Showing Off Our Tractor Pulling Pride

One thing for sure in the Midwest... we sure do love our tractors.  Red, Green, Orange, Black, Blue, and my personal favorite RUST; we argue over tractor colors like we do our football teams.  The Farmall boys laugh at the putt putt of John Deeres.  The John Deere boys are proud of their green.  All the while, the Oliver boys standby and take home the trophies.  There is no denying however, that at the end of the day, no matter the color, we love to admire a shiny coat of paint and are impressed with how each tractor maneuvers down the track.

Each year the Mid-Michigan Old Gas Tractor Association puts on a show for people of all ages to enjoy. From the steam barn displays, to the garden tractor pullers, there is something for everyone.  There are traditions in place and some still to be made.  I always make sure to get my homemade vanilla ice cream from the local Amish and my baked potato with pulled pork and cheese on top!  In addition, I am sure one of these days my husband will let me bring home a puppy from the petting barn:)

On Friday, the junior pullers get to show off how much they have practiced and create memories with their parents.  The discussion of how to line up to the boat and the best way to watch the track are fueled with pride of wanting your child to learn and succeed.

During the evening, it is time for the older daughters and wives to not only show off the tractors, but show their dads and husbands how to really pull.  From the sideline, young girls watch their mothers, patiently waiting for when they are old enough to pull the big tractors.

As the evening winds down, we go back to our campsites for a fire and a cold beer.  Conversations over time have changed drastically the older we become.  What once was "Someone stop Tim from driving his golf cart through the track", at 4:00 am, has now become "Where's Tim?.....Sleeping with the wife and baby" at 10:30 pm.  Though the conversations may have changed, the friends and good memories grow on.

Come Saturday morning, we scarf down the pancake breakfast and begin prepping the little ones for the pedal pull.  Young one's stand along the track anxiously waiting their turn at what is hopefully a full pull. The youngest of pullers are happy with their sucker as a reward, while the older children have learned the concept of winning and losing.  It makes a parent proud to hear their child cry not because they lost, but because they felt they did not try their hardest.

The grounds quickly become alive after the pedal pull, as parade tractors are lining up and weigh-in begins for the Saturday dead-weight pulls.  The steam engine sounds, the flag is raised and the national anthem is sung.  Everyone disperses to what interests them or where the work needs to be done.

The Saturday pull brings on the purest of pullers; those who like to focus on the challenge and the physics of pulling.  Old rivals meet up as friends to discuss the track condition, while old friends meet up as rivals to discuss the performance of new tractors.

By Sunday, the sense that summer is coming to a close is lingering in all our minds, as we prepare for the transfer sled pull.  You can feel people trying to enjoy the moment knowing that, come Monday, real life and work begins again.  As the State Championship trophies are awarded, people begin to disappear to load up their equipment and campers to head home.

As the last trophy is awarded, and the announcement booth is closed for yet another year, the discussion has already started about what will be done to the tractors for the following year.

Within the heart of this club, tractor pullers run deep, and as the new generation grows, I hope we can keep it this way.

To the Men in My Life

It is a beautiful Sunday in the Midwest!  The sun is shining, the sky is a bright blue, and the grass has finally turned green.  It is a little cool (around 60 in the shade) so I am sure my mother is freezing.  As I am sitting outside watching my dog sun bath, I posted the Happy Father's day message to my dad on Facebook.  However, sometimes I feel as if more needs to be said.  Perhaps it is the middle-aged syndrome I have been facing lately, my sentimental side beginning to be exposed, but I feel sometimes a father's role in his daughter's life can be overlooked by a simple wedding dance.  The hallmark commercials all seem to focus on this one event between a dad and little girl, or perhaps it is that scene where she heads off to college.  But, there really is so much more.

My dad taught me how to squish jello and whip cream through my teeth, much to the dismay of my mother.  He taught me how to grab a fish so it wouldn't flop around the boat or be lost back into the water.  He taught me how to play horse in the drive way, and the day I told him I wanted to be a cheerleader, I am sure I broke his heart.  My mother attempted to raise three girls, by dad raised us to be tom boys.   There were times of anger and times of tears, like the time I made him so angry he was down in his basement workshop for an hour, only to produce a wood paddle with holes in it.  Let's just say that paddle hung on the wall as a very basic reminder to us:)  My father played an important role in who I am today and I am reminded of this everyday.

