Marriage is an Adventure
Montana to California and everywhere in between 💛 || February newsletter
I’m writing this (in my notebook) while sitting in an old farm pickup thirty miles from home. The pickup is parked in front of a row of silver bins, white snowflakes coming down. Nora is sitting on my lap, playing with Play-Doh that she snuck into her backpack. Rich is outside, hooking fans up to the bins, getting air to the barley from last summer’s harvest.
This morning, while cleaning the bathrooms after the kids went to school, Rich came into the house. Raising an eyebrow, he asked, “Are you up for an adventure?”
I gave him a side eye, wondering what he had in mind. An “adventure” on the farm could mean many things, but usually, it means he needs my help. The definition of adventure is often subject to interpretation.
I thought of my to-list for the day, the phone calls I needed to make, the newsletter I wanted to write. He explained where we were going but not much else. I said yes without knowing exactly what I was saying yes to.
A few weeks ago, Rich and I boarded a plane in Montana before dawn. At 9 a.m., we were wheels down in San Diego. Without a plan for our day, I pulled up the Uber app, which I downloaded on the flight. Within minutes, we put our bags in the back of a waiting car and went to our hotel.
I turned 21 in San Diego (my birthday always fell over Spring Break in college), and I’ve been there several times since then. But it had been years since my last trip. This time, we were in the city for an Ag conference Rich was invited to, and I went as his guest. The meetings didn’t start until the following morning, so we had the day to ourselves.
Truthfully, I hesitated to say yes to the trip. I thought of the kids’ school schedules, after-school activities, and Rich’s family wrangling three kids for three days. I felt guilty leaving, despite my love of travel and the thought of visiting California in the winter. Eventually, I said yes, accepting my in-law’s gift of childcare.
After checking into our hotel room, we walked a short distance down the harbor in search of lunch. We found tacos and beer and ate overlooking the water. After lunch, we continued walking toward the USS Midway Museum. We boarded the 1,000-foot long, 70,000-ton carrier ship and walked all the levels—from the engines to the barbershop to the barracks where the crew slept.
Later that day, we took another Uber to Mission Beach. I briefly put my toes in the sand, walked along the boardwalk, ate gelato, and bought the kids souvenirs.
Whenever I travel, I’m reminded how different my life is at home. And maybe everyone feels that way when they go on a trip. But there’s such a stark contrast between rural and urban life that’s easy to forget about when I’m at home, going about my everyday routine.
In San Diego, we were surrounded by people everywhere we went. I could call for a ride on an app, and within minutes, a stranger would arrive to take us to our next destination. Any kind of food, shopping, or adventure was within walking distance.
At home, I could walk all day and still not get to town. According to Google Maps, it would take 13 hours and 25 minutes to walk to the nearest small town. Story has it that my husband’s great-uncle, who worked and lived on this land before us, trotted his horse once a week to town to get the mail and was back to the ranch by lunch. He went “as the crow flies,” cutting across the prairie, not following a road. But still, I can’t imagine trotting a horse that far in a day—but he went just to get the mail, to see other humans.
When we drove the 30 gravel miles to the bins full of barley this morning, we didn’t see one pickup on the road. No people, just a flock of geese in a field and bulls in another pasture. I didn’t have cell service the whole morning. It was just the three of us listening to AM radio.
When I said “yes” to the adventure this morning, it reminded me of saying yes to getting married. I wholeheartedly said yes when Rich got down on one knee and asked me to marry him. But looking back, of course, I didn’t know exactly what I was saying yes to. I had an idea of what marriage would be like and the family I hoped we would have.
I said yes to a future with the person I loved—but I could only see so far down the road. We didn’t know what bumps or potholes we’d encounter. We didn’t know what the first year of marriage would be like until long after the wedding dress was cleaned and put away.
We all have our assumptions, hopes, and dreams. But plans don’t always turn out as we hoped. There are heartbreaks, challenges, and unmet expectations. But hopefully, we’re met with surprises, too—parts of our stories we didn’t expect when we said yes.
Sometimes, my adventures look like a trip across the country, riding in an overpriced pedicab with my husband after dinner. Other adventures are a morning trip across the county, helping him hook fans to the bins, and then driving the pickup home while he follows in a tractor.
Maybe that’s what marriage is—saying yes to adventures big and small, exciting and mundane.
It’s how we choose to see them.
Farm Happenings
We’re still calving! But we’re on the downhill slide. We have about 100 cows still to calve, and we will be done in the next few weeks. At our peak, we had between 30-40 calves a day; now, we have ten or under a day. It’s a relief for the crew, as the days and weeks feel like Groundhog’s Day in the barn.
