On Christmas night, my little brother, Tucker Hoss, attempted to end his life. We were having a Christmas party at Savannah's house, and he went home without much notice, which isn't unusual for Tucker. He was found on the floor with a bullet wound and a gun lying beside him. He was still alert but in pain. 911 was called and he was brought to Goodland. There he was intubated and sedated so he would be calm, and relieved from his pain. After a few hours of waiting, Tucker was flown to Denver where he is currently receiving treatment. He seems to be stable, and the bulk of his treatment is pain management and infection prevention. Mentally, Tucker seems fine. He's been cracking jokes, flirting with his nurses, and talking with his family members. Tucker's biggest challenges now are some bleeding in the brain, heavy swelling of his eyes and face, the possibility of permanent blindness, and anxiety relating to not being able to see where he is.
When Tucker was alert enough to talk, Mom and Dad told him about why he's in the hospital--by the suggestion of his psychiatrist--Tucker told them that he had been thinking of suicide but didn't think he would go through with it. No one noticed any warning signs, or anything strange.
It's hard to see him in so much phsyical pain. It's unbearable to know that prior to the incident that he was in so much mental pain he felt suicide was the only way to make it stop... and so sad that he didn't talk to us so we could let him know how much we love him or so we could get him help.
Even though Tucker has a long way to recovery, we're so glad that he's still with us, so that now we can tell him how much we love him. God worked a miracle by keeping him with us this long, and I can't thank God enough for that miracle.
Please, take the time to pray for him. Pray for his recovery--mentally and physically, pray that he can feel God's overwhelming, restorative love, that he will know how many people care for him, that some of his sight will return, and that he will keep progressing towards living a full, long, healthy life.
Wednesday, December 30, 2015
Redefining Failure-Suicide Attempts
Suicide attempts.
Success.
Failure.
Over the last few days, all I've been able to think about is my baby brother, life, death, God, heaven, hell, and suicide.
It's strange to me that when someone survives a suicide attempt, it's referred to as a failed attempt.
Failed.
As if the intentions of someone so ill that death seemed the only cure could determine the description of the act.
Because "failure" the greatest success that could possibly follow a suicide attempt.
"Failure" is another chance at life.
"Failure" is a chance at treatment.
"Failure" is the beginning of a new life.
"Failure" is life-changing.
"Failure" let's us tell him how much we love him.
We prayed for "failure."
We begged God that he would "fail."
We consider "failure" a miracle.
I thank God every second for "failure."
For anyone to ever refer to a suicide attempt as a failed attempt is the height of ignorance. No success comes from a person falling to suicide, and no failure comes from surviving illness.
Suicide is a symptom of a disease. A person must have suffered so much at the hands of mental illness to consider death a cure to life.
Society fails us when suicide is attached to the person and not to the disease. How ridiculous would it be for someone to say there was a failed attempt at cancer? No one would ever say there was a failed bacterial infection, or a failed pneumonia, or an attempted death of natural causes.
We live inside our minds.
We need to create a culture where mental health isn't stigmatized. I want to live in a world where a coworker or classmate would be just as comfortable telling me about seeing a therapist for depression as telling me about seeing a doctor for a flu.
But, for now, it's not. So here I am, thanking God for "failure."
Success.
Failure.
Over the last few days, all I've been able to think about is my baby brother, life, death, God, heaven, hell, and suicide.
It's strange to me that when someone survives a suicide attempt, it's referred to as a failed attempt.
Failed.
As if the intentions of someone so ill that death seemed the only cure could determine the description of the act.
Because "failure" the greatest success that could possibly follow a suicide attempt.
"Failure" is another chance at life.
"Failure" is a chance at treatment.
"Failure" is the beginning of a new life.
"Failure" is life-changing.
"Failure" let's us tell him how much we love him.
We prayed for "failure."
We begged God that he would "fail."
We consider "failure" a miracle.
I thank God every second for "failure."
For anyone to ever refer to a suicide attempt as a failed attempt is the height of ignorance. No success comes from a person falling to suicide, and no failure comes from surviving illness.
Suicide is a symptom of a disease. A person must have suffered so much at the hands of mental illness to consider death a cure to life.
Society fails us when suicide is attached to the person and not to the disease. How ridiculous would it be for someone to say there was a failed attempt at cancer? No one would ever say there was a failed bacterial infection, or a failed pneumonia, or an attempted death of natural causes.
We live inside our minds.
We need to create a culture where mental health isn't stigmatized. I want to live in a world where a coworker or classmate would be just as comfortable telling me about seeing a therapist for depression as telling me about seeing a doctor for a flu.
But, for now, it's not. So here I am, thanking God for "failure."
Tuesday, December 22, 2015
How to kill, butcher, and process a deer: a short (18 step) guide
- Buy or apply for a tag. I bought a hunt your own land tag, which meant I could get either a buck or doe whitetail or mule deer. (Make sure to bring a zip tie or some twine… that will come in handy later!)
- Get your guns!... and your ammo! Make sure to get a caliber large enough to kill the animal. My gun of choice is a 2-70, but that’s not what I used this year.
- Dress in orange for safety. There are so many hunting accidents that would be avoidable if people took the appropriate safety measures. My brother, Dakota, explained why wearing orange won't hurt your stealthiness: apparently deer don’t see orange very well, so you still can blend in to the background.
- Fill up the tank with gas. We drove all over our land looking for animals and it took about two tanks of gas before we finally found one.
- Go hunting. Drive around, walk around, crawl around, until you find a good one. Make sure it’s on land you can hunt (in my case, on my family’s land).
Talking to other hunters on the phone.
My "hunting dog."
6. Take aim. Put the cross hairs over
a kill spot; right above the shoulder if the deer’s broadside, in the middle of
the white patch in the chest if the deer’s looking at you straight on (that’s
how I got mine), or in the deer’s forehead. The forehead shot’s good because it
doesn’t ruin any meat, but if you were planning on painting the skull or
something there will be a bullet hole there.
My deer from 2011.
7. “Breathe and squeeze” Once you
have your scope lined up, get the gun as steady as possible. Take a deep breath
and on the exhale, squeeze the trigger.
8. Check the results. If you got a
kill shot, you can approach it quickly, but if you just wounded it, stay back
for a little while so it won’t run away. A wounded animal can still outrun you,
and you don’t want it getting away so it can suffer and be coyote food. If it’s
wounded enough you can approach it but it won’t get up, slit its throat, or put
another round through its head to put it out of its misery.
This is the deer I shot. In the bottom center of the photo
you can see the red spot where I hit it.
