Busy, Busy Week

All the laundry is done. I still need to put it away and stow the sleeping bags, but life is starting to get back to normal after a week away in the Appalachian Mountain region of Kentucky.

LittleD, BabyD and I ventured out with a group of girls who attend their middle school and five other grownups for a week of service to the people who live in one of the nation's poorest counties.

I have much to say about what we did and saw.

The girls may add their 2 cents along the way.

But, having survived my first mission trip, I must say I have a new appreciation for how blessed my life really is.

Lots of Work To Be Done

Our hosts had quite a few work projects lined up before we arrived. A couple fell through for various reasons, so we just shifted our efforts to what we could do. Here's a look at how our To Do List ended up for the week:

• Slather 20 gallons of white wall primer on interior concrete block walls of a newly constructed church


• Paint said classroom and office walls, brown, green, blue and peach


• Construct wooden steps for a tired, but still in-use, house trailer perched on the side of a hill (that had a leaking septic system in the vicinity of the front door)


• Clear nails, glass, metal and debris from the approach to a deck and stairs that remained from a trailer that had been burned out, so they could be moved to another site


• Help organize and clean out a rather large warehouse filled with donated construction supplies, paint and tools


• Haul, sort and hang donated clothing for a second-hand shop that supplies low-cost linens and clothes to those in need in the area


• Clear branches and trash from a rec center grounds


• Help an elderly woman by fixing her doors and windows that would not close properly


• Attempt to (and ultimately give up on) restore the walls of a house trailer that was trashed by a woman's drug-addicted husband who was angered by their divorce, leaving her homeless

The list of things we could've done was much, much longer.

Honestly, I'm not sure there will ever be an end.

We were working in Lee County, KY, where the average annual household income is less than $23,000, and unemployment is higher than 12 percent. While the county did boast a country club (believe it or not), the poor visible condition of so many of the homes in the area was sad. I'm not talking about minor, cosmetic issues. I'm referring to the small houses and trailers with cardboard stapled over the broken-out windows. Or mobile homes with siding and insulation falling off the structures.

I couldn't help but wonder how these folks manage to stay warm and dry--especially when the temps dipped into the upper 20s overnight, like it did during out week there. Even the daytime highs in the mid-40s were no match for the cold drizzle that fell nearly all week long, leaving us all chilled to the bone after working outside. That led to Revelation #1:

Heat: It's a Wonderful Thing

Our living accommodations for the week were very basic. We stayed in small cabins that are part of a summer camp facility that is rarely used outside of the June-September busy season. Needless to say, the tiny wooden cabins were not insulated or heated. We brought small electric heaters to run during the night, hoping to counteract the draft coming in from the small air conditioning unit in the wall (that is undoubtedly appreciated in August!).

The first night there, BabyD actually climbed into my sleeping bag to stay warm. I was so cold, I was more than happy to share my little twin-sized bunk just for the extra body heat!

The dash to the restroom/showers in the chilly morning air only served to help wake us up. As did the lack of heat in the shower house!

That's what really got me to thinking: There are probably a lot of people in this area who live like this all the time--little or no heat, either because of the condition of their homes or because they can't afford to pay for heat. Honestly, seeking out a few minutes of warmth became an obsession by the end of the second day.

Made me grateful for what seems like one of the basics of life.

Mission Trip Revelation #2: Who Is The Grown Up?

In case you've been wondering, the origins of the title of this blog date back to a question my 13-year-old daughter likes to throw out every now and then. Especially when she thinks she can top Mom on something. That's just what happened, technology-wise, the day she tagged along with me to a blogging workshop put on by buddy Cris at GoodenessGracious. We created the blog, and hence the name.

That "Who Is The Grown Up?" question came to my mind during last week's spring break adventure/mission trip to the Appalachian region of Kentucky. I've been doing a few posts about it this week, because it gave me a lot to think about and realize. Among them including:

Revelation #2: Who Is The Grown Up? It Just Might Be The Kids!

