Laura Unearthed

Our farm baby loves one Saturday morning show about a chicken puppet in a costume shop.   Snuggling my girl, watching that show, a roar shook the windows one morning. No cause for alarm… we occasionally see a military plane fly over.   … … … rrrrRRRRROOOOOAAAAARRRrrrrr… … … … rrrrRRRRROOOOOAAAAARRRrrrrr… … … … … … rrrrRRRRROOOOOAAAAARRRrrrrr… … … … rrrrRRRRROOOOOAAAAARRRrrrrr… … … It takes a lot to elicit a reaction from me.   I may be the compassionate, bleeding-heart type personality; however, dramatic I am not.   After the fifth pass, I grew curious.   After the sixth or seventh, I batted away scary scenarios rolling through my mind.   After the tenth, I finally unwound the toddler and got up to look out the window. Here’s my view.   My immediate reaction: How cool!   We live and farm in a mix of hills and creek bottoms.   Unlike our friends to the south, we don’t often see a crop duster.   What a treat! Almos...

It’s not just clickbait.   The farmer really said to me, “a miracle happened today,” as he hopped in the passenger side of my vehicle to grab his supper.   Let me fill you in… my farmer can tend to exaggerate his stories a bit.   However, his demeanor was possibly the most chipper I’ve witnessed all spring… Spring 2015 blew in with rain, rain, rain… and more rain.   One dry week allowed for planting of corn and milo.   Then, you guessed it: more rain.   Soybean planting began on rare dry days.   We were grateful to get seeds planted, but spraying was another challenge.   One particular bottom field stayed too wet to spray all spring, so weed management became particularly trying.     Persistence paid off (insert sarcasm), and just after cleaning up the weeds, planting, and spraying… the creek opted to expand its borders:   Then, in a week, we received five to six more inches of rain, in addition to the wate...

I’ve been in an unpleasant mood for a few days... This topic tends to draw forth a bit of passion in me.   And the passion turns to anger... so I considered abandoning the issue altogether. But… someone wise once told me that if you want to find and fulfill your passion, start with what makes you angry.  (The ability to calm that anger and turn it into productivity is the key.) Last week, Time posted an excerpt from Sir Ken Robinson’s new book Creative Schools , titled “WhySchools Need to Bring Back Shop Class.”   I vaguely remember the mention of Sir Ken in my Master’s Degree classes, and the professor that urged us to follow him on Twitter… but I was busy teaching , unknowingly trying to accomplish exactly what Sir Ken was promoting: engaging the marginalized, stereotyped kids in our midst. “Viewing vocational programs as second-rate is one of the most corrosive problems in education.” – Sir Ken Robinson Don’t.I.know.it.   Vocational teachers are...

Cooking, cleaning, wiping bottoms… no doubt, mothers deserve a day of honor.   Pitching straw bales, steadying oneself after a spirited cow knocks you around, hauling an assortment of dirty, gross farm items in your car… the list of sacrifice grows deeper for a farm mom.   For those of us growing up on the farm, we often take for granted that our mothers performed at a different pace with unique challenges.   I remember fondly the adventure of running cows back to the barn as my mother and I were on our way to the Easter Sunrise Service in our Sunday best.   I would guess she doesn’t remember it with the same affection.   I know now why she emphatically repeated to me, attempting to engrain on my memory, the best practices for removing caked on, five-day-old manure stains from our good “cattle show” jeans.   (Lay pants out on basement floor, douse with stain pre-treat, wait, soak in wash sink with detergent, wait... again, get new water with detergent ...