It dropped on the first shot. When we
butchered it, we discovered it was a lung shot.
9. Put the tag on it. Once the dear
is dead, you have to fill out the tag and put it on the deer. You’ll have to
sign the tag, and put the time/date of the kill.
10. Gut it and load it or load it and
gut it. There’s some discrepancy about what to do next. You can either gut it
right where you killed it and they load it into the pickup, or you can load it
into the pickup, take it to where you’ll be processing it, and then gut it. If
you gut it on the field it’s lighter and easier to load. If you gut it where
you’ll be processing it, it’ll probably be warmer (winter deer season) but
you’ll have to haul the guts away. We decided to load it without gutting it
because we wanted to save time so we could look for another deer for my dad.
It was worth it, because we both found one.
11. Hang it up. After it’s gutted, you
can cut part of the hind legs off so you can hang it up. It needs to hang for
at least a day so the meat won’t be really tough. It has to do with how the
meat reacts to death.
It's a slow process, but first you have to cut of the ends
of the legs to be able to hang it from the hocks.
12. Skin it. There’s also some debate
here. Some people skin it and then let it hang, and others don’t skin it until
they’re ready to get the meat. Here’s the reasoning for skinning it first: it’s
a little cleaner. When skinning, hair and dirt from the hide is bound to get on
the meat. If you skin it first, then let it hang for a day or so, a hard crust
will form on the outer portion of the meat. We skin off this crust, and it
provides a clean layer of meat to process. I’m sure professionals can get in
there lickety-split and not get a single hair on the meat, but we’re not that
good.
13. Let it hang. Wait a day or so to
let it process. Make sure it’s in a clean, cold space so the meat doesn’t
spoil.
14. Set up a processing shop. You’ll
need sharp knives, a clean table, a few tubs to store the meat and seasonings.
I wanted my deer turned into summer sausage, deer sticks, and deer jerkey
because that’s what my husband prefers, but other people cut it into ground
venison, can it, or save chunks for roasts and whatnot. For my summer sausage
and deer sticks, we used my uncle’s grinder, sausage casings, and seasonings.
For the jerky, we used a slicer.
15. Process the meat. Here’s where you
grind, season, pack the sausage casings and slice the meat for strips of jerky.
The jerky needs to sit in a marinade to season the meat.
Here's Wyatt working with some of the deer sticks.
16. Cook the meat. Depending on the
amount of meat, look online for what temperature and amount of time you need to
cook the meat at. It’s a lengthy process, so be sure that you won’t need to use
the oven for at least six hours. For the jerky, lay the strips over a hail
screen and cook it in the oven, or cook it in the smoker.
Deer sticks post-cooking. We cut them into
smaller pieces and vacuum seal them.
Cooked strips of jerky.
17. Pack and store the meat. My
husband and I aren’t about to eat 40+ pounds of meat before it all goes bad, so
vacuum seal the meat, put some in the fridge and some in the freezer.
18. Enjoy the meat!
Here's the man who's going to be eating the
bulk of the meat... Turns out deer
products make a great Christmas present!
Some thoughts: Hunting is a great
way to come face to face with your food. Since less than 2% of the American
population are directly involved in production agriculture, that means about
98% of the population hasn’t had the opportunity raise or process their own
food, outside of maybe a garden. It’s hard work to produce food.
Hunting is a little different
because the animals are wild. They raise themselves, and we use that meat for
sustenance. It’s also different because hunting is fun—it’s fun to go out and
drive around God’s country. It’s fun to hang out and talk and look around for
some brown spots on the horizon. It’s fun to test yourself and your mastery
with a weapon.
For anyone...
who says...
Kansas isn't...
absolutely, beautifully, breathtaking.
But we have to remember that we
are stewards over the land. That we should care for it, and try our best not to
be wasteful. We’re not out there just to get a pretty pearly white rack to hang
in our living room or get a cool picture to put on Facebook.
Because let's face it... a real country girl
doesn't need any props in her selfies. :)
Tuesday, December 15, 2015
Facing fears and chasing dreams
It's kind of funny how often pursing a passion means coming face to face with the things we fear the most. Whether it's the fear of rejection, failure,or heights, it seems like life's greatest pursuits lay on just the other side of great personal perils. Unfortunately, this isn't always inherently obvious.
About a month ago I found out that I was accepted into the agricultural communications graduate program at Oklahoma State University, and that I was expected to start on January 11th. Around the same time Ty was offered an amazing internship from January to April with an accounting firm in Nashville... dreams and fears. We were going to have to choose between career, education, comfort, and passions.
The first year of our relationship was long distance, and look at us now... married for almost three years, together for almost five. I know we can handle a few months apart, even if it's going to be difficult.
So here we are, pursing our dreams of a joyful marriage (facing the fears of personal or professional failure), pursing our dreams of education (dealing with hard work, student loans, making the tough decision between different institutions, and distance), and pursuing our dreams of professional success (fearing failure, living apart, long working hours during the busy tax season, moving again, and the bills that come along with caring for two separate households).
After a wonderful thanksgiving together, I left our home in Nashville so I could chase my academic and professional dreams. First stop? Stillwater, Oklahoma, over 600 miles away.
Without stopping, Google Maps estimated the trip at nine hours and 54 minutes... I made it in twelve. I thought it was going to be a lot longer when, an hour into the trip, I had to stop and take a nap. I stopped once more to get some gas, tea, and internet (in that order), and stopped a third time to get some gas and fries. Tired, fried, and having listened to about eleven hours of radio, I was glad when I finally crawled out of the car. Papi was so happy he ran for about an hour straight.
Ty's dad and his girlfriend, Kim, live(d) together in Stillwater, and were kind enough to open their home to me. I was met with a big pan of spicy cheeses spaghetti, a hug, and a comfy couch to sleep on.
In the morning, Ty's Dad left for his first day of work as the manager at a new store, and I left to find somewhere to live in the coming semester. I'd already called about six people from ads I'd found on Zillow or Craigslist, my phone was charged (for the GPS) and I had about half a tank of gas.
The first place I went and looked at was a three bedroom mobile home. It was out in the "country" on 1.25 acres, with a fenced in yard. According the property manager, all it needed was two new doors and it would be "move in ready."... The road to the place was filled with potholes, and when we pulled up, four neighborhood dogs were quick to "welcome" Papi and me. Anyway, I'm not sure who he thought would be moving in... Maybe the Adams family. So that one was out.
