Living the Dash: A Blog Anniversary

Just a mile from Randy's childhood home is the Peace Creek Cemetery. We drive past it when we take cattle to the Palmer pasture. It's over on the left-hand side of the road when we take a bale of hay to the bulls during their winter hiatus. The combine squeezes past the cemetery on the narrow road that leads to one of our fields. But, most of the time, we drive by its iron gates and don't pay much attention.

It's one of those things that's there. But do we really see it? How often can we say that about life itself? We're so busy navigating our way through the minutia that we don't take the time to really celebrate the joys or dissect the challenges.

Today is the ninth "anniversary" of Kim's County Line. I pushed "publish" on my first blog post on January 24, 2010. Today is my 1,780th published post.

As I've been thinking about this nine-year journey, I recalled the poem that circulated several years ago about "living your dash" -  the period between your birth and the moment you draw your last breath.

 

Look closely to see the rainbow in the clouds over Randy's parents' graves at Stafford - photo from 2016

 

The dash is who we are, and it will one day be our legacy. It’s not our birth or death date that matters most, but how we spend each passing year.

For the past nine years, Kim's County Line has helped me keep track of how I'm "living the dash"  on a Central Kansas farm. The sub-title is "Camera Clicks and Commentary from a Kansas Farm Wife," so it provides my perspective with words and images about our journey on a five-generation farm.

Having this avenue to collect words and photos has helped me to connect with my heritage and this life in a new way. It's helped me pay attention. I've approached telling our story like the reporter I am. I take notes. I ask more questions. I want my farmer's "farm speak" translated in a way that makes sense to me so I can share it with others.

January 2019

So often, we overlook the things that we see every day. It's like we're living life at 60 miles an hour, flying by familiar places and people, thinking we already know everything there is to know about these ordinary things that make up our lives and livelihoods.

Because of the cyclical nature of farming, I've written "the same" stories during these past nine years. We've had nine wheat harvests. So, behind the scenes, we've planted the wheat crop and managed it every year - from seed wheat to fertilizing to praying for rain or for praying the rain quits - and then again sending the golden grain through the combine reel.

We've welcomed new calves each January and February, and we've cared for cows that have been part of the herd all during that time. We've run those cattle through the working chute.

We've said goodbye to some employees and hello to others. We've introduced the farming life to two beautiful granddaughters. 

The list of yearly farm tasks and traditions goes on and on. There have been multiple blog posts about all of these steps and stages. And I've taken thousands of photos that illustrate all these components and moments of our lives.

Sometimes, it seems I'm telling the same story again and again. But when I really think about it, I realize that even though I may be telling the "same" story about why we give vaccines to baby calves or why we fertilize a corn crop, the circumstances subtly change.

Take my sunrise tree, for instance. I've taken dozens - maybe hundreds - of photos at a tree south of our house. In fact, I was there again just a week ago. And while it's similar to those I've taken before, the sky is never exactly the same. There aren't always mud puddles in the road or in the neighboring fields. The clouds reflect and refract the rising sun in new and miraculous ways every day. I only need eyes to see it ... and the motivation to go down the road to experience it.

Each quarter, I've compiled my blog posts into hardcover blog books. I got my latest one just the other day, and I struggled to cram yet another volume into an already overflowing cabinet. But, for now, I will continue to write. I'll continue to tell the stories. And I want to thank those of you who come along for the journey - whether it's every time I post or whether you just take an occasional jaunt down the County Line.

It's my blogiversary, but to celebrate, one person will get a gift from me - a selection of my photo notecards or a copy of "Count on It! Adventures from a Kansas Farm," my rhyming, farm-themed counting book - your choice.

To qualify, either comment about this blog post in the comment section of the blog or on my Facebook page, Kim Moore Fritzemeier. Or, if you have trouble with either of those avenues, you may email me at rkjbfarms@gmail.com. The winner will be chosen at random from the commenters. Enter your comment by January 31 for a chance to win.

Again, I thank you! 

UPDATE:  Mary Jo Taylor was the winner of the anniversary drawing. She chose a copy of the book as her prizes. Thanks to all for the wonderful comments! I appreciate each and every one of them.