Brace yourselves, dear readers. Here's another excerpt from the AgriNews blog. Yeah, the title might be a bit misleading (I didn't get screwed over at Christmas or anything...quite the contrary actually) but hopefully it all makes sense anyway.
Enjoy!
*~*~*~*~*~*~
We all make plans. And I’m not just talking about all the plans we make for the holidays, such as going to Hub’s parents’ house on Thanksgiving and my parents’ on Christmas.
No, no, I’m talking big plans. Deep plans. Life plans.
Here, at the end of 2010, I’m doing a bit of reflecting. First, it seems that 2010 went by way too quickly. I’m just now ready for fall to begin, let alone to have it already over.
I recently got to do one of those interviews that, when I left, I really felt enlightened. Without going into too much detail, I was interviewing a farmer who was fulfilling some major philanthropy projects.
He has had success and now has the proof to show for it, even though he’s giving quite a bit of it away.
From multiple farms to owning multiple businesses, this guy is a businessman, and he’s not afraid to admit it. But, with all the fortune he’s found, he said he knows a lot of it came from being at the right place at the right time and being nice to the people he’s met a long the way.
But the message that stuck with me after this interview wasn’t about his hard work ethic and his perseverance. After all, those characteristics can be found in almost everyone in agriculture.
The part that got me was this statement: “Whitney, I got screwed over good a couple times before I got to where I am today.”
It was less of the “make lemonade out of lemons” speech I’ve been hearing my whole life and more of the “Suck it up, don’t be a pansy and move on.”
Maybe it was the cut-to-the-chase phrase of “got screwed” that resonated with me, but I think that’s a good lesson to put in my pocket for the next time I’m having a rough day.
There’s a country song that includes the lyric, “You wanna hear God laugh? Tell him your plans.”
I think we young people — let me hold on to that bit of my youth and consider myself to still be a young person, OK? — have a tendency to make plans for our future and be completely thrown off if something doesn’t go as planned.
Maybe the thought of being fluid enough to “go with the flow” is a lost art, but it seems that once a plan of mine gets a bit derailed, I get flustered.
I’m not one to easily “flow.” I’m working on it.
But as I left that interview, I couldn’t help but think what might have happened to this particular farmer/businessman/entrepreneur if God had just let him follow his plans with out throwing him a bit off course. I don’t know that his companies would exist today or if he would have the capability to help with the fundraisers as he has today.
As I head into this new year, I’m sure there will be some things come my way that will involve me changing the plans I already have laid out. But I am going to do my best to accept them and roll with the punches. I encourage you all to do the same.
Who knows what might happen if we open ourselves up to change? I can’t wait to find out.
Happy New Year!
Showing posts with label Work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Work. Show all posts
Monday, December 27, 2010
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
I spy... a blog post!
I am not going to lie.
Things have been crazy up in here.
(some sickness, work stuff, home stuff, Christmas stuff)
But the good news is they are improving!
And last night, I shot over 100 pics for Christmas blog posts!
*someone really shoulda told me it's already the 14th of December! When did that happen?! How am I going to get all this Christmas joy shared?!
Anywhoo, the moral is that I heart Christmas in a BIG way and I want to share some of family traditions and things I love and whatnot! But... it won't be today. :(
Instead, because I am oh-so-original, I'm posting my AgriNews blog from yesterday. It's a cute story that will restore your faith in the future of agriculture (if you had lost any of it).
Enjoy!
--
I recently visited a farm on behalf of the newspaper. I went to do an interview with a livestock producer about a particular breed they were trying out and was curious to see how the animals were adapting to a life with four seasons.
I’m intentionally trying to keep things vague, so that you’ll have to read the paper!
But, as it is with life, something came up, and my interview with the producer was quickly shifted to an interview with the producer’s daughter as the parent had to make an emergency run into town.
For the first time in my career as a reporter, I don’t think I had to ask a single question. The 11 year old took off to the barn with me quick on her heels and trying to figure out what she was saying.
She was talking so fast it was hard for me to keep up. I eventually gave up on taking notes — knowing I’d need to follow up with the parents anyway — and just started listening.
We walked. And she talked.
She told me about her horses, the sheep — including her perspective on how to tell if it’s a boy or a girl — the dogs, the ducks that wouldn’t go in the pond, the chickens that have the crazy hair, the ram that’s a meanie butt, the goat with a messed up “bahhh” and the dog— or was that goat? — that she accidentally fell on and broke its leg.