I spent the rest of the day driving around Stillwater to no avail. By the time I'd had enough, Kim and I went on a walk around Boomer Lake--which is basically a big pond. It was right around sunset, and the beautiful pastel colors reflected off of the water. Papi was sufficiently worn out. When we were done walking, we went to supper at Chili's with David (unlimited enchiladas!) and then settled in for the night.
The next day, I met the professor that I'm going to be working with in the coming semester. He introduced me to the other faculty, showed me around the building, and enrolled me in my first class as a grad student. (A communications ethics course... maybe I'll talk about my opinions on ethics classes later...) Anyway, he also offered to show me around Stillwater.
So, he took me out and we drove ALL OVER TOWN. For about three hours I think. I got to see a small two-bedroom house that looked kind of promising, got the number for a spiffy three-bedroom house, and then he got ahold of some of his relation that owned a rental property in Stillwater.
It's a two-bedroom apartment in a house that's been modified to accommodate two apartments. Rent's low, and it's less than a mile away from campus... Obviously it's give and take and no place I'm going to find is going to be perfect, but let's hope it's a good, safe place to live while I'm going to school.
I left Stillwater for Manhattan, to visit my mom and brother, Tucker. Instead of taking the interstate, I took a (toll-free) highway. I wondered how anyone could ever think that Kansas isn't beautiful. It got dark on the way, and after living in Nashville, I forgot how dark it can get! It was almost smothering to have the blackness all around except for my high beams.
When I (finally) made it to Manhattan, I met Mom and Tucker and we went out to eat at a local gem: So Long Saloon. It was delicious, and, of course, we had plenty of leftovers. In the morning, Tucker went to school and Mom had a "take your (22-year-old) daughter to work" day. I saw the Best Western hotel that she manages (way to go, Mom!) and we went to a gym together because Mom did what I should do and signed up for a gym membership.
Each gym membership comes with three free meetings with a personal trainer, and they were nice enough to let me piggy back into her session. The trainer told us that the foundation of any fitness program should be "mobility and stability" and before doing any difficult exercises, a person first needs to correct any weaknesses, imbalances, or mobility issues that they have. (This is why programs like Crossfit and P90X or Insanity should only be used by people who are in GREAT shape and already have a solid foundation of mobility and stability.
The trainer told us that both of us pronate when we squat, but I learned that I have the best shoulders he's ever seen, as in structure and muscle balance.... woot woot! He designed a workout program for Mom and if she sticks with it for one year, he expects her to gain ten pounds of muscle and lose twenty pounds of fat... I'm now wishing I was still in Manhattan so I could work with him and I could change my body that way!
In honor of her gym membership and my obvious commitment to fitness, we went to IHOP for lunch. lawlz. It was delicious, though, and we both got pretty healthy meals. My bacon temptation omelet was the bomb!
We didn't have too much time together as Tucker was in school, Mom still had work stuff to do, and I was still trying to edit my book, keep in touch with my (geographically) distant husband, and edit a novel.
I left for home on Friday to throw a surprise party for my dad and sister whose birthdays were going to be on Saturday and Sunday. It wasn't anything huge or elaborate, but I had a good time and I hope they did too.
Over the next week, I went hunting, continued editing my novel, and tried to build up courage.
We all have it; that one thing that we would eat slugs to avoid. Our greatest fears. For some people, that's heights, or snakes, or tight spaces, or darkness, or even cotton balls. (No judgement.) For me, it's the fear of rejection, the fear of failure, and the fear of other people's perceptions of me.
About a month ago I found out that I was accepted into the agricultural communications graduate program at Oklahoma State University, and that I was expected to start on January 11th. Around the same time Ty was offered an amazing internship from January to April with an accounting firm in Nashville... dreams and fears. We were going to have to choose between career, education, comfort, and passions.
The first year of our relationship was long distance, and look at us now... married for almost three years, together for almost five. I know we can handle a few months apart, even if it's going to be difficult.
So here we are, pursing our dreams of a joyful marriage (facing the fears of personal or professional failure), pursing our dreams of education (dealing with hard work, student loans, making the tough decision between different institutions, and distance), and pursuing our dreams of professional success (fearing failure, living apart, long working hours during the busy tax season, moving again, and the bills that come along with caring for two separate households).
After a wonderful thanksgiving together, I left our home in Nashville so I could chase my academic and professional dreams. First stop? Stillwater, Oklahoma, over 600 miles away.
Without stopping, Google Maps estimated the trip at nine hours and 54 minutes... I made it in twelve. I thought it was going to be a lot longer when, an hour into the trip, I had to stop and take a nap. I stopped once more to get some gas, tea, and internet (in that order), and stopped a third time to get some gas and fries. Tired, fried, and having listened to about eleven hours of radio, I was glad when I finally crawled out of the car. Papi was so happy he ran for about an hour straight.
Ty's dad and his girlfriend, Kim, live(d) together in Stillwater, and were kind enough to open their home to me. I was met with a big pan of spicy cheeses spaghetti, a hug, and a comfy couch to sleep on.
In the morning, Ty's Dad left for his first day of work as the manager at a new store, and I left to find somewhere to live in the coming semester. I'd already called about six people from ads I'd found on Zillow or Craigslist, my phone was charged (for the GPS) and I had about half a tank of gas.
The first place I went and looked at was a three bedroom mobile home. It was out in the "country" on 1.25 acres, with a fenced in yard. According the property manager, all it needed was two new doors and it would be "move in ready."... The road to the place was filled with potholes, and when we pulled up, four neighborhood dogs were quick to "welcome" Papi and me. Anyway, I'm not sure who he thought would be moving in... Maybe the Adams family. So that one was out.
I spent the rest of the day driving around Stillwater to no avail. By the time I'd had enough, Kim and I went on a walk around Boomer Lake--which is basically a big pond. It was right around sunset, and the beautiful pastel colors reflected off of the water. Papi was sufficiently worn out. When we were done walking, we went to supper at Chili's with David (unlimited enchiladas!) and then settled in for the night.
The next day, I met the professor that I'm going to be working with in the coming semester. He introduced me to the other faculty, showed me around the building, and enrolled me in my first class as a grad student. (A communications ethics course... maybe I'll talk about my opinions on ethics classes later...) Anyway, he also offered to show me around Stillwater.
So, he took me out and we drove ALL OVER TOWN. For about three hours I think. I got to see a small two-bedroom house that looked kind of promising, got the number for a spiffy three-bedroom house, and then he got ahold of some of his relation that owned a rental property in Stillwater.
It's a two-bedroom apartment in a house that's been modified to accommodate two apartments. Rent's low, and it's less than a mile away from campus... Obviously it's give and take and no place I'm going to find is going to be perfect, but let's hope it's a good, safe place to live while I'm going to school.