The eight middle school girls (two of whom were my daughters) who went on the trip last week showed an amazing amount of maturity in many ways. And, for me, my girls especially. But, this past week, my girls really encouraged me by their behavior and their attitudes. And I'm starting to think that they might--just might--not end up as drop-out, drug-addicted, criminals with a mile-long juevie-record before they turn 18. (Which is actually a commentary on my maternal equivalent to hypochondria--my fear that I'm ruining my kids by bad parenting!)

During our journey, LittleD and BabyD demonstrated a great deal of maturity in dealing with unfamiliar people and less-than-pleasant situations. All the while with grace, helpful hearts and good attitudes.

Not once did they complain that when they were outside working in 40-degree rain to dig and set stair railing in what looked (and smelled!!) to be raw sewage seeping to the surface of the yard of one family's house trailer. Nor did they complain, even after three straight days of priming and painting the interior walls of a newly constructed church that was not yet heated. Nary a word while helping with a project to restore a woman's totally trashed house trailer that her druggie ex-husband nearly destroyed when she kicked him out. (I'll likely comment more on that situation when I have time to blog one more time about our trip in general.) They didn't even grumble when they spent tedious hours sorting, organizing and moving "stuff" in a warehouse that supplies building materials to underprivileged people at no charge.

The girls were excited to attend Wednesday night Bible study at the little pole barn where the congregation currently meets that will soon be moving into the new church building. They were glad to have the chance to meet some of the people who would benefit from their efforts. They really wanted to put a face on the community and get to know the folks down there. Both girls worked hard all week.

Highpoint about LittleD: Her history teacher, who was part of the trip leadership, went out of his way to tell me how hard she worked, with little instruction and no continuing supervision when she was on his project team one day.

Highpoint about BabyD: When she was leaving with a project team to dig the smelly post holes for staircase railings in the rain (and it was 40 degrees), I asked if she was going to she was going to be okay and warm enough to do that task. "No, but I'm on a mission trip, and it's not about what I want to do," she said.

The Sunday School class I'm taking right now at our church has a parenting focus. During our last class, we were challenged to consider what we, as parents, are doing right--instead of constantly beating ourselves up for "blowing it." I admit I beat myself up a lot. But the girls really were an encouragement to me--not that I'm doing anything particularly right in my parenting, except living by the grace of God.

My girls (unlike some unnamed other teens on the trip!) actually know how to wash dishes by hand. And they know how to clean a sink and scrub a toilet. (Kudos to BabyD who didn't bat an eye about doing potty duty on clean up day at the camp!) I feel good that, while they are not so enthusiastic about chores at home, my girls can--and will--survive because they've learned the basics of life.

Last week showed me just how my (not-so-baby-anymore) girls are growing up to be intelligent, talented and hard-working young women. And, considering their hard-working attitudes (compared to my own whining about the cold), I realized they just might (almost!) be grown ups!

I Don't Do My Hair... My Hair Does Me

I've long contended that I don't do my hair, but my hair does me.

I don't know what was going on today, but I had four--count them: 4!!--people tell me my hair looked really, really good today.

What the heck was going on? I don't know!

All I did was (hold on to your seats, ladies, here comes The BigD Beauty Tip O' The Week):

Part it on the other side.

(I can hear the breath being sucked out of you in utter shock from here!)

I guess I haven't done that in a while, and it seems it was quite the hit. Go figure.

Honestly, if I had my way, I'd revert to an era when hats were socially acceptable on a day-to-day basis. And not baseball caps, either.

I would've made a darn-good royal. I don't know why we commoners can't wear hats, too. I think all of us women who have frizzy locks, cow licks and graying tresses need to band together to bring back The Hat as a common, everyday fashion accessory!

Is anyone with me on this one?

You can't have a Bad Hair Day, when you have a Great Hat Day!

I must admit, I did give this a try once. A few years ago, my church was having a ladies dinner/event one evening that had a hat theme. So, I say to myself, just giddy with excitement, "What better excuse to wear a hat all day?"

So, I put on the perfect chapeau to compliment my favorite suit, which--if I say so myself--resulted in a lovely spring ensemble ready to take on anything. And I went to work, beaming.

