How I Met the Farmer
the abbreviated story of how I ended up on a farm, the NFL draft, and some of my favorite things this month || April newsletter 🌱
Last Saturday, between scrubbing the floors, washing the windows, and cleaning the kitchen cabinets, I kept checking the NFL Draft online. I had never watched, nor cared about, the draft until this year. However, a player from our college team was projected to be drafted, which is not a regular occurrence for guys from our small university.
I wasn’t planning to deep clean the house last weekend, but in a “if you give a mouse a cookie” situation, the dog came in the house very dirty, which was a nudge to clean the (already dirty) floors. I put my AirPods in and sent the kids outside to play on this sunny day, then I got to work. While mopping, I noticed how smudged the windows were, so after the floors were mopped, I washed all the windows. And then, since I was in full-on cleaning mode, I decided I should do another job I had been procrastinating on—scrubbing the kitchen cabinets. I kept the windows open for most of the day to let in fresh air, which made the whole house feel cleaner.
We don’t have live TV right now (because football season is over), so I couldn’t watch the draft live. But I found a website that posted updates as each pick came in. So, between scrubbing the house, I went to my laptop, refreshing the page, hoping to see Tommy’s name on the list.
Even now, I feel weird saying Tommy played for “our college” because it isn’t the university I went to. Rich graduated with two degrees from Montana State University, but both of mine came from other universities. But I don’t know how else to describe MSU—other than it’s “our” team.
It’s where we met.
At the time, Rich and I were both years past college. He was 32, I was 28.1 Either during college or before, I fell in love with the idea of marrying my college sweetheart. I thought it would be so romantic to meet during college, and then, shortly after donning our caps and gowns, we would trade them for a suit and white dress. But that dream went by the wayside many years earlier.
I was working as a school counselor at Bozeman High School, and Rich had been working on his family farm for several years after graduating from college (and doing a stint as a CPA in Portland and another accounting firm in Montana). But he kept his season football tickets, making the several-hour drive to the Gallatin Valley a few times each fall.
Without going into all the details (and making this post a novel), I had not noticed Rich. We ran in the same circle of friends, friends I had met through my then-boyfriend. But Rich lived a few hours away, only seeing this group of friends when he came for a game, and I had a boyfriend the whole time. That fall, I was newly single, but I still tailgated with the same group of friends (yes, awkward at times) on Saturday mornings.
One Saturday in late November, a group of us (two couples + me) planned to make the trip across the state for the biggest rivalry game of the year, known as Cat/Griz to us Montanans. But that morning, someone I wasn’t expecting arrived to load into the pickup with us, Rich. I recognized him, but had never had a conversation with him before that day.
Long story short, I spent the day uninterested in him, while he was interested in me. 🫠 He later told me he knew I would be on that road trip, so he overpaid for a ticket to the game—just for the chance to spend the day with me.
We went our separate ways that evening after the Cats won. I didn’t plan on seeing him again, or think about him, to be honest. But two weeks later, Rich returned to Bozeman for a playoff game on a very cold December night. We spent the evening talking and laughing, watching the Cats win, giving them another chance to play: a loss meant the end of the season.
At the end of the night, we went our separate ways again, but this time, he messaged me on Facebook after I went home, because we had not exchanged phone numbers.
Over the next week, we talked on the phone every night and texted throughout the day. He asked if he could pick me up for the playoff game that Friday night. I said yes. Our first date.
The Cats lost the game that night, but there was enough spark between us to keep going, despite the season ending.
By the end of December, I had made two trips to the farm (the first time is a story for another day about driving to the middle of literal nowhere in the dark with my new boyfriend), and he came to Wyoming to meet my family the day after Christmas. We started looking at rings in January. He came back to Wyoming in mid-January for my beloved aunt’s funeral, a woman he had met once a couple of weeks earlier. We were engaged in March, four days after my 29th birthday. We dated long-distance from December to June, when I moved to the closest nearby town after my school year had ended. We married that September, choosing a date that didn’t conflict with fall seeding or home Bobcat football games.
Hours into the final day of the draft, with all my windows sparkling and floors clean, Tommy’s name was called during the sixth round. By then, I had let the kids return to the house, but Rich was still working in the field. I screamed, and the kids came running down the hall. “What happened, Mom? What’s the matter?”
I shouted, “Tommy got drafted! The Raiders picked him!” All three kids started jumping up and down, immediately asking if I could buy them Raiders jerseys. (In their defense, we are a college football family, so none of us is partial to any NFL team.2 But now, we have one to excitedly root for.)
There’s something special about college football. I love the camaraderie of people from all different walks of life, all gathered to cheer for the same team on a crisp Saturday morning. I love tailgating—the time spent with friends. But I also love the stories from off the field. Players from a tiny town you’ve never heard of until they’re announced over the loudspeaker as they run out onto the green turf, the sun shining, the crowd roaring.
I’d never watched the draft before, but I was fully invested, hoping and dreaming that this guy I’ve never met—but watched play on Saturdays for the last four years—would get drafted. And I know many Montanans felt the same way.
Maybe it’s because I’m a mom, and honestly, old enough to be Tommy’s mom. But I couldn’t help picturing him sitting on the couch in his childhood home, surrounded by his parents, family, and friends. I imagine he sat there wondering if the infinite hours in the gym, the injuries, the blood, sweat, and tears would be enough to hear his name called again. I thought of his mom sitting next to him, the countless practices she drove him to, the jerseys she washed, the camps she signed him up for, and the times she encouraged him after a loss. I imagine watching him play feels like watching her heart walk out on the field every time he straps on his helmet.