I left Stillwater for Manhattan, to visit my mom and brother, Tucker. Instead of taking the interstate, I took a (toll-free) highway. I wondered how anyone could ever think that Kansas isn't beautiful. It got dark on the way, and after living in Nashville, I forgot how dark it can get! It was almost smothering to have the blackness all around except for my high beams.
When I (finally) made it to Manhattan, I met Mom and Tucker and we went out to eat at a local gem: So Long Saloon. It was delicious, and, of course, we had plenty of leftovers. In the morning, Tucker went to school and Mom had a "take your (22-year-old) daughter to work" day. I saw the Best Western hotel that she manages (way to go, Mom!) and we went to a gym together because Mom did what I should do and signed up for a gym membership.
Each gym membership comes with three free meetings with a personal trainer, and they were nice enough to let me piggy back into her session. The trainer told us that the foundation of any fitness program should be "mobility and stability" and before doing any difficult exercises, a person first needs to correct any weaknesses, imbalances, or mobility issues that they have. (This is why programs like Crossfit and P90X or Insanity should only be used by people who are in GREAT shape and already have a solid foundation of mobility and stability.
The trainer told us that both of us pronate when we squat, but I learned that I have the best shoulders he's ever seen, as in structure and muscle balance.... woot woot! He designed a workout program for Mom and if she sticks with it for one year, he expects her to gain ten pounds of muscle and lose twenty pounds of fat... I'm now wishing I was still in Manhattan so I could work with him and I could change my body that way!
In honor of her gym membership and my obvious commitment to fitness, we went to IHOP for lunch. lawlz. It was delicious, though, and we both got pretty healthy meals. My bacon temptation omelet was the bomb!
We didn't have too much time together as Tucker was in school, Mom still had work stuff to do, and I was still trying to edit my book, keep in touch with my (geographically) distant husband, and edit a novel.
I left for home on Friday to throw a surprise party for my dad and sister whose birthdays were going to be on Saturday and Sunday. It wasn't anything huge or elaborate, but I had a good time and I hope they did too.
Over the next week, I went hunting, continued editing my novel, and tried to build up courage.
We all have it; that one thing that we would eat slugs to avoid. Our greatest fears. For some people, that's heights, or snakes, or tight spaces, or darkness, or even cotton balls. (No judgement.) For me, it's the fear of rejection, the fear of failure, and the fear of other people's perceptions of me.
I developed these fears sometime in high school... right around the time I started being bullied. I'm not going to say this girl spat on me, or called me names, or anything. Actually, she never did anything to my face. What she--and other people who I thought were my friends--did was exclude me. One time she invited everybody to an after school event, and told people not to invite me. I found out later that I was only invited because the foreign exchange students (people I'd known for only months as opposed to years) had stood up for me.
I wondered why people didn't like me. I wondered what I'd done wrong to deserve such treatment. I wondered what people said about me behind my back. I built up a case against myself. I wondered what she had that I didn't, because she'd gotten so many people to agree with her. I nitpicked every single thing I'd done or said and thought about what I could do differently so that wouldn't ever happen again. I thought back to all of the mean things I said or done to others, and I hated myself for it because I knew how much it hurt. I became an observer, because it's easier to avoid mistakes by avoiding risks.
So here I am, three and a half years, post-high school, married, graduated from college, with all these amazing adventures under my belt, and still struggling with this habit of building a case against myself. I wonder why I don't have a slew of friends. I wonder why only two people from my high school attended my wedding. I wonder when I'll ever get over this.
I'm working on a project, my passion, and I can't bring myself to leave the house because I am terrified. See, for this project, I need to go out and interview ten older women. I want to ask them about their lives, their experiences, and ask for the wisdom they can pass on. I want to take these interviews and turn them into a book so other people can read about their amazing lives. So fifty years from now their grandchildren can pick up the book and say, "So that's what my grandmother was like. She was amazing."
I haven't even interviewed them yet, and I know their lives are amazing, because every life is amazing.
But I'm sitting here in my dad's house, riddled with an overwhelming amount of anxiety.
What if the women I ask say no?
What if they think I'm silly?
What if they think I'm being intrusive?
What if they don't like what I write about them?
What if I write the book and no one ever reads it... it would be a dishonor to their legacies.
What if I never finish the project?
This fear is exhausting. For a girl who usually never goes to sleep before midnight, I've been going to sleep at nine PM and waking up at eight. My stomach has been upset. I have dark circles under my eyes. I want to cry and sleep at the same time. I don't know what would be worse: asking them, or not asking them.
Their stories deserve to be told.
I've already met with three women, which brings my total number of interviewees to four. It always seems so scary before I'm doing it, but while I'm interviewing, I'm in love! These women are so amazing and open and honest and I fall in love with their stories. I'm hoping to get ten before I publish, but that's not really a strict goal. I would be satisfied with five or six or seven or eight or nine as well. :) We'll just have to see where this takes me.
A really special moment happened when I was interviewing one of the ladies on my 22nd birthday. A woman randomly walked into this woman's room, who was a good friend of my gram's. She was able to catch up with Gram really shortly before she went to the hospital and soon after passed away, and this woman told me that talking with Gram was one of the best times of her life over the last few years. I can't remember perfectly what she said, which has me thinking that it was probably Gram's way of telling me happy birthday. <3
My birthday was a really hard day. It's always hard to know that you're growing older and that your expectations of yourself at a certain age haven't been met. It was hard to be away from my husband. I didn't get a birthday cake and no one sang to me. It was the first year I didn't get a card from my grandma. I went to the movies in Sharon Springs by myself. What made it better was the people who took time our of their lives to mail me gifts (Thank you Grandma and Grandpa Stelting for my new outfit and scarf! It's perfect!), call or text me, and write me sweet messages on Facebook, and my husband who sent me a bunch of "open when" letters. I'm glad that I'm starting to figure out who really cares and who doesn't. The next step is surrounding myself with the people who care and focusing my energy on showing them how much of love them (a lot!).
I shot a deer the day after my birthday, which just happened to be the last day of season. We were just about ready to give up with an hour of sunlight left, but I finally got one. :) It was a clean kill--a lung shot from about eighty yards.
He's not super huge--his rack's pretty thin--but he'll still make great jerky and summer sausage!
I got my hair done yesterday, and I have a lunch date today to talk with a woman about maybe possibly getting some grant money to work on my project. Fingers crossed!
I'll just keep praying about my life, and for my husband, and for the right skills to tell these special stories so that these women's memories can live on for many many years to come.
