Hill Traffic Does Not Stop

Anyone who knows me knows I find beauty all around me in Kansas. God's creative handprint is on the sunrises, the sunsets, the ditches lined with sunflowers, the windmills, in the pastures dotted with wildflowers and in the wide open spaces. I love wheat from the time it pokes the first blades of green through the brown soil, when it's encased in winter white, and when the waves of gold dance in the Kansas wind.

It was a different kind of beauty in Morehead, Ky. My favorite spot was Eagle Lake, a picture postcard pretty place on the campus at Morehead State University, where Brent began his new job on Monday. That lake has got to be one great fringe benefit of being a student or being on staff there.

I would love to see it in the fall as the leaves begin turning and cast brilliant autumn colors on the smooth water's surface. I probably won't get to see it this fall, but maybe another year.

Morehead and Morehead State University are nestled in the foothills of the Daniel Boone National Forest. Yes, Kansas has its regions with peaks and valleys. It just doesn't happen to be where we live. Morehead was much greener than the drought-stricken Kansas we left behind.

Hills are part of the backdrop for the Morehead campus. I took this shot back toward campus, turning 180 degrees around from the lake.

In just a few weeks, the fall colors of the trees on the hills surrounding the football stadium will rival the action on the field, I suspect.

It was even pretty on a rainy, foggy morning.

Same goes for the baseball stadium and pretty much anywhere else on campus.

The hills also provided some signs we aren't used to in Stafford, America: "Hill Traffic Does Not Stop"was a sign near Brent's new home.

It wasn't exactly Lombard Street in San Francisco. But the street began in downtown Morehead and crested at the top of a hill, where there was a parking lot at one juncture and two stop signs flanking it.

Brent's backyard is mostly tree-covered hill, though there's enough room for a barbecue grill, which we put to use before the K-State vs. Miami game on Saturday. 

Brent was our chef, a nice change of pace

We were surprised by how narrow some of the streets were, especially in Brent's neighborhood. I was glad Randy was driving the Budget truck and not me. Meeting traffic was an adventure of narrow streets and hidden driveways. 

On Brent's street - The sign warns of a driveway that seems to go straight up a hill.

Next time we visit, we won't be hefting boxes and hanging picture frames, so we hope to explore more of the area. Maybe then we'll see more horse farms. It wasn't until we got to Lexington to fly back to Wichita that we saw horses grazing on the stereotypical bluegrass of Kentucky.

But there's no place like home either. Beauty: It's all around us - whether on the Kansas plains or the Kentucky hills.

Fly Like An Eagle

Practically from the time they arrive, our children begin the march toward independence. From the day they begin crawling away to explore a world outside Mommy's arms or they take their first tentative, shaky steps, they begin that pulling away process.

The first-day-of-school bus photo evolves until they are driving their own vehicle to school. All too soon, you are the one waving goodbye from the driveway as they head back to college or head back home after an all-too-short weekend.

This past week, it was a Budget Rent-A-Truck instead of a school bus. Brent no longer packs a K-State backpack, but instead a leather briefcase with space for a laptop.

He will add another school to his allegiance. Yesterday, he began his job as the Media and Marketing Coordinator for the Morehead (Ky.) State University Eagles. It's his first job after earning his master's degree in Sport and Entertainment Management from the University of South Carolina in May.

Brent's office will be in this building. Maybe we'll get to see it next time!

As Randy drove the Budget truck and I helped navigate from Columbia through the hills of Tennessee and Kentucky, the Steve Miller Band song, "Fly Like An Eagle" kept drifting through my head.


Brent is going to be an Eagle now, but it was this part that had me thinking:

"Time keeps on slippin', slippin', slippin' into the future."

Indeed it does.

As I walked the Morehead State University campus on Saturday, I captured a mental picture of where my "baby" will be spending his time. I took a similar walk around the South Carolina campus when we moved him there in January 2011 after his graduation from K-State in December 2010.

