Prairie Poet: A Kansas Day Tribute

Kansas celebrates her 158th birthday today, January 29. Unlike me, Kansas doesn't seem to mind counting each of her years.

Kansas poet May Williams Ward captured the essence of this state I call home with her poem, Sky Mountain. While I'm not usually a poetry fan, her poem spoke to my appreciation for Kansas, where I've lived my entire life. I illustrated her words with my photos in an earlier blog post. After harvest, I used the same poem for an entry in the Stafford County Fair's computer-manipulated division (see the photo at the top of this post). 

Ward lived for a time in Belpre in Edwards County, our neighbor to the west. Belpre isn't exactly a thriving metropolis.

May Williams Ward

Even though I'm sure it had more businesses and people a hundred years ago, I was even more intrigued by this young poet who harvested words in a small Kansas town, while her husband Merle collected the harvests of area farmers at the grain elevator his family owned.

While living in Belpre, Ward became editor of The Harp, a national poetry magazine. Last year, I discovered that the Hutchinson Public Library had added a book about Ward to its shelves. I get a weekly email from the Hutch library, which summarizes some of the new books in their collection. I couldn't believe the timing. I think I was probably the first patron to check it out.

Prairie Rhythms: The Life and Poetry of May Williams Ward was written by Lana Wirt Myers and published by Mammoth Publications in Lawrence.

William Allen White had this to say about Ward:

This Kansas poetress ... contributes to the most important magazines of verse and is easily the champion poet of Kansas. Her verse is beautiful, poignant, understanding. She excels because she is of the prairie. She takes her music out of her environment, winds, birds, the rhythm of the windmill, the Kansas scene. ...

 Literary correspondent Dorothy Brown Thompson wrote:

Why shouldn't more poets write about their own background instead of the isle of Capri sort of thing - especially an almost untouched field like our middle west? Probably because they don't see a sky mountain or the monstrous horn of a unicorn. You and William Allen White and John Stewart Curry give a three-faceted view of Kansas - utterly different but all true.

As I was reading her work, another of her poems struck a chord with me, and I remembered it again during wheat harvest.  Song Cycle: Farmer and Wheat placed fourth in a Kansas Authors Club poetry competition in 1921.

On this Kansas Day, here are more of Ward's words, with my photo illustrations, celebrating our Wheat State:

Wheat Farmer  (A Sequence)

I. Scene 

My valley is covered with riches

Gold wheat in the soft breeze blown;

More golden than gold itself for it blends

Two golds, the sun's and its own.

II. Action

I worked and I sweat and somehow

The complex rhythms of toil

Made contact that brought forth the beaded wheat

From the wedding of seed and soil.

It was magic. Moreover, provided

By the cunning planning of men

There was a miracle machine

For the working of magic again

The intricate harvester-thresher.

It slid though the yellowed field

Cut and winnowed and threshed and cleaned

And weighed and measured the yield

 Tons of my wheat at the market

Enough to cargo a ship

Has its bulk compressed (by magic again)

To a narrow paper slip

And so I pocketed my wheat crop.

With power to transmute it at will

Into heat and clothing and food and books

And a new white house on the hill;

But a part I shall change into solid coin

For something heavy to hold

A tangible weight to remind me

Of my labor turned into gold.

III. Gift

Wife, do you know what I dreamed last night?

I dreamed I sweat drops like dew

And they turned into gold and I gathered them up

And gave them to you.

Happy 158th birthday, Kansas! You sure look good to me!

Today, I get to spend part of my day reading my farm counting book to Kinley's first grade class in Manhattan and sharing these Kansas sunflower cookies I made. (Recipe to come in a future blog.)  It sounds like the perfect way to celebrate!

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.

Who Needs the Lottery?

I don't play the lottery. So why am I taking a photo of a PowerBall ticket?

It was a gift from someone who said I had to be the luckiest person he knew. I really am fortunate. But I am not going to attribute my good fortune last week to "luck." Instead, I've been thanking God for His protection.

I had a 4-wheeler accident last Monday (January 14) while we were moving cattle. I probably should have been hurt badly. Instead, I'm just a little bruised and battered.