A really special moment happened when I was interviewing one of the ladies on my 22nd birthday. A woman randomly walked into this woman's room, who was a good friend of my gram's. She was able to catch up with Gram really shortly before she went to the hospital and soon after passed away, and this woman told me that talking with Gram was one of the best times of her life over the last few years. I can't remember perfectly what she said, which has me thinking that it was probably Gram's way of telling me happy birthday. <3
My birthday was a really hard day. It's always hard to know that you're growing older and that your expectations of yourself at a certain age haven't been met. It was hard to be away from my husband. I didn't get a birthday cake and no one sang to me. It was the first year I didn't get a card from my grandma. I went to the movies in Sharon Springs by myself. What made it better was the people who took time our of their lives to mail me gifts (Thank you Grandma and Grandpa Stelting for my new outfit and scarf! It's perfect!), call or text me, and write me sweet messages on Facebook, and my husband who sent me a bunch of "open when" letters. I'm glad that I'm starting to figure out who really cares and who doesn't. The next step is surrounding myself with the people who care and focusing my energy on showing them how much of love them (a lot!).
I shot a deer the day after my birthday, which just happened to be the last day of season. We were just about ready to give up with an hour of sunlight left, but I finally got one. :) It was a clean kill--a lung shot from about eighty yards.
He's not super huge--his rack's pretty thin--but he'll still make great jerky and summer sausage!
I got my hair done yesterday, and I have a lunch date today to talk with a woman about maybe possibly getting some grant money to work on my project. Fingers crossed!
I'll just keep praying about my life, and for my husband, and for the right skills to tell these special stories so that these women's memories can live on for many many years to come.
Sunday, November 29, 2015
TY-do, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore.
Every Thanksgiving, a family fills their plates from table so loaded with food, it could fatten twelve hogs for slaughter. They sit down, start shoveling heaps of mashed potatoes, stuffing, and--for the over-eager family members--pumpkin pie into their mouths. A few spoonfuls into the meal, one of the adults suggests (to the chagrin of the youngsters) that every person at the table says one thing he or she is thankful for. The very young children always mention something "awwww" worthy, the teenagers smart off, and everyone else says some variation of good health, good home, good food, good company, and so on.
Well, that was my family for the last twenty years... if you're wondering, I was the over-eager dessert eater. As far as I can remember, (which, to be fair, is only fifteen years or so) this was my first Thanksgiving away from my family, and the first thanksgiving I didn't get to spend with my Grandma Hoss. As I've grown older, and hopefully wiser, I'm realizing how important of a role gratitude plays in happiness. So when my older family members were so annoyingly keeping me from my pie, they were actually teaching me lessons in happiness. Disappointingly, dessert can only do so much.
This year, we live a bit farther away. My family is now Ty and me. Luckily, marrying Ty meant that I gained one of the best extended families. For me, it's not the "in-laws"; it's just my big, crazy, awesome Stelting/Howard/McClellan family. The Stelting Grandparents drove all the way to Nashville (over ten hours!!!) to celebrate Thanksgiving with us. I feel so honored and loved that they could have been anywhere in the world, and they chose to spend the holidays with us in our dinky one-bedroom apartment, eating over a folding table with mismatched chairs.
This Thanksgiving, I would like to celebrate the last several days with a thanks-giving blog, because Lord knows I have so much to be thankful for.
Wednesday
On Wednesday morning, Ty went to work. He deals with data in a realty company that rents out buildings to giant shopping centers, like Target, Publix, Dicks Sporting Goods, Texas Road House, and more. He's even been able to help create policies for the entire company. (Ty won't brag, because he's humble, but I'm allowed to because he's awesome.)
Wednesday also happened to be the day that Mary Beth and Jerald Stelting were supposed to arrive in Nashville. Purely by coincidence, that was the day I decided to clean our apartment top-to-bottom and make it appropriate for guests.
On his way home from work around one o'clock, Ty got stuck in "terrible" traffic.
This is apparently what "terrible traffic" looks like. :) I ended up with a cute teddy bear balloon (or is it a gorilla?) and an edible arrangement complete with heart-shaped pineapples, strawberries, grapes, and chocolate-covered apples. (Maybe dessert does bring some happiness.)
Around 1:30, our guests of honor arrived! We ate some lunch, and since they'd spent most of the morning in the car, we took them (and Papi) to one of our favorite walking trails by Percy Priest lake.
Mary Beth (who I'm told actually reads this blog!) said, "I just knew you were going to take that picture!"
What can I say? When you see a couple that's been married for over fifty years holding hands on a scenic walk, you take a picture! It's a rare sight to see people so happily married, and I loved that I was able to glimpse it. I asked them once how they'd managed to stay together for so long, and Jerald said, "Time flies when you're having fun."
Can you tell why I love this family so much? They'd picked the pecans themselves, and the pie was homemade... and delicious.
What a better way to top off a great day than with a game of Phase 10. The only way the day could have been improved was if I would have won instead of Ty.
Thursday
Thanksgiving day was finally upon us! The weather was fantastic, and we were looking forward to a great meal with stuffing, turkey, jalapeno cheese dip (AKA legal crack), Mary Beth's famous spicy broccoli cheese casserole, and, of course, dessert.
While the food cooked, I preoccupied myself with editing my book. Brief side note: I'm currently editing my first full-length novel. It's a book geared towards high school-aged girls, about a girl who deals with great success, bullying, losing friends, injuries, boys, and trying to figure out her place in the world. My sister, Savannah, is going to illustrate it, and I think it's going to be really grand! Keep an eye out for the finished product. :)
Papi, however, had other activities in mind... like getting petted.
He was a little disappointed when I asked him to leave me alone and when Ty wouldn't give him any Turkey, so he pouted in his corner.
We all took a nap after lunch, and then hung around the apartment the rest of the day. We finally woke up enough around 7:00 to play a round of Golf (a card game). The only way the night would have been better, would be if I had won instead of Jerald.
Friday
Black Friday... It should be called "black-eye-Friday" because everybody's out beating each other up over discounted roasting pans they won't need for another year.
We weren't quite brave enough to get up early and face the shopping crowds, but we did go to the mall around eleven to see if there were any good deals. It was a madhouse. The parking lot was absolutely packed, and Ty (who was driving) actually had to use some of the parking skills he learned at K-State to snag us a spot. (See? A college education is worth something now-a-days!)
Our shopping turned out well because I got a really cute pair of fifty-dollar jeans for only seventeen dollars. My favorite part was the sparkly pockets.
