Well, hello there!! It has been awhile, hasn't it? May was an incredibly busy month for us here at Leiker Farms; we had weddings every Saturday, that took us to Manhattan, Lamar, Kansas City, and LA. School wrapped up and finished and of my 12 students, I had 6 of 'em with D's or F's. Outstanding!!! My favorite quote of the semester, was from one precious soul who informed me that he has learned so much in the class and has actually enjoyed it, he just doesn't have the best grade to show it. So true, young academic. So true. I learned several new things I need to add to my regime next semester; for example, tardies. It never occurred to me to affect the students grade for them, because in college your professor doesn't keep track of who is tardy and who is there for the lecture. It's part of that responsibility bit. Little did I know, that I would need to have consequences for, say, 25 tardies in a semester. It's all fine, though, because this was a learning semester for me and my kids. Now, I know that fall semester should be tweaked a bit. For those of you keeping track, I'll be teaching College Sociology for fall 2012 at Holly High. Anyways, May was a busy little group of days for us, with traveling, packing, grading, reading, and cleaning. When one ride ends, the other begins.
We will start moving equipment this Friday (June 8) to commence that taxing 3-week period commonly refereed to as harvest. This will be the earliest Leiker Farms has ever started. Last year, June 18 was the earliest we had started and with the warmest March on record, June 8 will take the prize. That means, that this HV County Farmers Daughter has to start getting into harvest mode. What exactly is harvest mode, you may ask? Well, it's when you have to start preparing yourself for the possibility of having chaff and wheat and dust in every crevice of your body. Eye drops are a must. Chap stick cannot be missed. Lots of water, with ice, is desired, if you have to unfortunate experience of your air conditioning in your choice combine failing on you (which is horrid. If I happen to end up in hell, I think my punishment will be cutting endless fields with terraces with no air conditioner, blowing winds in every direction, open doors allowing said dust and chaff in and crappy radio). Stopping for a warm homemade lunch? Forget about it. We here at Leiker Farms will cut until the last ray of sunlight has fell from the sky. No stopping for lunch, so stock up on anything that doesn't require a microwave, stove, oven, or anything that would allude to modern conveniences . You may think this is a time where one loses weight, right? Hell no. We're sitting for 12+ hours a day, eating crap food. You think I have the energy to run 3-4 miles a night, after a full day of cutting? Hell no. You are exhausted. The only maintenance on my summer plan that happens, is that wonderful cut-off tan that will be golden brown, come July 4th. Cannot forget paper towels that can also sub as toilet paper. Actually, forget that "can sub", change to "will sub". Pop and squat for those natural desires.
My uniform for harvest consists of my hair in a bandanna, much like the 1940s housewives when they would be cleaning their homes. Old Navy boot cut jeans with Stetson boots and a cut off, that isnt' too cut off, because keep in mind that this is a family affair. I had thought about just wearing a bikini top, to help with those crusty tan lines. Oh, yeah, not happening with the father in law around. And then there's the chaff and dust. Ew. No make up and no foxy curls curling gel to help with frizz. With my smashing bandanna, there's no need to worry about frizz.
Oh, sigh. It truly is a romantic time of year. Harvest, that is. There are always those moments that tensions are so high and everyone is exhausted and tired of each other, that tempers snap. Big time. But, it's also such a proud moment for us farmers (and farmer wives). This is what we did, with the help of God. Total sense of ownership with what we're doing and do during the year. It's something that city slickers just do not quite get. Yeah, I am sure they think it's "hard work" and "hot". I doubt though they truly understand the process. Time stops for us during harvest. Totally. This (the land) is our job and we devote all our attention, time, energy, motivation, and love. Our houses are not cleaned. Our mail may get picked up. The bills had better be paid before we start, because our lives revolve around big green machines. I pray we do not have the massive amount of breakdowns, blown tires, thrown coolers in anger, and random electrical fires this year. However, if it does happen, we will get through it. Move on.
Because we are damn tough. Tough as the weathered skin on my Daddys hands and face. So, the next time you speed past a field with cutters or a farmer doing "something" in the field, you had best say a little prayer in thanksgiving. And when you're in such a hurry and that damned old farmer is going 20 mph in his big thing, keep calm. Because you have no idea what they're going through. We know that you're in a hurry and that we're slowing you down, but honestly: Chill Out.
Everyone has their vocation calling in life. The lucky ones get to keep playing with tractors and trucks, long after the sandbox days.
Again, though, this is all a HV County Farmers Daughters opinion. And I wear my bandanna with pride.
Monday, June 4, 2012
Saturday, April 21, 2012
"The month that gives me the most ups and downs..."
