Off to Kansas

Yes, I’ve been out on the farm for two whole days now, and I’ve been overwhelmed with over 1,000 thousand emails asking why I haven’t posted anything yet. (OK, I might be exaggerating slightly. Maybe by 999.)

Basically I’ve been on KP and gopher duty, which has consisted of bringing Chinese food from the grocery store Chinese Kitchen to the field for lunch, and making sack lunches of roast beef sandwiches, Doritos and fresh veggies for dinner. And cookies for dessert both times, of course. I was also on hostess duty for my aunt, cousin and her four kids this afternoon. As I write this (Tuesday evening), I’m on my third trip “to town” today, but unlike the first (deposit checks) and second (get filters for the tractor at John Deere), this one is purely for fun. I am currently enjoying a glass of refreshing lemoney beer with my pal Mrs. Firewife.

During my several hours in the car, I was thinking about all the things that I’ve been wanting to blog about, and I figured I’d start at the beginning of the trip.

Mr. Farmer was at my house on Sunday to chauffer me to the airport, which proved to be a bit more complicated than normal, given the Pride Parade happening directly outside my window — and blocking cross-town traffic for a good mid-section of the city. In the 15-minute window before our designated departure time, not only did it start raining, but we had to coordinate a key exchange with my very astute cat sitter, who was hilariously chatty from being drunk off his ass from imbibing the festivities.

Finally we were out the door, and literaly as the door shut behind us, a young lady dropped her trousers on my bushes to take a pee. (Apparently she didn’t see the port-a-john four feet from her.)

Once we were out in the masses with my suitcase in tow, we crossed the parade street in front of some scantily clad entrants, and made it to the truck unscathed. Traffic however, was daunting — and luckily it took us only an hour, despite the traffic report saying it was 42 minutes to the airport once we would reach the highway.

Sigh.  A whole 70 minutes until my flight! I’m never this early. And there was no one in the security line.

So I let my very bad habit come to life. I bought a hundred magazines and books. I simply can’t decide what I want to read. So I buy a bunch of stuff, knowing that I’ll only be interested in 10% of it once I read the first 2 pages of it.

I’d already brought the following (which Mr. Farmer thought was excessive):

  • US Weekly
  • A biography of Darwin (purchased back in January)
  • “Veronica” by Mary Gaitskill — about two friends (a model and an office temp) in 1980s NY (purchased in the airport on a trip in April)
  • “Cheat and Charmer” by Elizabeth Frank — about a sister act in 1950s night clubs (purchased a year ago)

I proceeded to purchase…

  • Scientific American — it had an article about no-till farming
  • Forbes — Heidi Klum is on the cover
  • Self — because I need to exercise
  • The new Lauren Weisberger book, which you’re going to have to look up the title of yourself, or Mr. Farmer might think I’m hinting

Interestingly, Scientific American is the one that caught my interest on the flight. The article about no-till farming was quite engaging, as it told about the various revolutions in agriculture — talking about this one as a “silent” but big one. There were also articles about prehistoric migrations tracked by genetics (my aunt/uncle talked about this one at Christmas a couple years ago and had contributed a swab of their cheeks to the database), and the neuroscience of dancing. (Yes, I geeked out.)

After all that, I had to keep my sanity by reading about Jake Gyllenhall moving in with Reese Witherspoon in US.

And there it stopped. I’ve read six pages in the Lauren Weisberger book since then, and that’s it. I obviously have an addiction.

(Fast forward…) I’ve written this post in phases, and now it’s Wednesday afternoon. I had lunch with Mrs. Physical Therapy, which I managed to pull off only under the condition that I would bring lunch to the crew. Now I’m headed out to ride with Brother DIY while he plants soybeans, then over to Mom on the tractor/grain cart while I wait for Dad to make a round in the combine. We’re watching the clouds build in the west for a supposed thunderstorm tonight.

Then I’m off to Wichita to see Mrs. Marketing Director and her new baby, have dinner with my old creative director and pick-up Mr. Farmer, all in the hopes that he can see a sliver of harvest tonight before it storms.

Let’s hope the green Buick doesn’t overheat on the Interstate. It’s sitting with it’s hood open in the driveway.

 

 

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