I love 4-H kids. After judging at the Stark County Fair it’s nice to have affirmation there are many wonderful, productive and good kids in this USA. (Besides our grandchildren.)
I love wrens. They sing an intricate beautiful song all day long and allow human’s to listen.
I love old barns. No other structures show their history, our work ethic and roots better.
I love flowers that self seed in places no sane gardener would attempt to plant.
I love clouds. Fluffy to frightening, I reach for my camera and at least once shout: “LOOK – that one looks like a dog or duck or sea of lava.”
I love the changing seasons. I surmise every person living in a four-season area must be a little ADA.
I love the smell of soil. A wet handful of good Midwest soil has it’s own lovely fragrance.
I love farm crops. Nothing beats the neat rows of ever changing beauty for stunning.
I love bees. They are so focused on their duties and go about them with some wonderful innate driving force we humans can only envy.
I love dogs on a summer day. They can nap throughout the hottest day conserving energy to save their owners from terrible invaders most of the night.
I love cats in the summer. They can out-nap any animal all day only to wake to assist the dog at night. Rewarding their owners with pieces of dead “things” and expecting praise.
I love cows. Admittedly they are of the more unintelligent of breeds but their soft eyes, gentle moos and sweet calves just make me feel content.
I love small towns. If you’ve never driven through Ulah and thought “what on earth started this town and what is a “Ulah”, then you’ve not become really rural.
I love directions based on landmarks no longer standing. “You turn at the old Anderson place and drive three miles South to where the old Nickel Plate railroad spur went into the Peterson’s elevator and down about three roads to the old Olsen rental.”
I love dinner on the grounds. Church ladies competing for the best dish of the day suits me fine.
I love kids on bicycles. Kids laughing and crazy with no thoughts of responsibility, terrors or skinned knees.
I love a pick-up game of basketball. Be it on a driveway, park, school lot or street, its kids competing for fun.
I love a charity fundraiser. Admittedly, many are for reasons I don’t love, but the charity of rural American is outstanding – sometimes more.
I love potlucks and wiener roasts with friends and their families. At each age, we have our predetermined function: Running like banshees, doing the actual work, or sitting back and being wise.
I love kids playing “make believe”. Imagination is a beautiful thing; often filled with more wisdom than they’re credited.
I love wildflowers on the roadsides. This is the perfect time of the year to see yellow coneflowers, bee balm, and other beautiful sites. See the next “love”.
I love Sunday drives. A drive to nowhere is no pressure, full of surprises, and re energizes the soul.
I love fresh ripe tomatoes from the garden; still warm and fragrant.
I love sunrise, sunset and the stars in the sky. When we get too big for our britches, a little time contemplating the beauty of these can bring you back to your senses.
I love a full moon. I know it’s suspected to bring out the worst in people but I love being able to see everything outside even thought it must be midnight.
I love the sound of happy toads and frogs. OK, I’m “assuming” they’re happy because they’re singing.
I love spell check. Well, mostly except when it makes words I would never use. I was taught in the years where they started phonics, stopped phonics and then resumed, I am spelling “challenged”.
I love a note from someone just to say “Hi”.
And to keep this a little bit gardening: I love daylilies. Playing it perfect for a day and then relinquishing it to the next bud.
Thanks for listening.