Allow yourself to be served...

One thing we do well out here in flyover country is serving others. A family member passes away, people show up with casseroles, paper goods and hugs. Someone unexpectedly has a crisis and requests prayers, the local church activates the prayer chain and telephones light up in perfect sequence. A family is having a rough day, friends offer to babysit kids and substitute in the school pick-up line. Natural disaster strikes, and hoards of people, many strangers, show up to clean up and often offer their own tools or even clothes off their back. We are servers out here. It is what we do. It is the right thing to do and that urge to serve comes bubbling up from somewhere, not so deep, in our souls.

When an event, large or small, happens to you, is it easy to be served? It is not easy for me. I don’t think it is a pride thing, but merely that we are programmed to do the serving. However, it is crucial that we take on the other role at times and allow ourselves to be served. It is not only a blessing to us, but potentially to the one doing the serving.

A few mornings ago, I received an unexpected gift from someone who likely didn’t realize what she was walking into much less what her simple actions would mean. When a family from down the road wanted to play with my kids and rang our doorbell, we were in the middle of a crazy morning. Normally this would have been a non issue, but on this particular day I had a meeting in little over an hour, a babysitter was coming, my house was a wreck as I was unpacking from the harvest season, breakfast remained out, and we were all in various stages of dress or undress. I simply wasn’t able to visit outside on that morning due to the approaching meeting. Their mother insisted on hanging out with all the kids on my driveway and politely declined to see and visit in the cluster found inside. She asked that I get my work done. I protested but let it go. I allowed her to help me in that moment of overload. To be honest, I NEEDED help in that moment even if it was hard to admit I simply couldn’t do it all that morning.

When she learned of our schedule, she could have easily turned around, said they’d try another day and continued on their bike ride. I wouldn’t have thought a thing of it, and that would have been a normal response. Instead she went above and beyond what was even necessary to help another mom out. I got a few, much needed, moments of alone time to get a handle on the upcoming day (which rarely happens in harvest season). The unexpected gesture and gift of time made a huge difference.

Do you know anyone who could benefit from a simple gesture? Could you be the one to give it? Maybe you’re in need but are you willing to receive a hand up if the opportunity presents itself? Both sides are equally important and we will all find ourselves on either side of the spectrum many times in our lives. We need each other on this journey called life, and that is ok!

Chalk creations in the drive. The physical remains of a sweet gesture. Though rain may wash them away, the memory of kindness will live on.

Burlington, Colorado: Kit Carson County Carousel

Its hard to believe that we’re already at mid-July.  School is just around the corner for many families, so it’s the perfect time for a last-minute weekend getaway.  Many in this part of the world may be taking I-70 to the mountains.  That makes this the right time to talk about the little gem that is hiding on the north side of Burlington, Colorado!

The town, which sits beside I-70, is home to the Kit Carson County Carousel.  I’m ashamed to admit, I only discovered it a few years ago after traveling plenty of times west on I-70 (in my defense, usually the wrong time of day/year!).  The carousel sits on the north side of town, but it is worth the short drive to get out and stretch a little and see this beautiful piece of art. 

So what is so special about this carousel you might ask?  Well, according to the website, it dates back to 1905.  The horses are hand carved from wood, contain original paint, and there are only a few hand carved carousels left in operation!  There are other great facts, but I don’t want to spoil the fun! You can look them up here, or better yet, go see it for yourself!    

The experience is worth way more than the $0.25/ride and $1 admission to the museum, but I’m thankful it is so economical so my family can enjoy multiple rides and a trip to the museum per visit!  The museum is well done and informative but is short enough to return to one’s travels in a timely manner.  Make sure to call ahead or check the website for the carousel’s schedule so you can time your visit efficiently if you are on a tight schedule. 

Have you visited as well? Let me know which beautiful animal is your favorite in the comments section! 

(Under the Flyover Sky is not responsible for any aspect of your travels, but merely offers suggestions of things to do along the way.)

Blueberry Harvest

The roads of East Texas are beautiful this time of year!

We followed the twisty-turny, forested roads near Edom, Texas, to knock off one of our many summer bucket-list items. To make the most of our travels, we started brainstorming last winter and that’s when we discovered “Blueberry Hill Farms”, an “u-pick” farm. Since we’re on the road much of the growing season, its hard for us to maintain a garden at home, so “u-pick” gives us the best of both worlds making it one of our favorite summer activities.

When one arrives at a farm such as this, someone typically greats you, explains the process, and sends you on your way to pick until your heart is content. We arrived early to beat the heat and crowds which gave us a row to ourselves. The children had a great time filling their buckets with their carefully selected berries. I had even more fun watching them do it!

The farm also has an on site country store where they offer fresh baked goods, jams, honey, etc. I was able to try a sample of their famous “Blueberries and Cream” pie made from a top secret recipe. I normally find fruit deserts too rich for my liking, but this was amazing, and I would recommend trying a slice if you visit. Another highlight was the freshly made donuts (my favorite was the sugar coated) that have little bits of blueberry inside.

if fresh berries weren’t enough, temptations were waiting around every corner. Pies made from a secret recipe, fresh donuts, and other tasty products are found in the country store.