The campus - and for that matter, the town - is nestled in the foothills of the Daniel Boone National Forest in Rowan County, Kentucky. The 2012 edition of "America's Best Colleges" by U.S. News and World Report named MSU one of the top 25 public universities in the South. Randy and I have already added some blue and gold to our wardrobes.

The bell tower on campus is inscribed with the words Love, Service, Wisdom and Justice on each of its four sides.

Those are all virtues with which we'd like to send our children into the world to make their own way. It's an exciting time as a parent to watch your child fly like an Eagle - a Morehead State Eagle, in this case.

Tomorrow: More from our trip.

Moving Lessons

The Mom and Dad Moving Co. caught a break last week. A moving company with a real logo and a bonafide truck pulled up to Jill and Eric's house in Omaha last weekend for the first leg of their move from Big Red country back to the Sunflower State.

Back in February 2010, I seem to recall the two dads saying this was their swan song when it came to providing moving services. Thankfully, Eric's new job included a provision for moving expenses. That's a fringe benefit I can really appreciate. (Eric's parents did end up with a truckload of possessions the movers wouldn't move and will serve as a way station while Jill and Eric wait on the go-ahead to move into their new home in Topeka.)

An aside: I just thought I'd use this photo so it might cool all of us off. On the day Jill and Eric moved into their Omaha house in February 2010, there was a lot of snow. Eric's dad Alan tried to find their back patio with a snow shovel. He gave up. Snow sounds good right about now.

However, last Saturday, as the thermometer teased the 100-degree mark and the humidity was off the charts, I was ever so thankful that there were three young guys sweating instead of me.

The moving company didn't get me out of the cleaning detail. But it was still cooler inside cleaning, even after the door had been propped open for six hours.

Jill and I felt sorry for the movers. However, we were both of the opinion that they could have saved themselves a few ounces of sweat by showing up at 8 o'clock instead of 10:10. We did offer plenty of ice water.

And I did feel somewhat guilty sitting there reading my book. I got more reading done while the packers packed on Friday and the movers moved on Saturday than I gotten done in a long time. (We even had time for the first round of maternity clothes shopping!)

One of the movers was a young guy named Juan. He looked like he was still in high school. As the morning turned into afternoon, Jill asked him if he was still in school.

Juan said he had dropped out of school because he had a daughter. But he was seriously considering going back.

"I don't want to do this the rest of my life," he told her.

I've always thought that any job can teach us life lessons like that. The summer between Brent's sophomore and junior years at college, he worked in Manhattan making t-shirts.

There was nothing wrong with the job. He collected a paycheck, though he ruined some clothes along the way with the ink. He and a fraternity brother worked in the un-airconditioned work zone all summer long.

And they both learned that they were glad to go back to school in the fall and ultimately work toward those bachelor's degrees. Still other internships helped Brent figure out he was on the right career path, and he' s now working towards his master's.

We all have those "a-ha" moments along the way. They are the signposts that point our way to the future.

So, I hope Juan really follows through and goes back to school ... not only for his own sake, but as an example for his young daughter.

There's certainly no shame in manual labor. And maybe Juan will work himself up and become the supervisor. But striving to be the best you can be is an important crossroads - no matter your age or station in life.

A Moving Experience

January has been a month full of moves. The first move involved relocating Brent in a 2,720-mile round trip trek from here to Columbia, South Carolina.

For last week's moves, we stayed closer to home. We moved 38 pregnant cows from milo stalks back to the pasture south of our house.

Just like human mamas, as the time for delivery gets closer, it's best to stay close to home. They had been dining on milo stalks about 8 miles away for the past couple of months.

They are supposed to start calving around February 7. So it was time to get the maternity ward open for business.

The guys used hay to coax them into a corral, guiding them along with the 4-wheeler. Then the cows had to hang out in the pens until it was there turn to take the journey.

The move was slightly more complicated than normal because one pickup is in the shop. Instead of using two pickups and two trailers, we had only one "moving van" available.

So it took five trips back and forth to move the mamas back home and then another trip to go back and retrieve the 4-wheeler and other supplies. (I guess that's not so different from our repeated trips up and down stairs at Brent's second-floor Columbia apartment!)