We went on a run with twins, and last I heard, we had over 30 sets. We sold several of them to other ranchers who needed calves. Beef cattle generally cannot keep two calves on them; they don’t provide enough milk. Sometimes, they pick a “favorite” calf and completely ignore the other one; some will even get aggressive, knocking the calf away when it tries to nurse.
My mother-in-law has continued making lunch daily for the crew, with everyone gathering in her kitchen. I’ve filled in for her a handful of times, making lunch at home and then taking it to her house to serve at noon.
My niece took this video of my sister-in-law and I helping a heifer calve. This heifer worked so, so hard. I had flashbacks of having my first baby and how I swore he was never going to come out. 😆 Most cows will stand up when the calf starts to come out, but she was just so tired. We each grabbed a leg and gently pulled as she pushed.
Since calving is slowing down, the crew is starting to haul grain to town again. The guys have been working in the shop, preparing for spring seeding—which I can’t believe is right around the corner. The green sprouts of winter wheat are popping up, a reminder of the growth that happens even when we can’t see it in the dark, cold months. 🌱
Things I’m Loving . . .
Writing by hand with a mechanical pencil. In December, I started writing everything in my journal, and then, if it was an essay or newsletter I wanted to publish, I typed it out on my computer later. A writer I look up to has sung the praises of writing by hand for years, and I’m finally on board and feel like it’s made me write more. And a few weeks ago, this article popped up in my newsfeed saying writing by hand is better for your brain. 🤯
I’m still in my Reading Slump Era (can I use the term ‘eras’ even if I’m not a Swiftie?). Swifties, report back. I find that when I write more, I read less, and vice versa. I would like to have time for both, but it’s a struggle.
Books I’m slowly working my way through or already finished are The Farmer’s Wife: My Life in Days (which wasn’t what I expected, TBH), The Rural Diaries (which is a fun and easy read, especially if you were a fan of the TV show One Tree Hill), and I’m about to start One Two Three.
I love pre-ordering books (it’s a great way to support authors!), and it’s exciting when a new book comes in the mail that I forgot I ordered. 🤣 A few books I’ve pre-ordered and am looking forward to are The Opt-Out Family: How to Give Your Kids What Technology Can’t, It Wasn’t Roaring, It Was Weeping: Interpreting the Language of Our Fathers Without Repeating Their Stories, and this gratitude journal by Meagan & Sarah from The Mom Hour (which I got an early copy of!), that would make a great Mother’s Day gift. It comes out next week!
I loved and related to this post about storytelling being a form of hospitality. This new mini-series from Risen Motherhood is so good and worth the listen. I didn’t marry my teenage dream (thank goodness), but I loved this essay about young love with reminders of my youth. Speaking of being (or not being) a Swiftie, this essay beautifully weaves Taylor Swift and Brandi Carlile and motherhood and marriage. “On and on the eras tumble, one after the other, the love story of where we’ve been. Every stumble, every mishap, every shift in the routine, we learned to weave our way back to each other, to draw in close.” —
The kids had a long weekend from school last week, and we binged several episodes of Is it Cake Too? It’s hard to find a show all three kids will sit and watch, and that doesn’t bore me to tears. This one entertained us all.
In 2022, a friend and I co-founded and hosted our first StrongHer Together: A Conference for Women in Agriculture. Apparently, we are crazy enough to do it again! Our second conference will be this November. If you’re in Montana, follow our Facebook page for speaker announcements (we’ve got some great ones!) and registration details. I won’t share much about it here but wanted to plug it at least once.
Lastly, I was invited to be a guest on the Farming on Purpose podcast, and my episode “Processing the Good and the Hard of Farm Life & Motherhood” dropped last week.
Thank you all for your kind words on my last post about hospitality and the name change to my Substack! In true fashion of my previous Substack name, I overthought it for a long time. But I think it feels right. ❤️
What adventures—big or small—have you gone on recently? Any fiction books you recommend that I wouldn’t be able to put down? 🤪 Anything surprising you’ve learned about calving? Farm/ranch friends, when do you start calving?
Enjoy the extra day in February!
Until next month,
Stacy
My goodness. My brain exploded when you said that to get to town is a 13 hour walk. How long does it take to drive??
Writing by hand is so much better! There is too much pressure with a Google doc. But on the page words tumble out and it doesn't matter because no one will see them. I recently read I'm Glad My Mom Died by Jennette McCurdy, Yellowface by Rebecca F Kuang, and Leaving Blackwood by Khaiah Thomson. I smashed through all of them in a day each after a looooong reading slump and getting bored of books halfway through (which never happens).
“It’s how we choose to see them.” Love that 💛 and, yes to writing with mechanical pencils forever and always.