After we made a break from the crowded mall, we went to a restaurant called "Las Casuelas". My Mexican friend in the apartments tells me that it's pretty close to being authentic Mexican food... and it's delicious. Even though I was still in my stretchy pants from indulging the day before, we enjoyed ourselves a great meal, and even though I took half of my food home with me, I was still stuffed.
We played a game of Mexican Train (we're very cultured, no?) which took over two hours. When we finished we played "Old Maid In" which is basically a fun way of picking up all of the dominoes. (I won!)
The only way the day could have been better, would be if I'd won Mexican Train instead of Jerald.
Saturday
Even though Catholics aren't really supposed to decorate for Christmas until Christmas Eve, we set up our tree. Mostly because I'm leaving soon, and I at least wanted to decorate the apartment with Ty.
Papi's convinced that he's the only gift worthy of laying under the tree... he might be right.
After decorating, we took our guests out to our favorite restaurant in Nashville, for our favorite food of all time: Gryos! No one can come visit us without trying it. There aren't any pictures of this because it's all gone before I can even think to take a picture. That's how good it tastes!
With full bellies, we went to the Barnes and Noble by Vanderbilt so I could find a book on tape for my drive home... We left with about six actual books and no book on tape. And, as Ty informed me, you can't really read and drive. Guess I'll have to listen to the radio.
We went by our church, Cathedral of the Incarnation, to show Ty's grandparents where we go to church. I think it was built in the early 1900s, and it really is a beautiful building.
From worship to lordship, we went to Gaylord's Oprymills resort, and walked around the hotel. It was--to put it simply--ridiculous. Everything was over the top. Brian McClellan (Ty's stepdad) loves it, I think because it is bursting with just about as much energy as he has!
Our cousin, Mark Goudy, said he stayed in the hotel the night after coming back from Philmont, a two-week, technology free camping trip. I can only imagine how overwhelming it must have been for him!
There was a huge glass structure in the lobby, and I immediately recognized it a Czech glass. It only said the artist's name (who was a Czech man) but I wondered if it came from the factory we visited oh-so-long-ago when we were in the Czech Republic.
Here we are in front of an indoor waterfall/koi pond/fountain/Christmas light display.
There were giant lights hanging from the ceilings in the shapes of music notes, guitars, and random twinkling lights.
The best people I was able to experience it with.
And indoor gazebo with a fountain surrounded by real poinsettias.
So I must admit that Ty and I don't have a television. When we want to watch shows, we pull up Netflix on one of our computers, or play a DVD from our small--but growing--collection. I also must admit that Ty and his (our) family are giant sports fans, particularly of the Oklahoma (OU, Thunder, SWOSU) teams, but are not I REPEAT are not fans of Oklahoma State University.
Saturday night was an important night because of the bedlam game. (I hope I'm saying that correctly, or they might disown me.) It was the big night where OU was playing my future alma mater, OSU, or, as I like to call them, OK State. So, Ty sat his laptop on a folding chair and found the game on ESPN. The three of them sat huddled around the screen, cheering as my future school get stomped by OU.
I worked on editing my book.
The only way the night could have been better, was if OK State would have won. :)
Sunday
Sunday funday. Church day!As I grow in my faith, I've really come to look forward to mass on Sundays. I love being able to gather with my brothers and sisters in Christ who are at varying levels in their faith journeys, sing beautiful hymns, say prayers I know are being said in Catholic churches throughout the world, hear the same scripture that's being told in every single Catholic church, encounter God in the Eucharist, and experience it all with Ty at my side.
And, because Ty drives us, I entertain myself with road trip selfies... a few of them turn out alright. Mostly I just annoy Ty with the shutter sounds.
It also happened to be raining ALL DAY. Coming from the driest part of Kansas, I never thought in my life I would get annoyed with rain... well, I'm annoyed by it here. Everything is so wet that mold grows almost immediately. My car smells like mold. But, anyway, back to the thankful part, it kept us in the house for most of the day and we got to spend even more quality time with these wonderful people.
We braved the weather to go to a movie theater and watch "Love the Coopers" it was a cute movie, but the popcorn was probably the best part!
At the end of the night, Mary Beth taught Ty how to properly wrap presents, because Ty and I have some presents for my family that needed wrapped.
Ty felt a little under-pressure with such an attentive audience.
The only way the night could have been better... well, I don't really know how to finish that sentence.
I feel like in some ways this has become a sort of "coming of age" blog. I know most people come of age when they're 13 or 16 or 18, or 17 if you're a wizard, but I'm still working it out. As I grow older, and my family grows, relocates, or passes on, traditions will always change. The best I can do is enjoy my family while I still have them, and let them know how much I love them, and how absolutely thankful I am for the time I have with them.
I love you.
Saturday, November 21, 2015
Novel Experiences
I remember when I was in high school, and people always told me some version of, "Enjoy it, because it goes by so fast." Well, sorry, but high school didn't fly by. It seemed like every day was longer than the last and time crawled by at such glacial pace I thought it would never end... and then I graduated.
Three and a half years later, I'm married, a college graduate, have traveled in 13 different countries, lived in three different countries, was confirmed into the Catholic Church, have my first (dog) child, moved fifteen hours away from my home town, and started (and quit) my first full-time job post-college.
What?
It's been four months since we moved to Nashville, three and a half months since I decided not to attend Vanderbilt, three months since my grandma went to live in heaven, two months since I started my first post-college job, and one day since I quit.
What?
It seems like yesterday I drove to Manhattan and moved into the dorms and (awkwardly/nervously/excitedly) met my roommate for the first time. It seems like only a few seconds ago that we were making some our best memories in Prague at Chapeau Rogue. Only minutes since we met such wonderful people in RCIA at St. Thomas More. And here I am.
I started working at an insurance marketing firm as a data entry clerk in October. I wasn't really sure how it would go, but I knew I needed a job. So I went to work from 7 AM to 4 PM Monday through Friday, suffered through the Nashville traffic, and got my steady paychecks. For eight hours a day, I typed bits of names and numbers into a data base, and the only way I kept my sanity was by commiserating with some wonderful coworkers, listening to TED talks and podcasts all day, and dreaming of the moment when I would become a #1 New York Times best seller. (Still dreaming.) Did you know that John Green, the famous author of The Fault in Our Stars, first worked in data entry? He probably had big dreams, too.
I digress.
It amazes me how our dreams lead us to different places, and force us to become different sorts of people. Ty, whose big dream is to become a CPA and stellar husband, is the most reliable, steadfast person I know. He is comfortable being anywhere, but also appreciates order and consistency in his life. Me? Well, I guess I'm still working out my dreams. Right now, it's to become a writer, whatever that means. I guess I'm already a writer, so I should expand upon that by saying that I want to become a paid writer. And life is too short to wait?