I wasn't going to tell anyone about it. I hate mistakes.This first-born perfectionist especially hates my  mistakes. So I was going to cover it up. I told Randy to tell the other two people who witnessed the accident that they were to keep their mouths shut.

As far as I know, they did. But one of them is the purchaser of the lottery ticket. He stopped Randy on the road the next day and said it was for me ... for the aforementioned luck.

The lottery ticket was not a winner. In fact, it didn't have even one matching number. But that was OK. I didn't think my "deliverance" from major harm had anything to do with "luck" anyway.

It took me two days to confess the accident to anyone in my family. I took a backwards vault off the Peace Creek bridge with the 4-wheeler. It's not easy to get the 4-wheeler into reverse. My inexperience with the reverse button and the bridge location collided. However, all that rain and mud we've been frustrated by likely helped cushion my fall. I vaguely remember pushing the 4-wheeler away from me as I fell, and it didn't land on top of me. That helped, too.

I had some bruises - inside and out - and I wasn't too comfortable for a few days. But even the bruises are fading now.

Farming is a dangerous job. Sometimes it's dangerous because we make stupid mistakes. Sometimes animals don't react the way we anticipate. We are around big machinery and moving parts and chemicals, and accidents happen. We're sometimes tired and impatient - two things that can lead to mistakes.

I could have just showed the photos of moving the cattle. Believe me: I considered it. We moved two groups that day and things went well until the end. We had one "escapee," and I was trying to go help retrieve that one left behind when the accident happened.

I've been privately thanking God for His protection for a week. If I'm not willing to say that and to show all sides of farming, then I'm not being an honest representative for agriculture or for my faith.

In the adult Sunday School class I facilitate, the chapter theme last week was "Revealing Authenticity." Hmmm ... I have to admit it was another nudge to be honest. One of the quotes from the book, "#struggles: Following Jesus in a Selfie-Centered World," was from Mother Teresa. Really? Who can argue with Mother Teresa?

Honesty and transparency make you vulnerable. Be honest and transparent anyway.

In this world of Instagram filters and pithy "tweets," it's become our "norm" to edit our images and our words. We crop our photos to show our best features. We only post photos of ourselves and our families when everyone looks their best. We write, then edit, then edit some more until we have what we hope will translate into the maximum number of "likes."

Author of the book Craig Groeschel says: "The more filtered our lives become - the more we show others only the "me" we want them to see - the more difficulty we have being authentic. ... If we can't be real, are we really living?"

So here you have me: Unfiltered and authentic. I am not the perfect farm wife. I'm far from it. But you know that saying about getting back on your horse after getting bucked off? I'll be back on the 4-wheeler again. (But I will probably do everything in my power to keep from having to use the reverse. Just saying. And just being real. For sure, I won't use it if I'm on a bridge.)

Here are the photos and the story of what happened before the accident, It really was a pretty day: 

There's at least one in every crowd. It's the guy (or gal) who doesn't join the rest. You know the type: It's the one who is insistent about not following the carefully-prescribed plan of action. While others follow a straight line toward a common destination, that obstinate non-rule follower will willfully mess up the carefully-detailed plan of action.

 

This cow who didn't walk down the cattle trail is kind of like that toddler who looks over at his/her mother while doing the very thing that she'd just said not to do. It's like the kindergarten student who can't seem to remain in single file on the way to the lunch room. Honestly, these cows were well-behaved.

Once we got them moving in the same direction with the 4-wheelers, they went willingly.

Cattle - like humans - are creatures of habit. It took awhile for them to realize that the electric fence was no longer there. Even the enticement of a big round bale of tasty hay didn't have them crossing the line where the fence had been.

They finally crossed the "demilitarized" zone.

And with a little urging, they were across the road.

We ran them into the corrals until the roads froze enough to move them. Thankfully, that happened on Saturday. It was before the heifers started calving. While the "due date" is January 28, we had our first baby calves by January 23 last year.

Since there's another cold snap with potential flurries or a "wintry mix" coming, it will probably happen soon. Randy is already making trips to "the girls" to see if we have any early arrivals for the Class of 2019. Alert: Cute calf pictures soon to come!

