The morning starts like any other Saturday—loud and early. Except, it was the first Saturday I’d been home in three weeks. So maybe, it felt extra loud and chaotic compared to the weekend before when I woke up in Chicago with friends and the Saturday before when I boarded a plane for a day trip with Rich for a football game in a neighboring state. But on this day, without big plans ahead of us and the long days of light behind us—the 6 a.m. wake-up feels a little more harsh, the blackness outside the house deep.
Nora climbs out of her crib despite putting the mattress on the crib floor just the night before. She tiptoes down the hall with her blankie tucked under her arm, rubbing sleep from her eyes, and asks, “Is it morning?”
“Sweet child, it’s pitch black outside; please go back to bed,” I say, or I think it—I’m not sure which. But she isn’t interested. The big kids tumble down the hall and up the stairs from their respective rooms, one by one.
I don’t even know what kicked off the fighting. But, with siblings, there often isn’t a reason. They can’t agree on what show to watch or who gets to sit on “the one chair at the table that is our favorite chair for no good reason!” at breakfast, someone’s feet are touching someone else’s. All of it is just bad and awful.
And terribly loud.
Around 8 o’clock, Rich says, “Everyone, get your boots on! We’re going for a walk!” Without pausing to think or ask questions, I put the dirty bowl I’m holding in the dishwasher, close the dishwasher door, and leave the rest of the dishes in the sink.
I help Nora find her pants and boots. Allie grunts and heaves, trying to slip on her winter boots, but as she tugs and tugs, I know where this is going—they’re too small. I make a mental note that I’ll need to get her new boots, and we find an old pair of Rhett’s boots that will work in the muddy fields surrounding our house.
One by one, we walk out the back door, following Rich like a flock of geese, geese that, for the moment, have stopped pecking at one another. Wordlessly, we stop at the chicken coop. He opens the door, and each hen flies from the coop into the crisp fall air. I pick up a shovel, scoop the soiled straw, and dump it into a nearby wagon. Without me asking, Rich takes the full wagon away, discarding the straw onto the nearby freshly turned soil, where he plans to plant trees this spring. Rhett spreads clean straw on the floor of the coop while Allie collects the eggs.
Once the coop is clean, we all start to walk again. Fog hangs low all around us, the grass still wet with dew. It’s not cold, but it’s not hot either. I dare say it is the perfect fall temperature. Soon, Nora exclaims she cannot walk any further, and Rhett stops, turns around, and asks, “Want me to carry you?”
He hoists her onto his front and begins to walk again. Her feet hang below his knees; her arms wrap around his neck. His steps are slow but sure.
It’s quiet. No wind, no bickering—complete silence on the prairie. We keep walking toward a newly planted field. The green blades poke up through the dark brown soil—the winter wheat is coming up.
Soon, Rhett puts Nora down but takes her hand, and Allie grabs her other hand. The three of them walk ahead of us. They ask each other questions and help Nora climb a small hill, making sure she doesn’t fall. They talk like friends. Rich taps me on the shoulder, then nods toward the trio and whispers, “See this? We’ve got to enjoy it while we can.”
I nod and smile, and we take each other’s hands, strolling behind them, not wanting to disturb this rare and peaceful moment. Three days before was our 10th anniversary, a day that passed by with little fanfare other than the cake I baked to celebrate. We spent the Thursday evening doing homework with the middle child, practicing spelling with the oldest, and tossing a football with all three. It was loud and chaotic, a normal day. A day that was much different day than ten years earlier, when he wore a gray suit, and I wore white, and all was still and quiet on that mountain top—just our voices exchanging vows in the breeze.
I’ll be honest: I don’t remember what we promised each other that day. Our vows are a distant memory. But I’m assuming we didn’t promise to love one another only through quiet and calm days.
Our anniversary passed without a huge celebration, and the days that followed were ordinary, with school and work, loud moments and quiet, and truthfully, that’s all I want to hold onto—that we were together.