“It was an accident, though,” she said. “I was only nine. It was completely an accident, and I didn’t mean to do it.”
I muttered something about how things like that happen sometimes, but she didn’t hear me, she was on to talking about the horses and calling them all by name as if that helped me understand which one she was talking about.
This girl talked a mile a minute, and I just kept throwing in a random, “Uh-Huh” or an “Oh, OK” to let her know I was following the train of thought she was on.
But the part that got to me was when she was talking about her family’s farm, how her dad grew up in the same house he and her mom lived in and how she, too, was planning to live on the farm forever.
She is going to be a horse trainer and build a house in the back pasture with her friend, Ashley, and they are going to be partners and it was going to be great.
The gal had the brightest sparkle in her eye talking about her future — her future in agriculture.
She talked. I listened.
That was how the entire interview went. We stood out in an unheated old, drafty barn and she was thrilled to have me there to hear all about what she had learned in 4-H and the differences in English and Western saddles for her horses.
I would like to state for the record though that I did know some of that stuff.
I heard all about how she doesn’t like the color pink. She’s more of a “purple and blue kinda girl.”
While I was a little disappointed — but understanding — that she had become my guide that morning, I left feeling guilty about that sentiment because I had, instead, had the opportunity to get a glimpse into this gal’s future and her ideas for staying in agriculture.
That made my day, to know that there still are girls that dream of building a house on the farm and staying involved in the industry I grew up loving, just like this little firecracker.
And I was I leaving, I zipped up my camera bag, pulled my pink stocking cap down tight and put on my pink gloves, she hugged me and thanked me for hanging out with her.
Yup, I think that if she represented any bit of the future of this ag industry, we’ll all be just fine.
I’m intentionally trying to keep things vague, so that you’ll have to read the paper!
But, as it is with life, something came up, and my interview with the producer was quickly shifted to an interview with the producer’s daughter as the parent had to make an emergency run into town.
For the first time in my career as a reporter, I don’t think I had to ask a single question. The 11 year old took off to the barn with me quick on her heels and trying to figure out what she was saying.
She was talking so fast it was hard for me to keep up. I eventually gave up on taking notes — knowing I’d need to follow up with the parents anyway — and just started listening.
We walked. And she talked.
She told me about her horses, the sheep — including her perspective on how to tell if it’s a boy or a girl — the dogs, the ducks that wouldn’t go in the pond, the chickens that have the crazy hair, the ram that’s a meanie butt, the goat with a messed up “bahhh” and the dog— or was that goat? — that she accidentally fell on and broke its leg.
“It was an accident, though,” she said. “I was only nine. It was completely an accident, and I didn’t mean to do it.”
I muttered something about how things like that happen sometimes, but she didn’t hear me, she was on to talking about the horses and calling them all by name as if that helped me understand which one she was talking about.
This girl talked a mile a minute, and I just kept throwing in a random, “Uh-Huh” or an “Oh, OK” to let her know I was following the train of thought she was on.
But the part that got to me was when she was talking about her family’s farm, how her dad grew up in the same house he and her mom lived in and how she, too, was planning to live on the farm forever.
She is going to be a horse trainer and build a house in the back pasture with her friend, Ashley, and they are going to be partners and it was going to be great.
The gal had the brightest sparkle in her eye talking about her future — her future in agriculture.
She talked. I listened.
That was how the entire interview went. We stood out in an unheated old, drafty barn and she was thrilled to have me there to hear all about what she had learned in 4-H and the differences in English and Western saddles for her horses.
I would like to state for the record though that I did know some of that stuff.
I heard all about how she doesn’t like the color pink. She’s more of a “purple and blue kinda girl.”
While I was a little disappointed — but understanding — that she had become my guide that morning, I left feeling guilty about that sentiment because I had, instead, had the opportunity to get a glimpse into this gal’s future and her ideas for staying in agriculture.
That made my day, to know that there still are girls that dream of building a house on the farm and staying involved in the industry I grew up loving, just like this little firecracker.
And I was I leaving, I zipped up my camera bag, pulled my pink stocking cap down tight and put on my pink gloves, she hugged me and thanked me for hanging out with her.