So like I said, dreams lead us to different places. Right now, my dream is leading me to Sharon Springs, Kansas for three weeks to continue working on two books. The first is a two parts fiction, one part memoir novel geared towards teenage girls. My sister, Savannah, who is a talented artist, is going to help me illustrate this book. The other book I'm working on is a compilation of short biographies of rural, Wallace County women and how they've shaped the world around them. I am so looking forward to getting to know some of the women in my home county and sharing their stories!
Obviously I can't write a whole book in three weeks, but it'll be the beginning of a beautiful project. After my three weeks in Wallace County, I'm excited to announce that I've been offered an assistantship to attend graduate school at Oklahoma State University! I'll be starting the masters of science program in Agricultural Communications. Basically, I'll work twenty hours a week as a teaching assistant, and in exchange I'll have my tuition paid for a small stipend to live on. I'm considering it like a job with a two year contract. :) It will definitely be my best paying job so far!
Nashville hasn't been what we imagined it would be, but then again, nothing in life ever seems to match expectations. Stillwater seems to be a great (smaller) town with less traffic, kind people, and a wonderful, all-expenses-paid graduate education. So here I am, wondering where life will lead us in the next blink of an eye.
Three and a half years later, I'm married, a college graduate, have traveled in 13 different countries, lived in three different countries, was confirmed into the Catholic Church, have my first (dog) child, moved fifteen hours away from my home town, and started (and quit) my first full-time job post-college.
What?
It's been four months since we moved to Nashville, three and a half months since I decided not to attend Vanderbilt, three months since my grandma went to live in heaven, two months since I started my first post-college job, and one day since I quit.
What?
It seems like yesterday I drove to Manhattan and moved into the dorms and (awkwardly/nervously/excitedly) met my roommate for the first time. It seems like only a few seconds ago that we were making some our best memories in Prague at Chapeau Rogue. Only minutes since we met such wonderful people in RCIA at St. Thomas More. And here I am.
I started working at an insurance marketing firm as a data entry clerk in October. I wasn't really sure how it would go, but I knew I needed a job. So I went to work from 7 AM to 4 PM Monday through Friday, suffered through the Nashville traffic, and got my steady paychecks. For eight hours a day, I typed bits of names and numbers into a data base, and the only way I kept my sanity was by commiserating with some wonderful coworkers, listening to TED talks and podcasts all day, and dreaming of the moment when I would become a #1 New York Times best seller. (Still dreaming.) Did you know that John Green, the famous author of The Fault in Our Stars, first worked in data entry? He probably had big dreams, too.
I digress.
It amazes me how our dreams lead us to different places, and force us to become different sorts of people. Ty, whose big dream is to become a CPA and stellar husband, is the most reliable, steadfast person I know. He is comfortable being anywhere, but also appreciates order and consistency in his life. Me? Well, I guess I'm still working out my dreams. Right now, it's to become a writer, whatever that means. I guess I'm already a writer, so I should expand upon that by saying that I want to become a paid writer. And life is too short to wait?
So like I said, dreams lead us to different places. Right now, my dream is leading me to Sharon Springs, Kansas for three weeks to continue working on two books. The first is a two parts fiction, one part memoir novel geared towards teenage girls. My sister, Savannah, who is a talented artist, is going to help me illustrate this book. The other book I'm working on is a compilation of short biographies of rural, Wallace County women and how they've shaped the world around them. I am so looking forward to getting to know some of the women in my home county and sharing their stories!
Obviously I can't write a whole book in three weeks, but it'll be the beginning of a beautiful project. After my three weeks in Wallace County, I'm excited to announce that I've been offered an assistantship to attend graduate school at Oklahoma State University! I'll be starting the masters of science program in Agricultural Communications. Basically, I'll work twenty hours a week as a teaching assistant, and in exchange I'll have my tuition paid for a small stipend to live on. I'm considering it like a job with a two year contract. :) It will definitely be my best paying job so far!
Nashville hasn't been what we imagined it would be, but then again, nothing in life ever seems to match expectations. Stillwater seems to be a great (smaller) town with less traffic, kind people, and a wonderful, all-expenses-paid graduate education. So here I am, wondering where life will lead us in the next blink of an eye.
Sunday, November 15, 2015
A Run with My Number One
Friday night on October 30th, my wife and I did our first 5K together and it was completely planned by her. She surprised me because I really like to run and I really like go to outrageous dances. This was a combination of both. We had probably one of the best times we ever had in Nashville at night. The music was amazing and CRAZY people were going insane for all the items they were giving away.
 |
| This was the first person we noticed had an awesome costume for Halloween. Kelsie was holding a knife and fulfilled the dream of all people of who are afraid of clowns. |
The registration process that we went through gave a shirt and a front registration tag. Afterwards we joined all the people for a pre-run dance.
The run for us was more like a walk because we are just not used to running....aka out of shape. However, the walking, dancing, jumping, and excitement got us both exhausted. I would like to thank Kelsie again for always planning the best dates. Here are some more pictures:
Thank you for reading!
Friday, November 6, 2015
The Worst Phone Call
As a 21-year-old freshly graduated from college, living 15 hours away from my home town, I've had to deal with some of the harsher realities and decisions of life. Some of them seem trivial, like trying to figure out where to buy groceries, or which restaurant is better. Some are harder yet, like which clinic should I go to when I'm sick, or what part of town is safe enough to live in. It's tough to realize that your landlord doesn't care about you, but your paycheck. It's hard to deal with when your neighbor gets their car window busted out. And it's a struggle learning when to stand up for yourself and when to just let it go.
But the hardest part of my adult life were two phone calls...
The first one I received on September 2nd, from my sister. She was crying.
"Have you heard about Grandma?" she asked.
I experienced that flutter of hope and fear that only comes from the unknown when talking about your Grandma struggling with cancer.
"No," I said.
My sister told me that she had passed away.
I hope you never know what that feels like, but life experience tells me you probably will.
The second hardest phone call of my adult life is the one I can't make.
When I'm driving home from work...
When something funny happens with my family...
When I want to know what the plans are for Thanksgiving...
I pick up my phone, and for a blissful second I forget that I can't make the call. Then I am crashing down at the realization that I can't call... and that I'll never be able to again. I'm crying at the knowledge that no matter who I call that it won't be the same. That who I call might be too preoccupied with their own lives to talk the way that we used to.
I wonder when this feeling will end and when I won't look at my phone and think of calling her. And then I wonder should ever want to forget, because surely forgetting is worse than the pain.