I'll admit it, April is probably the winner of my "The month that gives me the most ups and downs", if that were a legit contest. Spring, in general, is a time that is the epitomy of bittersweet for this HV County farmers daughter. Perhaps I should have a sign/trendy V-neck baseball tee that I wear everyday in April that forwarns of said emotional ups and downs. As I laid in bed last night, the one question I kept asking myself was "When will I not be affected by this damn month....", and I realized (as I usually do) that I'll never be "over it".
Because I am not suppose to ever just "get over it". It's all about coping skills and allowing the pain, exctiement, nerves, frustration to wash over me. Not let it consume me, though, in a pit of self pity and selflishness. I falter on that one, a lot. I would never take back that moment on April 29, 2009 when I gave birth to Colton. Never would I go back on my decision to choose adoption for Colton. Never. But that doesn't mean that my heart breaks over and over and over in April. I wonder when will the pain stop? When will I not want to close my eyes and let hot tears swell when I think back to that month, 3 years ago. I remember walking out of my office on April 27, 2009 and knowing that in less than 24 hours, I would start the final phase of the time that I had left with Colton. I was anxious, naturally seeing my that ankles were squish-squish-squish when I walked and my body was less "runner proof" and more "maternity full on". As I walking through Cardwell to my car, I saw a red cardinal.
Big whoop to the normal Kansanan (sadly, I have not seen ONE cardinal living out here). After my Grandma Bergkamps, perhaps the thriftiest of thrify Depression-era woman, passed away, I saw a cardinal outside my parents house. I made a prayer to Grandma that everytime I would see a cardinal, I would take that as her prescence to me. A gentle reminder that she's there and she's never leaving and to pick up strength from her prescence and carry on. To say that Celestine was a warrior, is an understatment. When ever you want to think of stauch stubborn German Catholic women, you can just think of Celestine. Seeing that cardinal that day, that anxious day, was such a relief to me. I knew that if Grandma were alive to ask her opinion on my decison, she would support it 110%, because the life that I was giving Colton would be so much more than I could have provided him, at that moment in my life. She would have reminded me to do what is best for that child, and ignore what you want for yourself.
No matter how heartbreaking and painful it was for me. And still is.
What's the point of this post? I'm still trying to figure that out; I think I just wanted to write about how each of us have those bitter months/days. It may be the anniversary of someones who was near to us passing from this earth. For me, it was the "handing of the torch", to Coltons parents that day in April. I had done the best that I could with him, in our 9 months together, and now it was his parents turn to take the reins. And I could not have handed the reins over to a better family.
So to those of you who have bitter months or days or weeks in your lives, I join you in our journey of wading through the emotions that tie us to those close to us, for however long you had them in your life. Whether it was 50 years, 12 years, or 9 months.
<------- My Reason
Because I am not suppose to ever just "get over it". It's all about coping skills and allowing the pain, exctiement, nerves, frustration to wash over me. Not let it consume me, though, in a pit of self pity and selflishness. I falter on that one, a lot. I would never take back that moment on April 29, 2009 when I gave birth to Colton. Never would I go back on my decision to choose adoption for Colton. Never. But that doesn't mean that my heart breaks over and over and over in April. I wonder when will the pain stop? When will I not want to close my eyes and let hot tears swell when I think back to that month, 3 years ago. I remember walking out of my office on April 27, 2009 and knowing that in less than 24 hours, I would start the final phase of the time that I had left with Colton. I was anxious, naturally seeing my that ankles were squish-squish-squish when I walked and my body was less "runner proof" and more "maternity full on". As I walking through Cardwell to my car, I saw a red cardinal.
Big whoop to the normal Kansanan (sadly, I have not seen ONE cardinal living out here). After my Grandma Bergkamps, perhaps the thriftiest of thrify Depression-era woman, passed away, I saw a cardinal outside my parents house. I made a prayer to Grandma that everytime I would see a cardinal, I would take that as her prescence to me. A gentle reminder that she's there and she's never leaving and to pick up strength from her prescence and carry on. To say that Celestine was a warrior, is an understatment. When ever you want to think of stauch stubborn German Catholic women, you can just think of Celestine. Seeing that cardinal that day, that anxious day, was such a relief to me. I knew that if Grandma were alive to ask her opinion on my decison, she would support it 110%, because the life that I was giving Colton would be so much more than I could have provided him, at that moment in my life. She would have reminded me to do what is best for that child, and ignore what you want for yourself.
No matter how heartbreaking and painful it was for me. And still is.
What's the point of this post? I'm still trying to figure that out; I think I just wanted to write about how each of us have those bitter months/days. It may be the anniversary of someones who was near to us passing from this earth. For me, it was the "handing of the torch", to Coltons parents that day in April. I had done the best that I could with him, in our 9 months together, and now it was his parents turn to take the reins. And I could not have handed the reins over to a better family.
<------- My Reason
Monday, February 13, 2012
peace...piece..... peace....