Yup, I think that if she represented any bit of the future of this ag industry, we’ll all be just fine.
 |
| These were some of the critters at the farm. I just love the donkey looking around the corner like, "hey, what's up?" Also, that ram is the "meanie butt." |
Monday, November 29, 2010
I'm a talker (not a stalker)
Enjoy:
 |
| Just for the record, neither of these guys are my dad (nor do they look like him, but this is certainly a picture of two farmers chatting it up) |
He was the township trustee for most of my childhood, so he met annually with all the farmers and landowners to discuss their assessments. He helped establish the township’s volunteer fire department, and he’s a farmer.
His parents are from the area and are well known, too. They’re a popular bunch, and needless to say, he knows a lot of people.
Anytime we went anywhere with dad – the gas station, church, the local lunch hot spots – we’d see at least one person we know. And, in true farmer fashion, he’d strike up a conversation that started with the weather and ended seemingly hours later after covering countless topics.
I learned it early — my dad’s a talker.
As a kid, I’d often tune out and my mind would wander while he was deep in conversation with people he knew. I had no idea at the time that I was in training to become a talker just like him, and I certainly never would’ve guessed I’d be talking about agriculture for a living.
This career has turned me into the talker I’ve been training to become my entire life. After watching my dad for nearly 30 years and interviewing farmers for five, I think I could interview a wall and get some answers.
It happens to me all the time anymore – I strike up conversations with complete strangers about topics I don’t really care about just because I find myself needing to know more of the “who, what, when, where, why and how” of whatever subject they are talking about.
Cashiers, fast food employees, store salespeople, folks at church, vendors at farm shows — name a person; no one is safe. I’m ready to talk them up.
Don’t misunderstand, I’m not complaining about this new talent I continue to hone. I love learning about people and hearing about the lessons they’ve learned. I have met so many people through AgriNews interviews and events that I am rich with stories and memories, as well as news.
There are so many tidbits and neat stories about the people that fill the pages of AgriNews that will never make it to print, it astounds me. Those small pieces fall by the wayside because they aren’t pertinent to the story at hand, but they are bits of info that I treasure the most.
I think back to those memories that farmers have shared with me and it makes me feel trusted, like I am relatable to the people I interview.
That’s what is so great about the folks in the agriculture industry, they are, for the most part, willing to share far more than what I need for AgriNews. And that just feeds my need to be a talker.
During one adventure, I interviewed a cattle farmer. He and his operation were special in themselves, but the story about his wife’s recent battle with cancer and how difficult it was for the farmer to help her heal and not emotionally drain himself has stuck with me for years. His devotion to his wife has been in my mind ever since.
What about the family whose daughter was at Purdue studying in ag communication? That was a fun one because she and I could compare notes, since that was the program from which I graduated.
There was another farmer I visited to talk livestock, and we spent time talking about his new shop and all the challenges he faced in getting it built, but how blessed he felt to be able to complete the project.
There are a lot of conversations about faith. I’m not sure if that’s politically correct or not, but farmers are God-fearing people, and they are proud of it. They often willingly share their stories of how their faith has been tested through weather, health, accidents or markets.
Yes, with the genes my dad passed on to me, and the experiences I’ve had through this career, I’ve become a talker.
I didn’t really notice it until I was at church recently and, after the service was dismissed, my husband, parents and I were heading to our cars. I was stopped by a local farmer/family friend/AgriNews subscriber and we started talking.
Off to the side of the conversation, I heard my husband mention to my mom that “this was going to take forever,” motioning to me chatting it up. She said that was OK because dad was lost in a conversation talking to someone else.
Yup, I’m a talker. I got it honest.
I’m proud of it. I’ve earned it.
 |
| This is me (on the left) talking with Zafer, a hardwoods buyer who traveled to Indiana last summer |
Friday, September 24, 2010
How did I get here?
Do you ever feel like you ought to be a part of something bigger than yourself and your own little blog?
*Wanted to "come home to the farm" but realized about my junior year of high school that the farm wasn't big enough to support that (my dad works full time off the farm). After a defining conversation with my county extension ag agent, he proposed the idea of going into ag communications and hooked me up with a Purdue ag comm grad to chat with about it. I had no idea of what else to do with myself so I went to Purdue for ag comm.
*Graduated from Purdue with a degree in ag comm and a minor in entomology.
*Fell deeper in love and got engaged to this guy - this is certainly one of our finer moments!
*Interviewed and got job at AgriNews/ Married the man of my dreams (both happened within the span of about two months!)
* I've been at AgriNews for almost five years now and spend my days listening, learning and writing the stories of Indiana agriculture. I don't directly produce an ag commodity, but I get to travel to a lot of farms and meet a lot of people and I love it.
