for the next four days or so. And then…all heck broke loose. We started cutting wheat on Saturday (a week ago). Today (6/16) was our seventh consecutive day of cutting wheat. I think we may have broken some all-time record for the most acres cut in one week! 🙂 The temps have been near 100 degrees or more and we can expect one more day of the heat. On Father’s Day (just for Jim) it’s supposed to reach a high of only 85 degrees.

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concerned…yet hopeful

The yellow roseometer is telling us it’s about that time to load up and head south. 

Grandpa always said, “Wheat will die at least seven times before it is harvested”. Therefore, I am going to remain hopeful for the 2017 crop. Concerned…yet hopeful.

I’ve heard this quote often lately with the weather extremes that have been occurring in the wheat belt. So…it must be true to continue to be believed by the wheat community. The wheat in western Kansas and eastern Colorado is on its fourth or fifth death by now.

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