Peace. May God give you peace. May you have peace in your day. May peace be in your heart. So much peace, we talk about.
What is peace to you? For me, yesterday, peace was getting church in and my work out. Peace also included cleaning my bathroom counter, vacuuming the house, and scrubbing my blue jay egg blue bathroom toilet. A bonus was getting in a few episodes of LOST (finished Part II of III of 1st season). Aaron and I also contributed to our community by volunteering at the Holly Pride Theatre dinner. By the end of the evening, I remembered why I am so glad that I'm not catering with Bockers II Catering anymore. The smell on your hands and sweat on your brow. Luckily for me and the brood of junior high/high school volunteer servers, we avoided cranky drunk mother of the brides and wasted handsy groomsmen (ahem, weddings in Manhattan). The evening went smooth and the sold out crowd will surely make for a good head start to our $80, 000 goal. But yeah, surely do not miss those long nights at the Alumni Center, clearing plates and refilling drinks, and hiding under tables in hallways. Oh, the good ole days of working during college trying to get peace of mind in the bank account.
It is curious to me, how each of us have different versions of what peace, in our personal lives, consists of. For my mother, when we were growing up, peace for her heart was just that "peace and quiet" in the house. For me, peace was feeling affiliated and having a group to belong with. For Daddy, peace was knowing that he covered all his bases in the field and was prepared for whatever "came down the pipes". Hence, where I earned the control aspect of my personality.
I feel that as my obstacles in life were presented and cleared, peace for me became more centered around what God has in his plan for me. I guess I should rephrase that, peace is my acceptance in what God has planned for me (and Aaron). It's a total surrender of self and will, to what God's will deems. It's a release of what I want or I feel I need, to what God wants or God needs from me. So simple in phrase, yet hard in practice, yes?
Right now, for Mel, peace would be getting that darn baby out of her, so her and Mason can start this new chapter in their lives, as a family of 3. Then, I am sure her peace will revolve around whatever Mom's peace was when we were growing up.
As for Aaron and I, we pray each night that "God gives us peace". I got that idea off another blogger on one of those TTC sites (and if you don't know what TTC means, then you probably don't know what BD is, either. Count yourself lucky). As we continue with our days and I continue teaching to my precious group of kids enrolled in College Psychology at Holly High and then running off to whatever sub call the district needs, we lose that sense of peace. But, given time to center ourselves as a couple following what God wants out of us, we find that peace. It's society that pulls us from that track, from that silent path from Him. And we feel that strain from the Outside World on our marriage and our restless anxious hearts. The trick is to breathe deep and remind ourselves that that anxiety and worry has already been felt before by someone. Someone who truly knows what is best for us and our marriage and this power also knows when the time will truly be right for his blessings. Does knowing this make toughing out hard times automatically easier? Ah, hell no. It does, however, give peace and hope. And that's what having faith is all about; believing in that which you cannot see.
What is peace to you today?
What is peace to you? For me, yesterday, peace was getting church in and my work out. Peace also included cleaning my bathroom counter, vacuuming the house, and scrubbing my blue jay egg blue bathroom toilet. A bonus was getting in a few episodes of LOST (finished Part II of III of 1st season). Aaron and I also contributed to our community by volunteering at the Holly Pride Theatre dinner. By the end of the evening, I remembered why I am so glad that I'm not catering with Bockers II Catering anymore. The smell on your hands and sweat on your brow. Luckily for me and the brood of junior high/high school volunteer servers, we avoided cranky drunk mother of the brides and wasted handsy groomsmen (ahem, weddings in Manhattan). The evening went smooth and the sold out crowd will surely make for a good head start to our $80, 000 goal. But yeah, surely do not miss those long nights at the Alumni Center, clearing plates and refilling drinks, and hiding under tables in hallways. Oh, the good ole days of working during college trying to get peace of mind in the bank account.
It is curious to me, how each of us have different versions of what peace, in our personal lives, consists of. For my mother, when we were growing up, peace for her heart was just that "peace and quiet" in the house. For me, peace was feeling affiliated and having a group to belong with. For Daddy, peace was knowing that he covered all his bases in the field and was prepared for whatever "came down the pipes". Hence, where I earned the control aspect of my personality.
I feel that as my obstacles in life were presented and cleared, peace for me became more centered around what God has in his plan for me. I guess I should rephrase that, peace is my acceptance in what God has planned for me (and Aaron). It's a total surrender of self and will, to what God's will deems. It's a release of what I want or I feel I need, to what God wants or God needs from me. So simple in phrase, yet hard in practice, yes?
Right now, for Mel, peace would be getting that darn baby out of her, so her and Mason can start this new chapter in their lives, as a family of 3. Then, I am sure her peace will revolve around whatever Mom's peace was when we were growing up.