*Hubs and I help out around the farm when we can and enjoy being able to help keep the little farm churning.
And there you have it... that's the story of this Real Housewife of America!
Wanna read about other Real Farmwives of America? Check out some of these gals who are also participating!
Until next time...
Thanks to my friend, Heather, over at 3 kids and lots of pigs for coming up with the idea and hosting it, I get to be part of a series of posts titled Real Farmwives of America (get it? like Real Housewives of New Jersey/Atlanta/Orange County/ New York/ and any other city that wants to be portrayed as housing uppity 'housewives'?)
The RFOA is a part of Heather's regular Farmer Friday feature.
The RFOA is a part of Heather's regular Farmer Friday feature.
Except this group of gals is really real... not like those TV shows. And for the beginning of the series, all of us 'housewives' are doing a post on "how did I get here?"
(Sometimes, I pull in the drive at home after work and think that to myself... you know how you zone out when you make the same drive over and over and over again... yeah, it's like that)
If you're new to my blog, (Welcome!) my short story goes like this (with lots of pictures thrown in for good measure!)
*Farmer for a father as is his father and his father's father and so on and so forth... fell in love with agriculture from the beginning, even before I had any clue of the important role it plays in the world.
 |
| This is me at about 3 or 4 during the annual family trip to pick out pumpkins with my grandparents. (My shirt says, "my uncle is a paratrooper." It was one of my favorites as a kid.) |
*Heavily involved in 4-H and FFA through my formative years
 |
| (Yeah, that's right, pink glasses, braids, high-waisted jeans, the whole bit!) |
 |
| (This is right after I won county showmanship my last year of 4-H. You can tell how boyfriend (now Hubs) was pretty excited about how hot and sweaty I was... see all that slobber all over my arm, yeah, good times!) |
 |
| Receiving my American Degree in National Convention in Louisville with my parents. (My brother and future Hubs was there too!) |
*Graduated from Purdue with a degree in ag comm and a minor in entomology.
 |
| Graduation Day with my Grandma |
 |
| My dad asked me if my degree had my name on it or his since he'd written so many checks to the university! |
*Worked for Purdue Ag Comm for a bit.
*Fell deeper in love and got engaged to this guy - this is certainly one of our finer moments!
 |
| Who wouldn't want to marry a guy that is willing to take you in a mud fight?! |
*Interviewed and got job at AgriNews/ Married the man of my dreams (both happened within the span of about two months!)
 |
| Heading out to interview at AgriNews! |
 |
| Our Christmas wedding |
 |
| Interviewing a hardwoods buyer from Turkey |
And there you have it... that's the story of this Real Housewife of America!
Wanna read about other Real Farmwives of America? Check out some of these gals who are also participating!
o Heather at 3 Kids and Lots of Pigs
o Amy & Liz at 2 Maids A Milking
o Amy at A Latte with Ott, A.
o Marybeth at Alarm Clock Wars
o Leah at Beyer Beware
o Jennifer at Farmgirl Follies
o Jeanette at Fence Row to Fence Row
o Lauren at Four Ransoms and a Farm
o Jane at Going Jane
o Cris at GOODEness Gracious
o Meggie at Hoosier Farm Babe
o Jent at My Front Porch
o Katie at On the Banks of Squaw Creek
o Lana at Walking the Off-Beaten Path
o Denise at Who is the Grown Up?
Until next time...
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Mary Jo and the soldiers at the National Drive
Remember me telling you about my new friends from the National Drive?
Let’s move on now to Mary Jo’s story. (complete with photos of soldiers!)
If you want to know a whole lot more about Mary Jo, Google her. I am not kidding. She’s a pretty cool chick. Her last name is Beckman. (I don’t hesitate at all for putting that out there because, as you see once you Google her, plenty of other people are as impressed by her work as I was.)
So Mary Jo is a retired Navy commander and a certified NARHA therapeutic riding instructor and a driving instructor.
She volunteers for the Army and has helped set up a therapeutic riding program through the Army for all branches of armed services to help “wounded warriors,” as she calls them, and veterans.
She was at the 2010 National Drive with four of the soldiers who help her with the program. They are members of the Caisson Platoon in The Old Guard, technically known at the Army’s 3rd Infantry.
These active duty soldiers were at the National Drive to become certified drivers of this special carriage that was designed to be wheelchair accessible to help wounded warriors who want to learn to drive the carriage as opposed to -- or possibly because they are unable to -- ride a horse. The carriage was handmade in Holland and paid for (at a $20,000 price tag) by donations. (No tax dollars were spent in the making of this carriage... but even if my tax dollars were spent in the making of this carriage, I'd be totally good with that because it's just that awesome!)