Turning the Page

My sister, Lisa, and I share some reading time

I don't need a contest to "make" me read. However, in 2018, I joined a couple of reading contests at the Nora Larabee Memorial Library in Stafford and the year-long #ICT challenge, a collaboration between The Wichita Eagle and The Wichita Public Library.

Even after I finished the challenges, I decided to keep track of my books for the year. The grand total was 97 books. (I guess I should have read a little more so that I could have made it an even 100!)  That doesn't count all the books I read to Kinley and Brooke during our reading marathons. I love children's books, too.

Darci, me and Lisa with our books

I can't remember a time when I wasn't a library patron. My mom took us to the old library at the Pratt County Courthouse from the time we could toddle in on our own steam. It was exciting when the new library was built in Pratt. There was a whole room of children's books where I discovered Encyclopedia Brown and Nancy Drew. I still love mysteries and thrillers today, and I have to believe those days of uncovering clues with them had to have laid an early groundwork for this love affair that's lasted all of my life.

One of my favorite childhood memories is listening to my mom read "The Little House on the Prairie" books. I read and re-read them myself as I got older. 

I was a champion reader. And I have the certificate to prove it. When I was a third grader, I read 166 books. (Let's just say I didn't win any certificates for math.)

I've decided to again tackle the #ICT challenge. Participating urges me out of my usual reading preferences. In fact, #2 is "a book from a genre you don't normally read." What did I tell you?

Here are the categories, if you'd like to join along. (Here's a PDF if you want to print the categories):

1. A book with a face on the cover
2. A book from a genre you don’t normally read
3. A book that makes you LOL
4. A book set in the place you were born
5. A classic or retelling
6. A book you’ve avoided or didn’t finish
7. A translated book
8. An award winner (Pulitzer, National Book Award, Newbery, etc.)
9. A book recommended by a child or teenager
10. A biography, autobiography or memoir
11. A book featuring a character who is different than you in some way (race, religion, abilities, etc.)
12. A book by an author slated to visit Kansas in 2019

The categories are flexible, so readers can bend and twist them to meet their individual reading habits and goals. For example, one reader on the #ICT reading Facebook group said she's using a clock face as a "face on the cover." See what I mean about flexibility? Nobody is "grading" your efforts. It's just a fun way to challenge yourself. And, since I'm part of the Facebook group, I often find book recommendations from other voracious readers.

Our Stafford library is undergoing a renaissance, so I joined in a couple of adult reading challenges there, and a new one begins January 21. In it, readers have to read five books with authors whose names begin with the letters in "Nora E. Larabee."

Stained glass window at the Nora Larabee Memorial Library in Stafford

Participating in the reading challenges doesn't keep me from reading what I want to read. If Jodi Picoult or Lee Child or Jonathan Kellerman or some other favorite author has a new book out, I'll be putting my name on the reserve list at the library, even if it doesn't fit into a "category."

Nora Larabee Memorial Library - Stafford, KS

But broadening my horizons is a good thing. Want to join me? At the very least, give me some ideas of books you recommend - whether they fit the criterion or not! But bonus points if they fit in a category!

Read more here: https://www.kansas.com/entertainment/books/article222395745.html#storylink=c

Read more here: https://www.kansas.com/entertainment/books/article222395745.html#storylink=

Crunchy Apple Almond Salad

Two people asked for the recipe. I'll count that for a win.

Our Moore family Christmas is actually a mash-up of Christmas celebration and birthday party for my mom. One of her gifts isn't wrapped up in paper and bows. It's having the entire family at their house to celebrate.

Part of that celebration includes a teamwork effort to provide supper for a bunch of people. We are up to 31, so the celebratory supper has now moved to a shed, and it takes more than one table to hold all the offerings. And while the baby didn't eat much of the evening spread, everyone else enjoys the potluck of sides and salads that we all contribute to go with the beef brisket main course.

It's fun to try a new recipe when you have that many willing guinea pigs. So Crunchy Apple Almond Salad was one of my contributions. I'd printed it from a blog in that growing "to-be-tried" pile in my kitchen. It was time for a "try." Thankfully, it wasn't a swing and a miss.