As for Aaron and I, we pray each night that "God gives us peace". I got that idea off another blogger on one of those TTC sites (and if you don't know what TTC means, then you probably don't know what BD is, either. Count yourself lucky). As we continue with our days and I continue teaching to my precious group of kids enrolled in College Psychology at Holly High and then running off to whatever sub call the district needs, we lose that sense of peace. But, given time to center ourselves as a couple following what God wants out of us, we find that peace. It's society that pulls us from that track, from that silent path from Him. And we feel that strain from the Outside World on our marriage and our restless anxious hearts. The trick is to breathe deep and remind ourselves that that anxiety and worry has already been felt before by someone. Someone who truly knows what is best for us and our marriage and this power also knows when the time will truly be right for his blessings. Does knowing this make toughing out hard times automatically easier? Ah, hell no. It does, however, give peace and hope. And that's what having faith is all about; believing in that which you cannot see.
What is peace to you today?
Saturday, February 4, 2012
learn to use the phone.....
Well, oh well. No, I did not lose my sanity out here in southeast Colorado and run screaming into the Buffalo Creek Canal. My life has been busy, because of the new teaching gig I took on at the high school, with their dual-credit College Psychology class. Now, in the evenings instead of reading and losing myself in a book (Oh, Belle of Beauty and the Beast.....), I spend my nights as if I was in graduate school again, reading psychology textbooks. Alas, let me be honest: I never read THIS much in graduate school; I relied on the always-over-achieving-non-traditional-student to do the readings and lead class discussions.
I have really enjoyed this stint, even though I am not rolling in the dough. I still sub, nearly everyday, so the "hats" that I wear on any given day changes. I start out being "teacher" hat, then to elementary pe, making sure kids don't punch each others lights out, while trying to juggle. You think I'm joking, oh but I am serious. And random, in pe, I never remember learning skills. Usually we'd resort to scooters (which I HATED, because I was the chubby kid and trying to find your center of gravity at 10 years old, is hard enough. Thank you very much) or parachutes. Yeah, so no skills really were learned. Kids nowadays, at least here at Holly, are learning "stuff" during pe. And yes, the pe teacher is a close friend of mine, so naturally I'd see things her way. However, the point still stands: she makes them accountable. Where was I going with this?? Oh, yeah. That my days language changes 180 degrees, all the time, and that I've been busy.
I truly enjoy my all-be-it small "career" here in Holly. There really is minimal stress, minus my brief 911 call last week. At my previous place of fabulous employment, you would dial 9-1, then your number. So, naturally, I assume that all life is like Manhattan, duh. Nope. Here at Holly, when you dial 9-1-, then your 1877 number, you reach 911 dispatch. Marvelous. I had meant to call Viarro customer service (because I avoid the office nearest to us, like the black plague), and instead of Viarro, I got "911. What's your emergency?" "Uh, yeah. So, um, my phone won't go to my home screen. And, like, I really need my phone to check my LadyTimer application. So, can you, like, help me with this?" No. I did not bring mortal shame to my family and tell the lovely dispatcher that. I simply hung up, but not before saying that I was trying to reach Viarro Customer Service and I hope that he has a good day. Click.
Yeah, then dispatch called the school and was sending a patrol car out. This was read over the scanner and, yeah, you can guess what happens next in a small town. Needless to say, I was asked next time to stay on the line. And not freak out, like a 5 year caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
So, I reckon the moral of this story, boys and girls, is to be sure to inquire how to use the phones at your new job, if you want to save yourself the embarrassment of having the police almost show up at your job. I feel so safe.
I have really enjoyed this stint, even though I am not rolling in the dough. I still sub, nearly everyday, so the "hats" that I wear on any given day changes. I start out being "teacher" hat, then to elementary pe, making sure kids don't punch each others lights out, while trying to juggle. You think I'm joking, oh but I am serious. And random, in pe, I never remember learning skills. Usually we'd resort to scooters (which I HATED, because I was the chubby kid and trying to find your center of gravity at 10 years old, is hard enough. Thank you very much) or parachutes. Yeah, so no skills really were learned. Kids nowadays, at least here at Holly, are learning "stuff" during pe. And yes, the pe teacher is a close friend of mine, so naturally I'd see things her way. However, the point still stands: she makes them accountable. Where was I going with this?? Oh, yeah. That my days language changes 180 degrees, all the time, and that I've been busy.