Okay, that’s all really cool. You’ll have to read the story in AgriNews when it comes out. I’ll link it up here as soon as it’s live.
BUT… in meeting thesestudly…. hot….buff…young…polite soldiers, I also got to talk with them about what the Caisson Platoon is best known for - pulling the caisson with flag-draped caskets through Arlington National Cemetery for their fallen brothers.
It’s got to be a heavy job, but these guys do it with such class, I was impressed with each of them.
Then, Friday, I got down to doing more research on the Caisson. The detail, the history, the passion these guys have for this job just blows me away. I’m not going to attempt to rewrite it all, but here are a few tidbits.
* The soldiers in the Caisson Platoon (I think something said there were 51 of them now) care for the horses used in the funerals, parades and festivals. They also ride in the funerals, parades and festivals. (I think that same something mentioned that there were 52 horses)
*The stable, where these guys start every day at 4 AM, is ½ mile from Arlington.
*The Caisson horses are adopted out after they’ve served.
*The Caisson horses are all either part of a black team or a white (grey) team.
*The Caisson horses are also (I think) all donated to the Army.
*In training for the Caisson, the guys all have to hand make their own tack using sepcs from an 1890-something-ish manual to preserve authenticity.
*There are two tack rooms. Every horse on the grounds has two sets of tack. One is in use one week and the other set is being cleaned and polished. The tack is rotated weekly.
*The Caisson Platoon performs on average over 1,000 funerals each year.
*The soldiers in the Caisson Platoon have to meet height and weight requirements and are trained on how to be a horseman. One of the articles I read said the Army prefers to have soldiers with no horse experience when they join the unit so they can learn the Caisson way easier.
*There is a civilian farrier on duty all the time in the barns and one Caisson platoon member as an assistant. (Rick, the guy in the cowboy hat in my photo, is training to be a farrier for the Army through Caisson.)
*The Caisson barns -- built in the 1800s -- are open for tours daily from noon to 4 PM.
Forget the White House, if I ever get to Ft. Myer in Virginia, I was to go tour those barns and meet more of these guys. I think you all should, too!
Again, I was so impressed with these guys and how seriously they take their job, it really did make me proud to meet them.
Until the next adventure…
Let’s move on now to Mary Jo’s story. (complete with photos of soldiers!)
If you want to know a whole lot more about Mary Jo, Google her. I am not kidding. She’s a pretty cool chick. Her last name is Beckman. (I don’t hesitate at all for putting that out there because, as you see once you Google her, plenty of other people are as impressed by her work as I was.)
So Mary Jo is a retired Navy commander and a certified NARHA therapeutic riding instructor and a driving instructor.
She volunteers for the Army and has helped set up a therapeutic riding program through the Army for all branches of armed services to help “wounded warriors,” as she calls them, and veterans.
She was at the 2010 National Drive with four of the soldiers who help her with the program. They are members of the Caisson Platoon in The Old Guard, technically known at the Army’s 3rd Infantry.
These active duty soldiers were at the National Drive to become certified drivers of this special carriage that was designed to be wheelchair accessible to help wounded warriors who want to learn to drive the carriage as opposed to -- or possibly because they are unable to -- ride a horse. The carriage was handmade in Holland and paid for (at a $20,000 price tag) by donations. (No tax dollars were spent in the making of this carriage... but even if my tax dollars were spent in the making of this carriage, I'd be totally good with that because it's just that awesome!)
Okay, that’s all really cool. You’ll have to read the story in AgriNews when it comes out. I’ll link it up here as soon as it’s live.
BUT… in meeting these
It’s got to be a heavy job, but these guys do it with such class, I was impressed with each of them.
Then, Friday, I got down to doing more research on the Caisson. The detail, the history, the passion these guys have for this job just blows me away. I’m not going to attempt to rewrite it all, but here are a few tidbits.
* The soldiers in the Caisson Platoon (I think something said there were 51 of them now) care for the horses used in the funerals, parades and festivals. They also ride in the funerals, parades and festivals. (I think that same something mentioned that there were 52 horses)
*The stable, where these guys start every day at 4 AM, is ½ mile from Arlington.
*The Caisson horses are adopted out after they’ve served.
*The Caisson horses are all either part of a black team or a white (grey) team.