My own little family had a preview for our earlier Christmas celebration. It also was a nice accompaniment to a meal with a ham as as the centerpiece. And two of the nieces asked for the recipe.

It's an easy recipe to double or triple or quadruple for that extra-large crowd. But it's also good for a dinner for just us two.

Enjoy!

Crunchy Apple Almond Salad

Adapted from Cooking on the Front Burner

1 bag of spring greens or romaine lettuce, chopped (or combination)
1/2 cup craisins
1 tart apple, seeded and chopped
1 small can mandarin oranges, drained
1/4 cup chopped green onion
1/2 cup sliced celery (opt.)
1/2 cup ditalini pasta, cooked, drained, rinsed and cooled
1/3 cup crumbled feta cheese

Sugared Nuts
1/3 cup almonds
1 tbsp. butter
1 1/2 tbsp. brown sugar

Dressing
4 tbsp. canola or vegetable oil
2 tbsp. champagne vinegar
2 tbsp. honey
1 tbsp. poppy seeds
1/4 tsp. salt
1/8 tsp. pepper
1/2 clove garlic, minced
1 tsp. dijon mustard

For nuts: In medium skillet, melt butter and brown sugar. Saute the almonds until they are glazed and light brown. Remove and cool on parchment paper. Break up when cool and then store in plastic bag until ready to use.

Dressing: Combine all ingredients in a small container with a lid and shake until mixed. Store in refrigerator until used. Shake before pouring over salad.

For salad: Combine salad ingredients just before serving. Toss. Drizzle dressing over salad and toss gently to combine. Sprinkle nuts on top and serve immediately.

Notes: 

• I used a combination of spring mix and also chopped up some romaine lettuce. I prefer chopping my own rather than buying it in the bag because I think it stays fresher for longer. 
• You can increase the ingredients for both the salad and the dressing to serve more people. Refrigerate leftovers.
• I did not use celery because too many family members don't care for it.

Don't Fence Me In

 

My first job on the farm was driving the pickup while my dad built or picked up electric fence.

I was 6 at the time.

This winter, I returned to my roots. But instead of driving the pickup for my dad, I was helping Randy. There were some differences.

• I can now reach the brake and the gas with no problem. My sister, Lisa, and I were a tag team back in the olden days.
• I was helping on the Stafford/Reno County line rather than northern Pratt County.
• Back then, I wouldn't have gotten away with saying, "Wait just a minute while I get a photo."

Randy is used to my photo obsession. And since I was the only available worker, he put up with my need to stop and focus on the meadowlark watching our progress from the fence post. And, really, he's the one who called my attention to it in the first place. What could he expect?

Randy rode on the tailgate, and I drove the pickup between electric fence posts, where he'd jump off and toss each in the back of the pickup.

Back in the 1960s, I didn't have to help wind wire onto the spool. So I learned a new job. (Maybe he said OK to all the photos because he knew I was going to eventually be wielding a pitchfork - ha!)

The wire was threaded between the tines of the pitchfork, and I was supposed to gently move the handle back and forth to evenly distribute the wire on the spool.

 I couldn't keep from channeling the American Gothic painting as I did the job.

And, besides, Randy is always glad to get a photo with the old Ford 8N tractor.

There is something about tradition. That tractor seat has been occupied with five different generations now.  Melvin and Clarence bought the tractor back in the 1960s, when Randy was in grade school. They used it to load silage for feeding cattle. Randy remembers using it to pull a two-row John Deere planter when they planted milo. He also cultivated milo with it when he was junior high age.

Clarence (Randy's Grandpa, seated), his Dad Melvin and Randy holding Brent in 1988.

Randy was insistent that the tractor served as a focal point for a 2012 Easter-time photo with Kinley and Jill. (I should have taken a photo with Randy and the girls when they were here this fall.)

April 2012

The wire winder itself is homemade from a Model T frame, adding to the longevity of this farm workhorse.

It may be tired, but it's not retired. Come to think of it, that could apply to Randy and me, too.