Fun on the “Farm”
As you know, we just returned from a week in my hometown of Scottsbluff Nebraska.
While the highlight of the week was my best friend Erika’s super-spectacular wedding (and the events that surrounded), we had lots of time to hang with my parents, The Gagas, on the farm.
Ok, so it’s not really a farm, as in they don’t actually farm anything like corn or wheat. But it’s a farm in our eyes since prior to buying those 40 acres of land on which stands a house, three barns, a stable, corrals, and an irrigation ditch, we lived in a suburb of Pittsburgh, PA. Before that Chicago. Before that New Jersey, Dallas, and St. Louis.
Needless to say, Western Nebraska was a pretty big change for my family.
Now, 20 years later, my parents are still there, on the farm. And they’ve raised some crops!
A crop of the friendliest rescue cats you’ll ever meet.
A crop of guinea fowl who help control the grasshopper population.
A crop of vegetables in the garden.
And a crop of friends they wouldn’t give up in a million years.
These are guinea fowl. Ethan was totally obsessed with checking on them constantly.
I did not know, had NO inkling, when I drove away that morning in 1999 to start college across the state, that one day I would bring my family back to The Farm and appreciate it for all the adventures it provides.
Ethan LOVES exploring with the Gagas (that’s what he started calling my parents, all on his own, after me saying “Grandma/Grandpa” a billion times). Each morning after breakfast, they checked on the guineas and all (8?) of the kitties, stopping only to pet the super-friendly-not-afraid-of-toddlers ones like Midnight.
They would pull all the scrap wood out of the bin and then put it all back in.
They played with some old toys (see my Duplo lego set there? Circa 1985) Gaga found in the stacks of boxes filling the garage.
We found critters hopping around to catch and examine.
And they snuck in snuggles whenever possible.
While we stayed VERY busy with wedding itinerary and on The Farm, Stu and I did sneak in a little relaxing…
There was even time for a dinner party at Susie’s with a very fancy table set for the Little Men…Carter belongs to my friends Nate and Sara. He’s three, absolutely precious, and has this “civilized eating” thing down. Ethan was a mess, but we enjoyed the show.
It was a fantastic trip. Visiting Scottsbluff never disappoints. It’s taken many years, but I’ve gotten over the fact that people audibly guffaw when I say I’m from Nebraska. “Lotta Corn!” is a typical response. Or “So are you a Cornhusker fan?!”
Both true statements, but also sum up what people know about this state nestled in the heart of America.
They just don’t know what they’re missing. I like that this state’s beauty, history, and friendly citizens are a well kept secret. And The Farm is like a private ranch-resort to which we escape.
Where my boy can get filthy dirty, control the hose for hours, throw sand all over the yard, chase a pack of giant birds, and walk around all afternoon with his fish magnets (or “Gee-a” as he calls them…I don’t for the life of me know why).
Those things in his hands are the fish magnets. Obsessed.
The Farm is also, apparently, a place where my child rarely wears pants.