The second person I run into was my boss. He started to ask me something, then just stopped. I prompted him to continue. His reply?

"I had something to say, but the hat totally distracted me."

I need a new boss.

This Week's Working Mom Wednesday Question:
#1. Having a career/job makes me a better/ worse mother. (why/why not?)
A: I think it makes me better. I just don't have the temperament of those women who stay home with their kids all day. God has blessed me with a certain level of patience, to which He is adding to daily. However, I don't think He doled out that much to me.

My girls know a lot about what I do. They spend time (entire days, sometimes) with me at my work. I think I've helped them have some perspective on career options.

I will, however, instill in them that they have a choice about working--not the message I got from my working mom. I went into motherhood pretty-much thinking I had to work to be a productive member of the marriage/family. I never considered not working--until I had kids. I just didn't know any better, I guess.

Regardless, I really enjoy my work and I think I'd be a really anal, obsessive, helicopter mom if I didn't. And I think that makes my kids better, too.

Livin' Out of Town: An Appreciation for the Farm Life

Today, I'm part of a group linkup "Real Farmwives of America." Our hostess is Heather at 3 Kids and Lots of Pigs as part of her regular "Farmer Friday" feature. The question posed to us all is:

"How did you get here?" My family's farm story.

As you know, I have two daughters. And they are becoming a statistic.
Like so many Americans, they are growing up further away from the farm than the generation before them.

I grew up on a small farm with lots going on in various phases and combinations--corn, tobacco, hogs, cattle, goats, chickens, pickling cucumbers. Not many like it anymore in today's world of specialization. But it was a great place to grow up.

I realized, even before they were born, my kids would not grow up with the experiences I had: hours mending fences with my dad, feeding goats, castrating pigs, rounding up loose cows, walking the field to pick up corn the combine missed (we were a thrifty bunch), gathering and cleaning eggs for the local grocery, stripping tobacco. Those were some of the sights, sounds and smells of my youth. (To this day, nothing smells as sweet as a tobacco barn in the fall... nothing like a burning cigarette!)

Those were the experiences, along with my years in FFA and 4H, that really shaped my education and career choices.

So, after a few years in the 'burbs, when The Husband and I had to uproot and move back to Indiana, I succeeded in convincing him to buy our 10-acre plot of land a few miles outside of our little town. Here, we rent out the "back 40", er, 7 (along with a couple adjoining neighbors) to a local farmer, who share-crops corn or soybeans with us every year.

Because of this little homestead, my girls have had the opportunity to sample some of the blessings and experiences that their suburban classmates are missing, like riding a combine in the fall and watching the soybeans sprout in the spring. They have the chance to work with the dairy cows on a generous neighbor's farm for their 4H projects, learning what's involved in caring for large animals (including the manure!). They have friends who raise pigs and friends who raise sheep. This life comes with an appreciation that our food doesn't just come from Kroger.
While it's not exactly the same as growing up on a real-live working farm, it's the best I can provide--and that is something very important to me.

So, I don't call myself a "Farmwife" my any measure. That would be an insult to all those hard-working gals married to real farmers.

If you ask The Husband, he's more likely tell you I'm the farmer around here.

Our little plot of land (which is just enough to require us to file an Agricultural Tax Form with the IRS each year) doesn't need the blood, sweat and tears that so many American families put forth every day to feed some 150 other people.

Instead, my day-to-day job is more of a support role, in which I get to educate and communicate with farmers, as well as veterinarians and consumers about issues related to animal health and care and food safety. While I play a very small part in a very big picture, I'm proud that I can be involved with the industry I love.

If you want to check out other stories of Real Farmwives of Indiana, visit my friends at:

3 Kids and Lots of Pigs

2 Maids A Milking

A Latte with Ott, A

Alarm Clock Wars

Beyer Beware

Farm Girl Follies

Fence Row to Fence Row

Four Ransoms and a Farm

Going Jane

GOODEness Gracious

Hoosier Farm Babe

My Front Porch

On the Banks of Squaw Creek

Life is a Highway and Mine's Surrounded by Corn

Walking the Off-Beaten Path