I truly enjoy my all-be-it small "career" here in Holly. There really is minimal stress, minus my brief 911 call last week. At my previous place of fabulous employment, you would dial 9-1, then your number. So, naturally, I assume that all life is like Manhattan, duh. Nope. Here at Holly, when you dial 9-1-, then your 1877 number, you reach 911 dispatch. Marvelous. I had meant to call Viarro customer service (because I avoid the office nearest to us, like the black plague), and instead of Viarro, I got "911. What's your emergency?" "Uh, yeah. So, um, my phone won't go to my home screen. And, like, I really need my phone to check my LadyTimer application. So, can you, like, help me with this?" No. I did not bring mortal shame to my family and tell the lovely dispatcher that. I simply hung up, but not before saying that I was trying to reach Viarro Customer Service and I hope that he has a good day. Click.
Yeah, then dispatch called the school and was sending a patrol car out. This was read over the scanner and, yeah, you can guess what happens next in a small town. Needless to say, I was asked next time to stay on the line. And not freak out, like a 5 year caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
So, I reckon the moral of this story, boys and girls, is to be sure to inquire how to use the phones at your new job, if you want to save yourself the embarrassment of having the police almost show up at your job. I feel so safe.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Free will and the struggle
Oh, rules. Rules and regulations and protocol. Each organization, club, community, family, church, school, etc have them. Some of them make sense and are designed to protect and better serve those who rely on them for direction. Some seem pointless and seem to better serve the pocketbook of someone, who is never you. A lesson I learned a long time growing up from my Daddy was that you may not see the lesson in the rule, but that's not the point. You still are going to have to follow, like it or not. And keep your whining to yourself, unless you wanted to endure a harsher punishment.
No matter the age, we still have someone elses' rules to follow and abide by. A particular organization that has rules that I'm struggling to smile through is my beloved Catholic Church. I am sure there is someone somewhere who will read this and instantly connect to the phrase "rules of the Catholic Church" with disgust. We're kind of known for our rules and regulations and protocol. Being Catholic is not a religion, but a lifestyle. And a lot of people find struggle in following our Church, because they don't' like "that rule" or "that teaching". They feel their freedom is being strangled by being told to not eat meat on Fridays during Lent. That's cool for them, however again, I learned that there will never be something that has rules that I'll always 110% agree with.
My marriage to Aaron is my second. My previous marriage was in the Catholic Church and we both were not the best spouses to each other. We both made our mistakes and believed that divorce was the best route for each of us to find true happiness. And I sure as hell found my happiness and can only hope that he found that as well. One little glitch in my dreams of becoming Mrs. Leiker.
In the eyes of the Catholic Church, I was still married. Marriage is a sacrament for those of the Catholic faith (an outward sign, instituted by Christ to give grace, if you're a memorizing kind of person) and it's not as easy as signing a piece of paper in a court room to erase that off your soul. Enter the annulment process and I made the decision to start this long tedious chapter in my life in May 2010. Endless pages of writing testimony and answering personal questions followed by myself listing several witnesses, who were also contacted for their long endless testimony in regards to me and him. The small speed bump of the refusal by him, his family, and his friends to participate only lengthened the process, because apparently by applying for the annulment meant that I was needing to "get over it" and he didn't want to have anything to do with it. Ahem, yes. That was WHY I had started the process, thank you very much. However, that was his freewill (thank you God for that blessed gift way back when....) to participate and he chose not to.
It is now 2012 and we have yet to have the official word from the Salina Diocese. It's been a long roller coaster of emotions, frustrations, bafflement, and anger. Aaron and I did not want to wait to get married, because we could not be given an exact guarantee that the annulment would be through by a certain time. And thank God we didn't wait to become married, or we'd still be waiting. We made the decision to become married by a judge last July and that decision had a stingy ripple effect through the waves of my extended family. Many members refused to celebrate our marriage, because it was not in the Catholic Church. Oh well, that was one less Thank You Aaron had to sign and I had to write. And don't forget the 44 cents we saved. Aaron and I have not participated in Holy Communion since the Sunday prior to our wedding, because "we are living in sin" since we live together and are not married through the sacrament of marriage. I teach catechism for junior high and explained to my kids why I don't receive Communion and only cross my chest for a blessing. And I am honest and blunt when asked. I have a mortal sin on my soul and that is no environment for the Body of Christ. It burns when I hear people testify that they do not attend the Catholic Church, because they just don't agree with "all those rules". Those rules probably did not personally affect them as they have me. They just hate to be told what to do and they think the Church is outdated and old fashioned and the Church needs to "catch up" with the times. Why should a Church have to mold itself to society?! Irony.
I am proud to be a practicing Catholic. No, I do not agree with the annulment process and the cost that I will be graciously levied to pay when the annulment verdict is delivered. No, I did not enjoy the hurt that I felt when my family chose to avoid my wedding, because they did not agree with the location. No, I do not enjoy not being able to fully participate in Mass on Sunday. However, it was my free will to get married outside the Church. Just as it is the free will of fallen away Catholics to choose not to follow the Church. And some of those fallen away Catholics are close friends and family to me and some of my friends are not (gasp) Catholic. Oh my word, how do I function?!