*The Caisson horses are also (I think) all donated to the Army.
*In training for the Caisson, the guys all have to hand make their own tack using sepcs from an 1890-something-ish manual to preserve authenticity.
*There are two tack rooms. Every horse on the grounds has two sets of tack. One is in use one week and the other set is being cleaned and polished. The tack is rotated weekly.
*The Caisson Platoon performs on average over 1,000 funerals each year.
*The soldiers in the Caisson Platoon have to meet height and weight requirements and are trained on how to be a horseman. One of the articles I read said the Army prefers to have soldiers with no horse experience when they join the unit so they can learn the Caisson way easier.
*There is a civilian farrier on duty all the time in the barns and one Caisson platoon member as an assistant. (Rick, the guy in the cowboy hat in my photo, is training to be a farrier for the Army through Caisson.)
*The Caisson barns -- built in the 1800s -- are open for tours daily from noon to 4 PM.
Forget the White House, if I ever get to Ft. Myer in Virginia, I was to go tour those barns and meet more of these guys. I think you all should, too!
Again, I was so impressed with these guys and how seriously they take their job, it really did make me proud to meet them.
Until the next adventure…
Monday, September 20, 2010
Whoa, Nelly… er… Patrick!
Brace yourself -- you’re about to learn something*
Ok loyal readers, (may I call you my loyal reader? regular readers? semi-annual readers?) I’m throwing my professionalism right out the window for this post because I am just so excited about it! Not excited in the same giddy way that teenage girls get over the Jonas Brothers (at least I don’t think so), but excited in an incredibly humbling way.
Here’s the scoop (that’s a newspaper term, “the scoop”). Yesterday, I went down to the Johnson County Horse Park in Edinburgh.
Upon arrival at the horse park, I was greeted by Laura Nuessle, a new director on the board of the National Drive, Mary Jo Beckman, a certified therapeutic riding and driving instructor, Mike Lyon, president of the National Drive and Charley Lee, another director.
Driving is a SPORT! I do not use that term lightly. These horses are trained athletes like nothing else I’ve ever seen. Laura drove the carriage -- she was the whip, as the driver is called -- and was a trainer of Patrick’s (the horse we took).
She told me that this horse could easily go 15 miles on trails or roads at a trot as exercise multiple times per week! That’s just EXERCISE, my friends! Shoot -- I can’t hardly go 15 minutes without breaking a sweat and this big guy was hoofing it right along like we three grown women (Mary Jo was with us as our navigator) and a carriage weren’t hooked to him. I had no idea that 1 horsepower could be so strong! Or so beautiful looking from the backside of him!
I didn’t take my camera along on the trail ride because #1. I didn’t know what I was in for, and #2. I didn’t want to break it or do something dumb that would spook the horse and tip the carriage over because of something goofy, like this particular horse couldn’t handle the sound of a shutter ‘click’ or something dorky like that. I didn’t want to take the chance. I didn’t want to look like a reporter, I guess. (Sometimes I make dumb decisions, what can I say?)
Anywhoo, Laura, Mary Jo, Patrick and I went out for our casual little ride, or so I thought. It was casual, sure, until Laura started showing me a glimpse of what it was like to do a driving competition.
Whoa, Buddy! (That’s what I was thinking, but again, didn’t want to look like a total fool and start screaming) We went a ripping and bouncing through the woods, over bridges, THROUGH A POND, through a makeshift house-obstacle-thing and all over the place.
And Patrick the horse was the coolest critter I’ve ever seen (don’t tell my dogs). He and Laura had such a strong relationship that anytime he would start to get concerned about where the trails were leading or if the path got narrow, all she had to do was use her “trainer voice” and remind him he was a good boy and he’d perk up and not hesitate.
It was incredible to be so close to these two as they worked together. It really was a testament to the trust he has in her and the numerous hours she had spent with him.
Don’t be fooled though - this sport is dangerous! A quaint wedding carriage this is not! This vehicle didn’t even have any seatbelts… intentionally! The seat of the carriages are designed so your body weight wedges you into it. (Which made me breath a sigh of relief because when I walked up to that carriage and saw that tiny seat my butt was supposed to fit in, I was more than a little concerned! But luckily, it was supposed to be that way.)