My Grandpa Eichorn (Dad's dad) taught me how to shoot a bow.  To this day, I remember thinking shaking your arms was how you got a bulls eye (he unfortunately suffered from Parkinson's).  He gave me cheese on my birthday wrapped in foil, so I wouldn't eat his.  He protected me from the roosters in his barn yard and showed me how to dig up potatoes in the garden.  And he also explained that the only way to enjoy the ball game was with the radio on and bag of peanuts at your side.  He always smelled like chewing tobacco and had a pipe by his side.

My Grandpa Melow (Mom's dad) passed away before I had the opportunity to meet him.  The pictures I see and and the stories I am told create an image in my mind, but I would have loved to have known him.

Finally, my husband, though not a father yet, shows the patience of one.  He has been there to support me through my tough times and laugh with me through the good.  He has taught me how to drive a tractor, how to focus on my dreams, and provides me with great advice on life's decisions.  We will grow old together, enjoying the sunset from our gazebo, and reminiscing about the time we first met.

To the men in my life I thank you from the bottom of my heart.  I wish I could make copies of you and share you with the my children at work, who will not receive the same support and love I have over the years.

The Top Ten Countdown of Coming into our Prime

While I normally write about food, over the past couple of weeks it seems that there is a growing phenomenon I must discuss.  The fact that my friends and I are becoming "middle-aged" has not gone unnoticed.  It has become the leading topic of conversation, even more so than the newly born babies and accomplishments of our careers.  So, to honor these conversations, I have developed the top ten problems of becoming muddle-aged or as I like to call it coming into my prime.  This post is dedicated to my very close friends:)

10.  The whole weight loss thing.
My mother always used to say "watch what you eat, it will catch up with you someday."  And of course as a tween, teen, and twenty-something you ignored every word of it.  Until one day you look in the mirror and just say, damn she was right.  I have come to the realization that I will never look like I did in my twenties, but I am not sure that is a bad thing:)

9.  Discovering on a Friday night that you are yet again watching a rerun of The Big Bang Theory.
I, as much as the next person, LOVE this show so don't get me wrong, But that moment when you are sitting on the couch on a Friday night and watching yet another rerun kind of puts it in perspective.  You are in a rut!  Get your ass of that couch and do something!!!!!

8.  The realization that your husband's hair is never growing back.
Ok, to be honest, my husband has never had hair:)  love you honey.

7.  All the conversations you encounter revolve around kids.
Babies, schools, sports, diapers, play dates, daycare, reading levels, achievements.
What ever happened to the conversation of who was screwing who and what bar we were going to?  Or what classes we were taking, places we were going to travel, and dreams we were going to achieve.

6.  You wear spanx to church.
This one I am so claiming and not as a bad thing.  It may have taken me fifteen minutes to put the damn things on, but it was so worth it.

5.  Buying stock in Tylenol and not because of hangovers.
My head hurts, my back is stiff, my knee is swollen, I pulled a muscle.....all from running a mile!

4.  The discovery of "cracks" as my niece would say.
My niece Mia told my father he had cracks all over his face.  I love this saying:)  However, I have discovered that yes, I to have those same cracks developing.

3.  To dye or not to dye that is the question.
My husband discovered some gray strands in my hair the other day.  I always told myself that I would go gray naturally.......maybe.

2.  Becoming a "morning" person.
When the hell did 5:00 am become the time to get up versus go to bed?

1.  Never having enough time.
We always wanted time to speed up so that we could be free adults.  Now that it is here, it seems like time goes to fast.  There is not enough time in the day to accomplish all the work, not enough time in a weekend to hangout with friends, and not enough time in a year to make the moments count.  I would now like to slow down time, rekindle friendships, and make each moment a memory to last a life time.