Besides having a fun, family outing, I had two additional motives to visiting Blueberry Hill Farms. The first was allowing my children the same experience I had when I was little. My dad used to work on a farm with a berry orchard and I have a faint memory of picking with my mother. The second reason was that It is important to me that our children know where their food comes from. It helps solidify that knowledge if they can be involved with hands on experiences, even if it is just the end result of harvest. Despite being in production agriculture, there’s always more to learn. Our segment is just a small percentage of what it takes to put food on the table. Farmers are very knowledgeable and passionate about raising a safe and healthy food supply. I highly encourage you to reach out directly to the source when you have questions. They are the true experts and owners, Chuck and Sherri, were gracious hosts and answered my questions about blueberry production. If you’re interested in learning more about the technical side, check out my post over at All Aboard Wheat Harvest. And if you’re ever in there area, stop by Blueberry Hill Farms, where the owners or their friendly staff will help you have a great experience!

The Gift of Time

Laying in my bed, all feels right with the world.

Truth be told, its not actually “my” bed, but the one I use when I visit my grandparents. The one that I have used almost every visit my entire life. The bed that is next to the one my brother slept in when we were kids but is now occupied by my two children. This is the house my father and his brothers grew up in. The only place I’ve known my grandparents to live. The house with the large yard with the tall trees, a novelty for a girl who spent all but her first four years of life on the prairie. The house with the hallway that ended with the linen and toy closet, that to my little kid self, felt at least 20 yards long. The house across the pond that must have a million frogs that sing you to sleep each night while the hum of the big trucks on the nearby highway add their own notes to the song. The house that has the sweet smell, like only a place does, that is in a humid environment. The house that is bursting with memories. This is what I have known, always known, a source of peace when my adult reality is a constant state of change.

While this house, this family, hasn’t been without its set of challenges, I’m thankful for the gift of time and the stability it has provided on this side of eternity. I know how fortunate we have been. Purely from a numbers game, time is no longer on our side. But was it ever? I’m no longer naive enough to think that the time clock runs out only for those advanced in their years. I know each moment we’re given can’t be taken for granted.

But for this moment, I push all that aside. I’ll savor the sound of my sweet babes as their breath falls heavy as they sleep. I’m thankful that they too can make memories in this house and experience the love of the people in it. I’ll soak up the scent of this room and store it away in my mind. And I’ll let frogs and trucks serenade me to sleep just like they have done for 30+ summers. I’ll drift off with thankfulness in my heart that once again, we were given the gift of time to bottle up another round of summer memories, in this house, with these people.

The peaceful sounds of night from the porch of my grandparent’s house.

A Clear Mind

I never grow tired of the views. There is so much beauty on the dirt road.

I’m not sure how it is possible, but Harvest 2019 is days away. It seems like only yesterday that I took this picture. I remember the June evening so well. Nothing extraordinary happened, so there's no reason why it should stick out. Maybe a person's senses are just heightened when out in the wide open and removed from the many distractions of modern life. Maybe that makes remembering easier and less of a blur. Even though it is hard, I need to remember this more often, to be intentional, to find the balance in each season. Life is meant to be lived.

Wheat harvest in western Kansas. Photography by Laura Haffner.

Intro: Under the Flyover Sky

It is ironic, that as I type this first post for “Under the Flyover Sky”, I’m leaving my beloved High Plains, the place this has inspired these musings.  I woke long before the sun to catch the first flight out a small regional airport in southwest Kansas.  Several contemporaries and I are heading to an agriculture conference in Milwaukee. It should be a great time of learning and fellowship but also of inspiration, to be reinvigorated to continue to serve the rural communities we dearly love. 

It was a peaceful 25 minute drive this morning on this 15th day of March.  The land is just starting to thaw from an exceptionally long winter and the smell of earth awaking was a welcome scent as I passed miles of twinkling lights on the prairie.  Those lights might not seem like much to someone from outside the area, but each of those lights represents a person, a family, who like me, choose to be rural.  The prairie people are a hardy bunch.  A culture who knows the value hard work, ingenuity, family, community, and faith.  We are not all the backward bunch that the media so often portrays, and our land of open spaces and sky is beautiful in its own right, also different from the stereotypes.  We have problems, no place is immune.  No place.  However, so much good happens out here in the middle if one just wants to see it.  I learned long ago in my travels that a person can find good and beauty anywhere, it is all about perspective. 

Except for four short years in the piney woods of the south, I have spent my entire life some place on the prairie.  I attempted to leave once after college, but the company I then worked for saw the value in placing me back with the grass and wind and I obliged.  With the exception of travel, a passion of mine, I have never permanently left again. Kansas continues to be my home. 

 The sunrise is beautiful this morning.  The deep orange gives way to yellow then deep blue sky as night tries to hang on just a little longer.  It is beautiful moments like this I write.  It is for the people that I write.  To share what so few get to see.  I have plans for this site, not unlike any eager, new blogger.  Some posts may be serious, others funny, informative, and everything in between.  I may hammer out back-to-back posts or time may pass between inspiration.  Thanks for following along. I know you will find something that resonates with you “Under the Flyover Sky.”

View pulling into the airport.

Flying out of regional airports are the best with their friendly service, short lines, and free parking!

The wind tetrahedron. Apparently they’re rare these days.

The view of flyover country. Simply beautiful.

Less the window crack, the view of the sunrise was fantastic!

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