Rules. You will fail to avoid them. And all the hot air you blow venting and steaming and fuming over having to follow them is wasted. But one thing you have to decide everyday when you wake up, is what your priorities are and if you'll follow through with those today.
You have the free will. Use it. Just make sure what you do follows those priorities you agree to in the morning.
And you can bet your lucky 2011 penny that the moment (or the next Saturday) we have the annulment granted, Aaron and I will have our marrige blessed at our church in Holly with our close family present. And we'll be able to enjoy deeper the celebration of Mass on Sundays and will have a greater gratitude for the Church and the sacrament of marriage.
No matter the age, we still have someone elses' rules to follow and abide by. A particular organization that has rules that I'm struggling to smile through is my beloved Catholic Church. I am sure there is someone somewhere who will read this and instantly connect to the phrase "rules of the Catholic Church" with disgust. We're kind of known for our rules and regulations and protocol. Being Catholic is not a religion, but a lifestyle. And a lot of people find struggle in following our Church, because they don't' like "that rule" or "that teaching". They feel their freedom is being strangled by being told to not eat meat on Fridays during Lent. That's cool for them, however again, I learned that there will never be something that has rules that I'll always 110% agree with.
My marriage to Aaron is my second. My previous marriage was in the Catholic Church and we both were not the best spouses to each other. We both made our mistakes and believed that divorce was the best route for each of us to find true happiness. And I sure as hell found my happiness and can only hope that he found that as well. One little glitch in my dreams of becoming Mrs. Leiker.
In the eyes of the Catholic Church, I was still married. Marriage is a sacrament for those of the Catholic faith (an outward sign, instituted by Christ to give grace, if you're a memorizing kind of person) and it's not as easy as signing a piece of paper in a court room to erase that off your soul. Enter the annulment process and I made the decision to start this long tedious chapter in my life in May 2010. Endless pages of writing testimony and answering personal questions followed by myself listing several witnesses, who were also contacted for their long endless testimony in regards to me and him. The small speed bump of the refusal by him, his family, and his friends to participate only lengthened the process, because apparently by applying for the annulment meant that I was needing to "get over it" and he didn't want to have anything to do with it. Ahem, yes. That was WHY I had started the process, thank you very much. However, that was his freewill (thank you God for that blessed gift way back when....) to participate and he chose not to.
It is now 2012 and we have yet to have the official word from the Salina Diocese. It's been a long roller coaster of emotions, frustrations, bafflement, and anger. Aaron and I did not want to wait to get married, because we could not be given an exact guarantee that the annulment would be through by a certain time. And thank God we didn't wait to become married, or we'd still be waiting. We made the decision to become married by a judge last July and that decision had a stingy ripple effect through the waves of my extended family. Many members refused to celebrate our marriage, because it was not in the Catholic Church. Oh well, that was one less Thank You Aaron had to sign and I had to write. And don't forget the 44 cents we saved. Aaron and I have not participated in Holy Communion since the Sunday prior to our wedding, because "we are living in sin" since we live together and are not married through the sacrament of marriage. I teach catechism for junior high and explained to my kids why I don't receive Communion and only cross my chest for a blessing. And I am honest and blunt when asked. I have a mortal sin on my soul and that is no environment for the Body of Christ. It burns when I hear people testify that they do not attend the Catholic Church, because they just don't agree with "all those rules". Those rules probably did not personally affect them as they have me. They just hate to be told what to do and they think the Church is outdated and old fashioned and the Church needs to "catch up" with the times. Why should a Church have to mold itself to society?! Irony.
I am proud to be a practicing Catholic. No, I do not agree with the annulment process and the cost that I will be graciously levied to pay when the annulment verdict is delivered. No, I did not enjoy the hurt that I felt when my family chose to avoid my wedding, because they did not agree with the location. No, I do not enjoy not being able to fully participate in Mass on Sunday. However, it was my free will to get married outside the Church. Just as it is the free will of fallen away Catholics to choose not to follow the Church. And some of those fallen away Catholics are close friends and family to me and some of my friends are not (gasp) Catholic. Oh my word, how do I function?!
Rules. You will fail to avoid them. And all the hot air you blow venting and steaming and fuming over having to follow them is wasted. But one thing you have to decide everyday when you wake up, is what your priorities are and if you'll follow through with those today.
You have the free will. Use it. Just make sure what you do follows those priorities you agree to in the morning.