There aren’t any seatbelts because, according to my new friend Mary Jo (who was kind enough to give me a lesson on how to be a proper carriage passenger while my new friend Laura was harnessing up the horse) you need to not be strapped into the seat in the event the carriage loses control and I had to dismount quickly, i.e JUMP OUT OF A MOVING CARRIAGE BEING PULLED BY AN OUT OF CONTROL HORSE! (told you this wasn’t a leisurely ride)
It was a great time… I mean GREAT! My experience with horses is pretty limited, but once again, my awesome job gave me a chance to try something completely different that I NEVER would have any other way, I’m sure.
Stay tuned to read my next blog about Mary Jo and what the heck she was doing at the National Drive. It’s a pretty cool story in itself.
Until the next time....
*disclaimer: if you read this and feel you learned nothing, bummer for you and sorry if I got your hopes up!
Ok loyal readers, (may I call you my loyal reader? regular readers? semi-annual readers?) I’m throwing my professionalism right out the window for this post because I am just so excited about it! Not excited in the same giddy way that teenage girls get over the Jonas Brothers (at least I don’t think so), but excited in an incredibly humbling way.
Here’s the scoop (that’s a newspaper term, “the scoop”). Yesterday, I went down to the Johnson County Horse Park in Edinburgh.
My plan was to go and do a story on the National Drive, a gathering for equine drivers of carriages and carts and buggies (or for an all-encompassing term, vehicles), and then also do some sort of profile story on someone who was heavily involved in the sport in order to kill to birds with one stone… or in order to hitch two horses to one cart! (ha ha ha! I am too funny sometimes!)
But instead, what I got was quit a surprise.
First of all, I had NO idea what I was in for. Frankly, the name “National Drive” didn’t mean much to me and I had only decided it had something to do with horses because it was at the HORSE park -- I know, I’m pretty smart, right?!
So here’s the lowdown: these folks who drive carriages, carts, buggies, wagons…er… vehicles get together and practice, learn from each other, listen to professionals, teach each other and just spend some quality time together with other people who enjoy driving as much as they do.
 |
| Laura and Charley at National Drive 2009 (stole this off the ND Facebook page) |
Upon arrival at the horse park, I was greeted by Laura Nuessle, a new director on the board of the National Drive, Mary Jo Beckman, a certified therapeutic riding and driving instructor, Mike Lyon, president of the National Drive and Charley Lee, another director.
Lemme tell you, these folks treated me like a queen!
Not only did they give me the lowdown on the National Drive (you’ll have to read AgriNews to get all those details), but Laura and Mary Jo took me on a carriage ride!
Ok, now hold your horses (ha!), this wasn’t a carriage ride like you see newlyweds taking downtown at dusk in pristine white carriages. No sirreeee!
 |
| This is Charley hooking up his own team with his wife, Sherry. |
 |
| (notice their dog in the back, along for the ride) :) |
 |
| This is Laura and Charley |
Driving is a SPORT! I do not use that term lightly. These horses are trained athletes like nothing else I’ve ever seen. Laura drove the carriage -- she was the whip, as the driver is called -- and was a trainer of Patrick’s (the horse we took).
She told me that this horse could easily go 15 miles on trails or roads at a trot as exercise multiple times per week! That’s just EXERCISE, my friends! Shoot -- I can’t hardly go 15 minutes without breaking a sweat and this big guy was hoofing it right along like we three grown women (Mary Jo was with us as our navigator) and a carriage weren’t hooked to him. I had no idea that 1 horsepower could be so strong! Or so beautiful looking from the backside of him!
I didn’t take my camera along on the trail ride because #1. I didn’t know what I was in for, and #2. I didn’t want to break it or do something dumb that would spook the horse and tip the carriage over because of something goofy, like this particular horse couldn’t handle the sound of a shutter ‘click’ or something dorky like that. I didn’t want to take the chance. I didn’t want to look like a reporter, I guess. (Sometimes I make dumb decisions, what can I say?)
 |
| Patrick |
 |
| Patrick |
Whoa, Buddy! (That’s what I was thinking, but again, didn’t want to look like a total fool and start screaming) We went a ripping and bouncing through the woods, over bridges, THROUGH A POND, through a makeshift house-obstacle-thing and all over the place.
 |
| Stole this one off the ND Facebook page, too. (Is it still stealing if you admit to it?) |
It was incredible to be so close to these two as they worked together. It really was a testament to the trust he has in her and the numerous hours she had spent with him.
