Perspective · Uncategorized

Spring in the Midwest – USA

If you follow my blog, you’ll have gathered previously that I live in a “fly-over” state. Miles of cropland, small towns, and tall concrete grain elevators dot the landscape. Rolling gradual hills and small creeks, gravel and dirt roads, and limestone fences posts are the view.

We are on a rollercoaster this spring. Depths of winter to the heights of spring, then back down to winter, then back up to spring.

Today, I have the office door open. It’s beautiful and sunny out. Our high is forecasted as 89 degrees F. I can hear birds. The air smells fresh. Our Bradford pear tree is trying to bloom.

When winter comes in again tomorrow night, it will feel like a villain with icy teeth and a cackling windy laugh. It will shrivel the spring plants that have just emerged. Children and parents at the soccer fields Saturday morning will hide in their cars between games. Teeth chattering, they’ll brave the cold to cheer and play. We’ll do the same on Sunday afternoon for our baseball scrimmage.

tempThis is our week’s forecast April 12-18.

Without the lows, I wouldn’t appreciate the highs. Right?


I’ll just keep telling myself that.

Summer will come eventually and sweltering heat will settle on us. We’ll all be wishing for the crispness of cooler weather.

And so keep riding the rollercoaster of seasons in the Midwest.



I have been called eclectic. Not short green hair eclectic, but eclectic in my tastes. Honestly, I’m not brave enough to go green or any non-traditional color. Sometimes I’m not sure whether to blame (negative) or attribute (positive) my tastes to my upbringing. My music playlists raise some eyebrows…

I am from the Midwest. No, not Chicago-style Midwest. I always shudder when I hear a news anchor refer to Chicago as being in the Midwest. Maybe geographically, but definitely not when speaking lifestyle. I am from the rural Midwest – population of our nearest small town – 45. Population of our nearest large town  ~3000.


adjective \ˈru̇r-əl\

: of or relating to the country and the people who live there instead of the city

Around here, farming is the basis for EVERYTHING. Not small garden farming. Actual 100’s if not 1000’s of acres per family. I grew up driving a tractor, delivering piglets for a penny each, digging musk thistles, feeding cattle, picking fruit in the orchard, canning tomatoes, swimming in the pond, etc. Church on Sunday – no excuses. How old am I? No, not 80. Try 31.

I didn’t realize that my tastes or my upbringing were so different from the norm until I reached college. All my friends growing up did all the same things I did. Strange thing, when I started at my alma mater, I realized that not everyone listened to country music, sang gospel songs, could feel the swells of emotion in the crescendos of the orchestra, but also pretended to rap on the 2 hr drive to and from college. Not everybody could sing all the words to a song by Three Dog Night but also lip-sync a mean Pink.

Many of the students were from large cities (Kansas City, Lincoln NE, Denver CO, Dallas TX, Las Vegas NV) When I told people where I was from, they would refer to me as from “Western Kansas.” Not so much. I only live halfway across the state. They were intrigued at the idea of farm-work and starting such work at a young age. “It isn’t called work” according to my mother. It is called “Contributing to the family.” (this is a whole new blog entry!)

Now that I have my own children, I read articles about parenting. I realize that I am still considered “eclectic” in how I apply my traditional views. Do we attend church every Sunday? Yes, we try to. Am I freakish about washing hands and germs in the house? Usually, but I do realize that a really good roll in the mud is healthy for my children. My son enjoys hunting with his dad and cooking with me. He likes to sing “My God Is So Big” and LMFAO’s “Party Rock.” He does a mean break-dance. My daughter can grunt like a buck – impressively. She also charms people with her truly tiny frame and high pitched voice, then wraps them up and tackles them with strikingly athletic form.

I’d like to think that “eclectic” can also mean well-rounded in my experiences and how I am raising my kids. I hope they absorb at least some of the eclectic tastes that my upbringing instilled in me through the way we are raising them. The world takes all-kinds-of-kinds to go around.