And you can bet your lucky 2011 penny that the moment (or the next Saturday) we have the annulment granted, Aaron and I will have our marrige blessed at our church in Holly with our close family present. And we'll be able to enjoy deeper the celebration of Mass on Sundays and will have a greater gratitude for the Church and the sacrament of marriage.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
butterscotch schnapps
The past few nights, the Leiker family household has been enjoying classic black and white holiday movies: Holiday Inn and It's a Wonderful Life. This added to the "By Kansas standards Blizzard, by Colorado standards A lot of Snow" conditions outside, it definitely has helped the Christmas warm and fuzzy feelings. We woke up this morning to major drifts outside, as in no-way-are-we-getting-out-of-our-driveway-for-the-next-few-days. I remember growing up and when we did have "major" snow storms, Mom would dress us up in our rag-tag of snow ski pants (hand me downs or Goodwill discoveries) and gleefully send us outside with strict instructions to find all the drifts (ie: I did not plan for this snow day and you girls being inside this house yelling and tearing at each other, is killing me. So, how about you try killing yourselves outside and give your mother some peace. OK? Great. Fabulous. GO!). The sad thing is, after 20 minutes of being outside, I was "over it" and the snow wasn't that cool. Besides, these were the few days that Mom would allow us to have hot chocolate (with Always Save MARSHMALLOWS) and I wanted my watered-down hot chocolate, darn it. Even if there was two inches of snow, she probably did still send us out. I can't communicate how much my sisters (specifically Mel and I) pushed each others buttons. My strong, strong mother. And to think, the girl doesn't drink or swear.
While I am positive there are mothers in Southeast Colorado who are lively cursing the snow and looking for their bottles of Merlot wine, because their kids are at each others throats, I am enjoying the peace and quiet of the slow drips of water melting off our roof. The twinkle of the Christmas lights (and actively dreading the electric bill for this month, since my husband believes that Christmas without lights on the inside and outside is sacrilegious) and the efforts of our neighbor and his 4960 to move the snow from County Road JJ are the only things going on in our lives today. We'll probably venture outside and try to sled with our laundry baskets, but since I don't have my rag-tag ski pants and gloves, my clothes will get drenched and I'll be "over it" in 20 minutes. I could wrap my remaining Christmas gifts (for my nephew and Aaron) or repaint my nails. But before that, I need to make sure I have enough scotch tape, since my form of wrapping is 90% scotch tape and 10% misjudging the wrapping paper scissor lines. Which is why I am ecstatic that my husband loves wrapping, as in he wishes I'd let him blow our budget on bows and ribbons.
So on this day of avoiding cabin fever, I am hoping that our car is able to maneuver a way out before Christmas in Kansas and that we do not run out of butterscotch schnapps. Hmmm, maybe THAT was why Mom wanted us out of the house on snow days: butterscotch schnapps. Smart woman.
While I am positive there are mothers in Southeast Colorado who are lively cursing the snow and looking for their bottles of Merlot wine, because their kids are at each others throats, I am enjoying the peace and quiet of the slow drips of water melting off our roof. The twinkle of the Christmas lights (and actively dreading the electric bill for this month, since my husband believes that Christmas without lights on the inside and outside is sacrilegious) and the efforts of our neighbor and his 4960 to move the snow from County Road JJ are the only things going on in our lives today. We'll probably venture outside and try to sled with our laundry baskets, but since I don't have my rag-tag ski pants and gloves, my clothes will get drenched and I'll be "over it" in 20 minutes. I could wrap my remaining Christmas gifts (for my nephew and Aaron) or repaint my nails. But before that, I need to make sure I have enough scotch tape, since my form of wrapping is 90% scotch tape and 10% misjudging the wrapping paper scissor lines. Which is why I am ecstatic that my husband loves wrapping, as in he wishes I'd let him blow our budget on bows and ribbons.
So on this day of avoiding cabin fever, I am hoping that our car is able to maneuver a way out before Christmas in Kansas and that we do not run out of butterscotch schnapps. Hmmm, maybe THAT was why Mom wanted us out of the house on snow days: butterscotch schnapps. Smart woman.
Friday, December 16, 2011
is it all about the benjamins, baby?
I love to read and always have. Growing up, it was the Baby Sitters Club, Sweet Valley High, Boxcar Children (I never did quite grasp that possibility that these kids were homeless in a boxcar and didn't turn out in juvenile lock up), Mary Higgins Clark, Nancy Drew, and various other authors. If you ask me today "What sort of books do you ready?" I'd answer historical fiction. I do not like "fluff" books, anymore (Sorry twins Elizabeth and Jessica ie: Sweet Valley High) and will never ever read Twilight or Harry Potter. And absolutely "No" to anything science fiction or books whose plots are no way believable. I feel that reading is a past time that todays generation is missing out on, sorely. Reading improves comprehension and your general knowledge of words that are not common. You'd be amazed at how horrible reading comprehension is with todays kids. When I am reading a book, I get to leave small town America and am transferred to a different time and place. It's a whole new world (ignore the urge to start singing Disney show tunes).