My Culinary Adventures

So, after a long day of tackling the educational world's toughest problems, what is a girl to make for dinner?  Tonight, we will take an adventure down a harrowing path that involves a cast iron skillet, bacon, onion and.....liver.

Every year my husband and I receive a quarter of beef and every year we give his aunt the heart, liver, and tongue.  Not this year!  Nope!  My husband really wanted to eat the liver.  He indicated to me that he had ate liver growing up and liked it.  So after stalling for about, oh a year, I finally gave up the fight and made the liver.  I, myself, have never really ate liver, and I can now say I will never eat it again.

My adventure began with a little research.  I figured, who better to teach me how to cook liver than "The American Woman's Cook Book" circa 1940.  This cookbook has everything in it for a culinary adventure; Codfish Balls, Braised Tongue with Aspic Jelly, Turtle Ragout, and of course Sardine Sandwiches.  But most importantly, it belonged to Nick's Grandma Kate.

I decided that out of the five different liver recipes, the liver and bacon description sounded like the safest bet.  After all, everything is better with bacon!  Guess what....not liver.

The moment I pulled the liver out of the package I cringed.  The slimy texture was enough to throw any person off their game.  I took a deep breath, and followed the directions step-by-step, knowing the whole time that this was not going to be good.

I took great care in the plating of the liver thinking that would make it better.  My husband, remember the one who wanted the liver, insisted that it was tender, cooked well, and smelled good.  But the moment he took a fork full I could see the change in his expression.  "I think my liver days are through" he indicated.  He was a sport about eating some, I took my required bite, and the rest went into the trash.  Even Liddy took a bite with excitement, only to be disappointed that it was not steak.

After the kitchen was cleaned and I ate my yogurt for dinner, I sat back and flipped through "The American Woman's Cook Book" with the smell of liver in the air.  I noted a cookie recipe with Grandma Kate's handwriting "no good" next to it.

 So without hesitating, I opted to keep the tradition alive and made my own notation for my future grandchildren.

 

Winter Squall

As the saying goes in Michigan, "Don't like the weather?  Wait ten minutes."  I wish this were true for this winter we are having.  Usually by now we would have had some 40 degree days that would take the blues away.  Unfortunately, we are having a good old fashioned Midwest winter.  A lot of snow and a lot of cold.  So as much as I would like to write about other topics, the winter blues are on my mind and photography.  All I have for landscape right now is snow, snow, and more snow!  It took this picture the other night.  I thought the wind and drifting, while sharp and piercing, created quite a majestic view.

 Until the next morning when I attempted to go get groceries.  That beautiful scene the night before created this winter squall in my drive way.  I took my husband three hours to clear it all out!

The "Subarctic"

So, it has been just a tad cold in Michigan.  The type of weather were your nose hairs freeze together the moment you step outside and the wind bits through you like a steel blade.  I am talking cold.  However, I do find it comical when people in the Midwest complain about the cold.  Don't get me wrong, there are some downfalls to this type of weather.  Our pipes froze the other day and I can't do any re-purposing projects because it is just too cold in my workshop.

However, there are some great perks to the "subarctic" weather.  It gives me a great excuse to stay inside and curl up with a good book. And let me tell you, there is nothing better then a piping hot cup of coffee when it is a negative 15 degrees, no matter what time of day it is.

(The link's to both the bread recipe and coffee creamer directions are under "My Cravings Satisfied).

My dog, Liddy, has also taught me the art of sun bathing during the cold temps.  I have found her walking around and examining each spot until she finds the warmest one.  Let's just say she not exacting part husky.

My husband, Nick, will also openly admit he likes the cold weather.  It think he actually enjoys pushing snow, starting a fire in the wood stove, and the comfort food I whip up this time of year.  However, he does become a bit restless and finds an excuse to use a tractor even with only an inch of snow!

The winter is a time of rest and relaxation.  Even though I am busy at work, when home, there is time to think creatively, read something inspiring, and appreciate the warmth of family.  I enjoy nothing more than throwing a bunch of pillows and blankets down and enjoying family cuddle time during these dark, cold months.

But it is not always dark and cold, the winter at times gives us some stunning images.