About This Blog

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I have loved things Country and Western all of my life. I have loved the ranches and farms, the work, the fields, the barns, livestock, and the food. I was born and raised in Kentucky where I learned to ride and care for horses. Most of my family lived on farms and/or were livestock producers. I have raised various livestock and poultry over the years.I have sold livestock feed and minerals in two states. My big hats and boots are only an outward manifestation of the country life I hold dear to my heart. With the help of rhyme or short story, in recipes or photos, I make an effort in this blog to put into words my day to day observations of all things rural; the things that I see and hear, from under my hat. All poems and short stories, unless noted otherwise, are authored by me. I hope you enjoy following along.

Tuesday, May 26, 2015

Memorial Day Thoughts

 Note: Decided to re-post this during this Memorial Day week.
 
 My thoughts over the Memorial Day weekend were on freedom. I know that this is hardly a bolt from the blue, given that Memorial Day is all about remembering those who have paid the supreme sacrifice for the preservation of our country and its ideals. But, as I traveled across the Midwest this past Saturday and Sunday, enjoying the view from the car, I was struck again by the beauty of our country. As the miles rolled by, I felt again a clear understanding of the enormous breadth of our nation. And, as my son-in-law Mike expressed, "we must be thankful that we live in a country where we are free to just get in a vehicle and go." Anywhere.

As my oldest grandson Kirkland, my son-in-law, and I were driving to near the West Virginia line, my wife, daughter and two other grandsons were driving to Missouri. My car load was bound for a wild hog hunt in southeast Ohio, my wife’s vehicle was heading for St. Louis to the Zoo and Science museum. It struck me that, here was my family going in two different directions, traveling hundreds of miles across our great nation, never hindered by armed guards at check points, travel documents, or visas. We just put the keys in the ignition, pointed the car in right direction, and drove. We crossed one state line after another with ease and freedom. And we enjoyed the scenic view along the way.

The scene changed constantly as the ribbon of blacktop passed quickly under us. We witnessed the growing green fields of corn and beans. The amber fields of ripening wheat.The rivers and creeks were blue and green, and fishermen and boaters alike were out in force. The flat plains  eventually rose to become rolling hills. Set against a clear blue sky, the varying green peaks of southeastern hills put a crick in our necks as we stretched to see the tops.

Horses and cattle grazed in pastures that were wrapped in white or black wooden fences. We passed through quaint villages of old brick buildings and painted clapboard houses, with folks sitting on their porches. We saw cityscapes with high rises pointed skyward, looking for all the world like a steel and glass Stonehenge. From major metropolitan areas to tiny towns lost in another age and time, we rode through the heartland and admired the great diversity of our country.

Both carloads of us kept abreast of the others travel by an exchange of texts, pictures and phone calls that reached out over three states. I received pictures of my wife Patty, daughter Melissa, and grandsons Kameron and Karter as they explored the zoo, took in the museum, and ate at various restaurants through their two day travel. I sent pictures of rolling livestock-grazed hillsides, a covered bridge, the hunting lodge, and of course the 450 pound wild hog that Kirkland harvested with his bow. My daughter, Jennifer, and her family crossed their home state of Kentucky for a little road trip. We were all states apart travelling freely, speaking to each other freely, and loving the family time adventures. All because we were free to enjoy it, as law abiding citizens of the United States of America.
 

We enjoyed our holiday weekend, on separate trips together. As a Desert Storm veteran, I understood that the time we were enjoying had come at a cost, and that brothers and sisters in the military continue to this day to safeguard our liberties. I loved seeing our flag flying at every turn. From cemeteries and village street corners, to grand residences and humble country shacks, many folks displayed the red, white and blue with pride and patriotism.
 
As we made our way back to the Chicken Ranch, lines from our national musical heritage kept playing in my mind, “Oh beautiful for spacious skies, for amber waves of grain, for purple mountains majesties above the fruited plain..” and from our National Anthem “Oh say does that Star Spangled Banner yet wave, o’er the land of the free, and the home of the brave.”
 
What a place this America is. What a people we Americans are.

 What a grand and wonderful right we possess. This right that we oft take for granted, enjoy all our days, and will fight to the death to maintain.  How wonderful... this thing we call FREEDOM.