I remember it was on a sunny day in September that I arrived at Pullman, Washington airport. Professor J and his wife picked me up and then we headed to Moscow, where I would attend graduate school at the University of Idaho. Sitting in their car and looking out of the window, I saw golden wheat crops sway in the wind bathing under the sun. “It’s beautiful here,” I said.
I stayed in Idaho for one semester. During that semester, Norma, my host family Mom, took me to her house many times. Once I, again, commented on how beautiful those wheat fields looked, Norma introduced me something called “dryland farming”. “You mean all I need to do is planting and harvesting and nothing else?” I asked. “Pretty much so. Mother Nature will take care of a lot of things,” she said. My conclusion of that conversation was: I wanted to be a farmer. After all, I am, sort of, one of them 😉
I was in love with the farmland. And I still am. Every time we drove by a farmhouse on a country road, I wish we could stop by to say hi to the farmers and, maybe, have a cup of coffee with them.
Last Sat. my neighbor Paul and Kelly invited us to Paul’s uncle’s farm. Their house looks exactly like one of those houses that I wanted to stop by! As soon as I walked in the house, I had that “this is home” feeling, which I don’t usually get from modern houses.
In the farm, adults didn’t check their phones; kids didn’t play with tablets; No beers and no soft drinks (as far as we could tell.)
Watching kids play, I thought of Mark Twain. My appreciation for writers deepened.
I had a happy day in the farm. Thanks to Paul and Kelly. Thanks for visiting my blog.