Don’t be fooled though - this sport is dangerous! A quaint wedding carriage this is not! This vehicle didn’t even have any seatbelts… intentionally! The seat of the carriages are designed so your body weight wedges you into it. (Which made me breath a sigh of relief because when I walked up to that carriage and saw that tiny seat my butt was supposed to fit in, I was more than a little concerned! But luckily, it was supposed to be that way.)
There aren’t any seatbelts because, according to my new friend Mary Jo (who was kind enough to give me a lesson on how to be a proper carriage passenger while my new friend Laura was harnessing up the horse) you need to not be strapped into the seat in the event the carriage loses control and I had to dismount quickly, i.e JUMP OUT OF A MOVING CARRIAGE BEING PULLED BY AN OUT OF CONTROL HORSE! (told you this wasn’t a leisurely ride)
It was a great time… I mean GREAT! My experience with horses is pretty limited, but once again, my awesome job gave me a chance to try something completely different that I NEVER would have any other way, I’m sure.
Stay tuned to read my next blog about Mary Jo and what the heck she was doing at the National Drive. It’s a pretty cool story in itself.
Until the next time....
*disclaimer: if you read this and feel you learned nothing, bummer for you and sorry if I got your hopes up!
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Labor Day Reflections
Happy Labor Day, everyone!
By my understanding, this holiday was created to honor the workingmen and workingwomen around this country. It’s supposed to be a day off from work in order to rest, relax and recoup.
Labor day is the unofficial end of summer, when cool mornings and brisk days begin to usher in the fall season. And in the world I live in, fall equals harvest time.
While I was enjoying my time off and driving through the countryside to meet up with some of my family, there they were – the farmers – in the fields, having no idea they were supposed to be relaxing and enjoying a long weekend.
Farmers know nothing about planned time off as laid out by a calendar or the summer/winter solstice. They work on their own schedules, which are often determined by the weather, and can be all switched up by a few drops of rain.
But as I took full advantage of my three-day weekend with beautiful weather by sleeping in and accomplishing only menial tasks, the farmers and producers were out in the fields and barns, as usual, carrying on their daily tasks of growing food for all of us.
So to all of the farmers, thank you. Thank you for working hard when the rest of us are resting our brains and bodies. Thank you for growing my food. Thank you for having the heart to do so and for choosing the life you have.
Thank you for raising your families on your farms and teaching your children what no education system can – a love for the environment, a respect for the animals and deep-seeded urgency to get the job done to the best of their abilities.
Much like another group of unsung heroes, the men and women of the armed forces, thank you for doing your jobs so that I can continue to do mine and go home each night to my family. Thank you for honoring your God-given gift of serving the land or the people so that I am free to continue to do the job and live the life I love.
To everyone out there who didn’t have to work today because of the holiday, I hope you’ll take the time to thank a farmer or a person in the service or at least send a quick word up to the Heavens for them.
Much like the great folks in the Army, Navy, Military, Air Force, Coast Guard, National Guard, etc., farmers need your prayers for safety, too. While far from a war zone, the fields, the barnyards and around the heavy equipment can all be dangerous places.
You’ll all be in my prayers today as we celebrate Labor Day as well as every other day that I have the chance to get up and go to work.
Thank you for feeding me, protecting me and trusting me to write the articles that tell your stories.
Happy Labor Day and until the next adventure...
Monday, August 30, 2010
Did you know....
.... AgriNews has a blog?
Well, it isn't a blog-blog per say, (not like this high-quality web site you have in front of you! ha ha ha!) but it's a spot in these here Internets where wereporters field editors can post a little bit about our opinions and views and fun stories about what we've been up to. And, as reporters, we don't often get the chance to tell anyone what we really think about them their presentation/farms/philosophical approach to life.
There's a new one every Monday, Wednesday and Friday and it is written by someone different each time.
Once every couple a'weeks I turn in my own opinion column and it magically shows up on the web page.
So if you can't get enough of me -- thanks, I know you love me -- you can find more of my ramblings and the other AgriNews reporters' field editors' rants and raves through the AgriNews homepage - just look for the "Opinions" tab (because trust me - I have opinions!)
Check us out.... we're pretty awesome... you're going to love us!
Until the next adventure...
Well, it isn't a blog-blog per say, (not like this high-quality web site you have in front of you! ha ha ha!) but it's a spot in these here Internets where we
There's a new one every Monday, Wednesday and Friday and it is written by someone different each time.
Once every couple a'weeks I turn in my own opinion column and it magically shows up on the web page.
Check us out.... we're pretty awesome... you're going to love us!
Until the next adventure...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