At this time of year, they are definitely not headed off to "greener pastures," but they are nearby in case they have problems calving.

Since there's not green grass to eat this time of year, Randy & Jake got the pasture ready before their arrival.

They put several bales of sudan out. It's a crop we raised this summer, then harvested and baled in September.

Randy unwraps the net wrap from the bale and then positions the feeder around the bale.

Who doesn't like a great meal after a journey?

Let's hope for moderate temperatures as another calving season begins on the County Line!

From Limestone to Brick

We're used to limestone. They have brick.

We're used to the Wabash Cannonball. They hold up a toast to their school and proclaim, "Here's a health, Carolina, forever to thee!"

We are used to the oaks and elms of Kansas. They have those, too, but have added the palmettos and magnolias of the south.


Our trip to the University of South Carolina campus may not have been "home" for us. But it did give this Mom some visual snapshots of where Brent will be spending the next year and a half.

I like being able to picture my kids in their surroundings. I know Jill thought it was silly when we wanted to see the retirement home where she's the dietitian and food service manager. But I like being able to "see" her in my mind's eye when she is talking about work and the residents she loves.

Same goes for Brent's new home. Randy and I spent some time walking around the campus one morning when Brent had meetings with his adviser.

K-State was founded in 1863. The University of South Carolina is old enough to be K-State's grandpa!

USC was founded in 1801, one of the oldest public universities in the U.S. The Graduate School, where Brent will get his master's in sports administration, is one of the nation's 10 largest grad schools. Most of his classes will be in the Carolina Coliseum, the former home to the Gamecocks basketball team.

My favorite part of the campus was The Horseshoe, a part of the original campus. Within its four city blocks, stand 10 buildings from the early 19th century. In 1801, Thomas Jefferson was the newly inaugurated U.S. president and Robert Fulton was experimenting with the steamboat.

We walked down the brick pathways that students have been traversing for 210 years.


And even though it wasn't "our" home, we still felt "at" home. And that made all the difference.

A New Chapter

I watched Brent drive away one night last week. He was going back to Manhattan.

That isn't anything new. Since he graduated from high school in 2006, he's driven away from his childhood home many times.

But this time was different. This time, he was starting the first leg of a journey that would take him beyond the familiar landmarks of the County Line and Manhattan and on to a new adventure.

On January 10, Brent will begin working on his master's degree in sports administration at the University of South Carolina in Columbia. It's a 19-hour drive from Manhattan, but it seems lightyears away for his mother.

On New Year's Eve, we loaded a dresser and night table from his childhood bedroom into the U-Haul. We added the TV stand he'd made in high school shop class and a few other boxes. On January 2, we went to Manhattan to load his possessions from his house there. Then we took off for South Carolina.

But it was his driving away from the County Line earlier in the week that caused tears to flood my eyes.

When I hugged him, he knew I was struggling with the moment.

"It's not like I haven't left before," my practical guy told me.

No, I admitted to him. But it's different this time. Instead of seeing a fully-grown man taking off into his future, I was seeing that little guy with the K-State backpack, ready to begin another year of school. But this time, he wasn't boarding a school bus. He was taking off for an unfamiliar life, halfway across the country.

Before he left, he went outside to say goodbye to Ralph, his dog.

"I'm going outside to hug my puppy," he told me. Well, Ralph hasn't been a puppy for years and the black coat of his youth is now speckled with gray.

So maybe, just maybe, my big guy was thinking just a little bit about the past, too.

He drove away after dark. That's nothing new either. My night owl is at his best in the twilight hours. As his headlights disappeared from view when he passed the northern shelterbelt, I looked up at the sky.

Yes, it will be different not having either of my "babies" living in their home state. But the same sky and stars that blanket a winter night in Kansas will be twinkling in South Carolina. They shine above Jill in Nebraska.

So when I look up at the sky, I know those same stars are shining down on them. They may be in a different position in the sky.


But they will be twinkling nonetheless.