And that’s something worth celebrating.
Farm Happenings
For 10 straight days, the farm crew seeded winter wheat. We finished seeding the day before our 10th anniversary, which reminded me of our wedding week when Rich was seeding up until a few days before the wedding.
Also, the day after we finished seeding—it finally rained!! (Insert all the exclamation points!) It’s been so dry, with rain storms going around us, leaving the ground dry and morale low. The winter wheat is now sprouting, turning the fields green. The winter wheat will lie dormant over the winter months—hopefully with more rain in the coming weeks and snow to keep it covered and protected until the spring, when it will start growing again.
The ranch crew is gearing up to ship the calves next week. The heifer calves were weaned from their mothers last week, and the remaining calves will be weaned next week.
Between seeding and ranch work, we’ve also been hauling grain, mainly wheat, to the grain elevators. I had a conversation recently with a new friend (Hi,
!) who asked me where our grain goes. I told her (incorrectly) that most of our grain gets exported to China. Later, I asked Rich because I was curious if I had given the right information and why it went to China. Rich told me that most of our grain is contracted through General Mills, so it will actually be ground into flour and bagged locally. Some of our grain will be shipped overseas, though, to the Pacific Rim. I learn something new every day!Up next: shipping the calves and continuing to haul grain.
Lately, I’m . . .
Reading: Demon Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver. This is a doorstopper of a book, and I was intimidated by its size. But so many people kept raving about it, so I gave it a try. For me—it lived up to the hype. The writing was beautiful, and the story was captivating. Reading it made me want to write. I read the first half, then my library loan expired, and I listened to the second half on Audible. Worth the read/listen.
And How to Stay Married by Harrison Scott Key. All the stars for this book. I laughed way more than I expected to while reading a book about infidelity. This book is well-written, and I loved it. I’ll never think about cargo shorts the same way again.
Watching: the only reality show I’ve kept up with over the years. This is less of a recommendation and more of a confession. The main “character” and I grew up in the same small town and graduated from the same high school (although several years apart). It’s like watching a train wreck—I can’t stop.
Wearing: this purple top, and I think purple might be my color to wear.
Cooking: this super easy Instant Pot chicken noodle soup.
Baking: Rhett’s 9th birthday cake. He requested the same cake design as last year—he likes what he likes. I used a chocolate box cake mix + homemade buttercream frosting.
Writing: a guest post for another Substack (publication TBD).
Singing: Kylie Minogue’s new song, Padam Padam. (Also, how is she 55 years old!? I assumed she was closer to my age.)
Listening: to “Cultivating a Healthy Relationship with Tech” on the Don’t Mom Alone podcast. My relationship with my phone and social media is often on my mind, and I can’t help but think about the behaviors I’m modeling for my kids. I highly recommend listening to this episode (and all the others in her tech series!) AND sharing it with your spouse. (Once you listen, you’ll know why I said that.)
Sharing: my essay Between Mothers and Sons, which was published at the beginning of the month on Coffee + Crumbs. I started writing the story over a year ago, and it’s the most vulnerable essay I’ve publicly shared. Also, I posted on IG (for the first time in three months!) about my recent trip to Chicago to meet online friends!
Buying: this cookbook that comes out next month! (Actually, I pre-ordered it months ago, but I’m excited it comes out soon!)
Happy fall, friends! Unfortunately, fall is the shortest season in Montana, or at least, that’s what it feels like. I can never get enough of the oranges and yellow leaves, the cooler temperatures, and football. And for the first time—we have a kid playing football! Football Saturdays have a little more meaning for us now.
That’s it for me this month. What’s your favorite part about this season?
Oh, I relate so much to the early Saturday morning sibling fights about... nothing? everything? But those sweet sibling moments when they aren't fighting are something to treasure! Also, love both of the cakes you shared!
I always love your newsletter! Hooray for rain and 10 years married. Just downloaded that podcast episode.