I can only imagine the elation Tommy and his family felt, hearing his name called. Realizing a childhood dream come true—the chance to play on Sundays.
Nearly 12 years later, we still have season tickets and take our kids to the games, back to the place we met. We’re sharing our combined love of football with them, adding stories and memories each Saturday.
Even though Rich and I didn’t meet in college, MSU is woven into our storyline—making it our team.
And that’s how I accidentally fell in love with a farmer and ended up cleaning my farmhouse on a Saturday while watching the NFL Draft.
Farm Happenings
The farm crew finished seeding last week. They planted spring wheat, chickpeas, lentils, and alfalfa. But, earlier this week, Rich was asked to do a trial seeding for a new variety of chickpeas, so they’ll be seeding again, but it won’t take long. These new chickpeas are supposed to be higher in protein than regular chickpeas, so they could be a high-protein hummus snack in the future! I’ll report back at harvest how they turn out.
At the beginning of the month, we branded the third and final herd of calves. The kids and I all helped out, with Allie and I working in the back, pushing the calves up (and getting kicked in the shins). Rhett got a workout in at the front, pushing the calves the rest of the way up. Nora ate lots of candy and played in the dirt.
This week, the ranch crew is AI’ing (artificial insemination), and the bulls are out with the cows to breed the rest of the cows. My sister-in-law does all of the AI’ing and does an amazing job.
Up next: continuing AI’ing, tending to the weeds, and hauling the cattle to summer pasture. 🌱
Things I’m Loving . . .
I read some really good books this month, and I’m slowly making my way through a few others. I loved Broken Country, which was sad but beautiful. I listened to the audiobook of Abby Jimenez’s newest book, Say You’ll Remember Me. I’ve read mixed reviews, but thought it was an enjoyable, fluffy read/listen. After watching the Hulu docuseries about Ruby Franke, I read her daughter’s memoir, The House of My Mother, by Shari Franke. The story is so sad, and the abuse went above and beyond what was documented in the series.
I’m currently reading Dear Writer, taking it in slowly, and using it as a resource when editing my own writing. I’m listening to Emily Henry’s newest book, Great Big Beautiful Life, and love it so far. I’m also reading early copies of
’s book, The Last Parenting Book You’ll Ever Read, and ’s first book, Holding On and Letting Go. Both books release on May 6th!Meagan is hosting a virtual book tour, and she’ll be stopping by Montana to chat with me on Tuesday! I’ll go live on Substack, Tuesday, May 6th at 9:30 a.m. MST to chat with Meagan! (More on this below.)
I realize that there is no fruit in thinking this much about what others think about me. I also know the pain of being on the outskirts—of wanting to be invited into a certain group and knowing it just isn’t going to happen. I know how that kind of rejection (even if it is not intended) scrapes against the heart like sand paper. -
Who doesn’t love a ranch romance that’s sort of like a soap opera? If that’s you, you’ll love Netflix’s new series, Ransom Canyon. I sadly finished The Pitt this month, and can’t wait for season 2.
During college, one of my favorite shows was What Not to Wear on TLC. My roommates and I would watch it together all the time. And now, Stacy and Clinton are back with a reboot! All eight episodes of Wear Whatever the F You Want are on Amazon Prime.
I bought the big kids Kanoodles for their Easter baskets, and they were a big hit, keeping them busy on the six-hour car ride home.
In the end, we’d rather our kids say, “Dad played with me,” or “Mom let me help her cook every time I asked,” than to conclude, with slumped shoulders and an emotional backpack full of rocks: “They were good writers, I guess, if you care about that sort of thing.” -
I can never find a phone charger in the car when I need one, so I bought this portable charger, which has come in handy many times since I bought it earlier this month. And it can charge multiple devices at once!
Shameless self-promotion: I participated in
’s Forty Something interview series, which was really fun. I also posted a couple of times on IG, which I cross-posted here on Notes.
That’s it for me this month. The story about Rich and me wasn’t what I planned to share this month, but I started writing, and that came out. Thanks to
for commenting on a recent Note of mine, saying she would like to hear more about how Rich and I met.I’ve never gone live on Substack, so wish me luck! I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a little nervous. Do you have questions you want me to ask Meagan about her new book? The process of writing a book? Raising five kids? Podcasting? Raising chickens? Let me know in the comments (or DM me), and I’ll ask her next week!
Your turn, what have you been reading? Watching? Do you like football? How long did you and your spouse date before getting married?
Until next time,
Stacy
I feel like our age matters as the story progresses. I will remind my kids of this if needed in the future.
I cheer for the Bills because of Josh Allen, a fellow alum of the University of Wyoming. But I’m not a die-hard fan.
Such a sweet story!! I love that he overpaid for the ticket to the game just to spend more time with you!
I thoroughly enjoyed that whole newsletter and added a couple books to my TBR :) I met my hubby in college, I just turned 18 and he was still 17 using a fake ID to get into bars (legal drinking age 18 in Alberta). We dated for 9 years before we got married at 27, bought land near the family farm and started a family. I just read Frozen River and highly recommend it! The majority of it was read in the pasture while watching heifers calve.