The book I am reading now is by Tom Brokaw "The Greatest Generation" and it's a.ma.zing. Not only when you're reading it do you feel that you can hear his voice (again, a.ma.zing voice) reading to you, but the content is easy to follow. Brokaw sat down and had conversations with those young men and women who lived through WWII. These contributors had various backgrounds and callings during the War. Some were on the home front, while others were in the heat of battle. If you want a strong smack in the face as to what reality was for our grandparents, read this book. You want to feel like a schmuck for getting upset when your credit cards are taken away (thank you Daddy, 5 years ago) or anytime that you whined about a little w o r k, enjoy this book. A common theme found in a lot of the conversations with this men and women is a hesitation in the future of our country. I would argue that they were the greatest generation, hands down. However, when it comes to my generation and the one following, I share their hesitation. 110% The bond of values and honesty have taken a back seat to loss of morals and lying to get by. "How will I benefit from this? How much money can I make? What is the bare minimum that I can do to get by?" Disgusting. Embarrassing. And sadly, becoming the norm.
The point of this post is not to bash and insult my generation and the following one. I know there are issues with the kids now and perhaps we're all to blame for this lax sense of responsibility that we are letting them benefit from. When I was at K-State, I tried to install some sort of accountability with my students and many times, that "meanness" was met with dismay from the Deans Office, as all it took was a kids parent to call and complain and the situation, even when the blame was the precious childs, was absolved. The second, the very moment, we allow money to dictate our ethics and morals, we have already lost in the race.
I was facing a debate between money and happiness these past few weeks. I could take option A and have a steady income flowing in for Aaron and I; what was left from our debts would be dealt with before harvest. However, option A would take me from the schools here, which has been a strong source of happiness for me since moving. I adore these kids. I see the unbelievable potential they house in their futures and how it just takes a little care and commitment for it to shine. Option B would keep me with the students and Holly, but not making as much money. However, I'd be closer to home and my community. My community. The community that I am invested in.
No, we're not the greatest generation. And God forbid we are attacked the way the Japanese attacked that day in December. However, if we all took the time to give back to our communities and not worry about the bottom line in our checkbooks, could we have this next generation be a great generation? Put your money where your mouth is.
I chose Option B. It's my way of giving back to a community that will give me and my family a solid foundation. And I can teach College Psychology to a great group of kids that have no idea what they're in for. And to be honest, neither do I.
God bless America. Let's earn it.
The book I am reading now is by Tom Brokaw "The Greatest Generation" and it's a.ma.zing. Not only when you're reading it do you feel that you can hear his voice (again, a.ma.zing voice) reading to you, but the content is easy to follow. Brokaw sat down and had conversations with those young men and women who lived through WWII. These contributors had various backgrounds and callings during the War. Some were on the home front, while others were in the heat of battle. If you want a strong smack in the face as to what reality was for our grandparents, read this book. You want to feel like a schmuck for getting upset when your credit cards are taken away (thank you Daddy, 5 years ago) or anytime that you whined about a little w o r k, enjoy this book. A common theme found in a lot of the conversations with this men and women is a hesitation in the future of our country. I would argue that they were the greatest generation, hands down. However, when it comes to my generation and the one following, I share their hesitation. 110% The bond of values and honesty have taken a back seat to loss of morals and lying to get by. "How will I benefit from this? How much money can I make? What is the bare minimum that I can do to get by?" Disgusting. Embarrassing. And sadly, becoming the norm.
The point of this post is not to bash and insult my generation and the following one. I know there are issues with the kids now and perhaps we're all to blame for this lax sense of responsibility that we are letting them benefit from. When I was at K-State, I tried to install some sort of accountability with my students and many times, that "meanness" was met with dismay from the Deans Office, as all it took was a kids parent to call and complain and the situation, even when the blame was the precious childs, was absolved. The second, the very moment, we allow money to dictate our ethics and morals, we have already lost in the race.
I was facing a debate between money and happiness these past few weeks. I could take option A and have a steady income flowing in for Aaron and I; what was left from our debts would be dealt with before harvest. However, option A would take me from the schools here, which has been a strong source of happiness for me since moving. I adore these kids. I see the unbelievable potential they house in their futures and how it just takes a little care and commitment for it to shine. Option B would keep me with the students and Holly, but not making as much money. However, I'd be closer to home and my community. My community. The community that I am invested in.
No, we're not the greatest generation. And God forbid we are attacked the way the Japanese attacked that day in December. However, if we all took the time to give back to our communities and not worry about the bottom line in our checkbooks, could we have this next generation be a great generation? Put your money where your mouth is.
I chose Option B. It's my way of giving back to a community that will give me and my family a solid foundation. And I can teach College Psychology to a great group of kids that have no idea what they're in for. And to be honest, neither do I.
God bless America. Let's earn it.
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