If I knew then, what I know now, I would have picked up the phone more, so maybe these almost-calls wouldn't feel like lost opportunities.
An inconveniently convenient truth: Cell Phones
I had this post all planed out two weeks ago: I was going to take a weekend away from Nashville, stay in a hotel by myself, spend time in nature, and say goodbye to my cell phone, computers, and television for 48 hours. The post was going to be titled "How to Connect by Disconnecting" and it was going to be an insightful look at how we can form a deeper connection with ourselves and the world around us by unplugging.
After a 36 hour jaunt to Knoxville, I realized that is not the case. At all.
At 10:00 Saturday morning, I went online to book my hotel. I found a small room in a Microtel on the outskirts of Knoxville for half price on Expedia.com. Then, I went to Google Maps, and printed out directions from our apartment to the hotel.
"What are you doing for directions while you're there?" Ty asked me.
What was I planning on doing for directions? I wondered. I was just planning on showing up and asking locals for directions,,, because that always works out well.
Ty convinced me to take his car and GPS so that I could find my way around. By 11:00 I had amended my plans only slightly: I could use GPS over the weekend so I wouldn't get lost.
At 11:30 Ty helped me pack my bags. We packed me a spare outfit for hiking the next day, a cell phone charger (just in case), my laptop (just in case), and my laptop charger (just in case), and my camera, another exception I allowed, so I could document my technology-less trip.
When I was prepared as could be, Ty helped me load my bag into his car, and I sped off toward Knoxville.
At 12:30, I turned off my cell phone.
At 1:00, I wished I could turn it back on.
You see, the drive from Nashville to Knoxville is actually quite scenic this time of year. Their are tall hills covered in thin-trunked trees decorated with leaves of every color. The interstate is two-laned and winding so no ten minutes of driving ever looks the same. Sometimes there are breaks in the forests and you can look out over vast hills covered in green grass and dotted with black, white, and red cattle.
I wished that I could have my cell phone to snap pictures of these beautiful sights while driving by. If I would have had my cell phone, I would have sent the image off in a group text to my three siblings, my parents, and Ty. Dakota and Dad probably wouldn't have replied. Mom would have texted: "Jealous!" Savanna(h) would have sent a weird selfie, and Ty probably would have sent me something sweet.
This time I was alone.
I still hadn't had lunch yet, so when I stopped to get some gas, I didn't look for the nearest Sonic, but instead bought a bottle of water, deciding it was better to wait until I got to Knoxville instead of wasting time wandering around.
After three hours of driving and singing country songs with the radio I arrived at my hotel, checked into my room, and felt even more alone. I couldn't call anyone to let them know I made it. My silence would have to be enough to let them know I was okay.
My stomach was growling at this point, and I almost ordered in pizza so I didn't have to drive around looking for a restaurant. In the spirit of trying something new, I decided to go explore the town. At the second stoplight I came to, I saw a man holding up a cardboard sign reading: "NEED FOOD." He wasn't asking for money or a ride, but people kept speeding on by.
For whatever reason, I rolled down my window and said, "Hey, if you meet me at the CVS I'll buy you some food."
He looked at me and said, "Is it okay if I send my old lady?"
I've never understood why people call their wives "Old Lady" but I don't think of it as a term of endearment. Semantics aside, I said "sure" and made my way to the CVS across the street.
I wasn't quite sure what I was expecting, when I saw this overweight woman in old clothes with black hair dye stains on her hairline walking towards me. She didn't make eye contact with me for longer than a couple of seconds, but was quick to thank me. She smelled like cigarette smoke.
We walked through the store picking some some essentials while we talked.
"We're not homeless," she said. "We get enough money from my husband's disability check to pay rent and utilities, but we just don't have enough money to pay for all the food and diapers we need. We have two girls, and I'm pregnant... Well it was twins, but I lost one."
I apologized for her loss.
"It's okay," she said, "but my doctor told me I couldn't keep working. I was working, but when I lost the one baby he said that I was in a high-risk pregnancy. But my work said they'll take me back once I have this baby."
"Good," I said.
I didn't really know what else to say, so we continued walking through the store. I couldn't imagine what it would be like as a mother of two, with one baby on the way, to be asking strangers to buy food for me... how humbling that must be.
"Do you mind me asking what your husband's disability is?" I asked.
"He can't read or write," she said. "I've been tryin' to teach him, but it's hard."
I nodded. I can barely stand Ty telling me anything about accounting, and I could imagine how frustrating it would be to learn to read and write.
"Did he go to school?" I asked.
"Until the tenth grade," she said.
This puzzled me. How on earth could someone get to the tenth grade without being able to read or write? Most kids by the third or fourth grade can read or write enough to fulfill most entry-level jobs. Honestly, I kind of thought she was full of bologna. What person gets to 10th grade and can't read or write?
When I talked to Ty about it later, he said that happens in lots of inner-city schools. They will push difficult kids through the system even though they can't meet all the standards. And this infuriates me! Yes, students have a duty to learn, but educators and administrators have a duty to protect and fight for a child's education. I wondered how many people wrote this man off as a lost cause, or as a delinquent, or what kind of home life he had... did they know he would be on the side of the road someday? Did they know he would have a wife and children someday?
His "old lady" and I went through checkout and I handed her the bags of groceries.
"I know it's not everything you need," I said, "but I hope it helps."
"We appreciate it so much," she said. "Thank you."
She walked across the street to where her husband was standing on the median. He took a couple of bags from her and they walked back across the road.
I don't know where they were going, or whether he could actually read and write, or if they had children, or what their story is... Reminisce has taught me that every person has a story, and that we shouldn't be so quick to judge. I just feel sad for them, and I hope that they are happy... and if not I hope that they can be happy someday.
I drove off still hungry, and I finally found a restaurant. I ate by myself, and then decided I wanted to find the University of Tennessee-Knoxville and walk around. I was hoping to myself that I could fall in love with Knoxville like I did with Stillwater, but once I got there, it looked just like Nashville. There was a Mellow Mushroom on one side of the street, road construction, and similar restaurants on the other.
Overwhelmed and lonely, I drove back to my hotel and took a nap.
Since it was Halloween night, and I was by myself, I decided to go to a Country Dance Club. I thought it would be nice to socialize with actual humans, drink a beer or two, and maybe even get some swing dancing in!
When I got there, the guy checking IDs at the door almost didn't let me in. It went something like this:
Him: *takes my card, flips it over, rubs his finger over it like he's trying to rub something off of it, tilts it back and forth in the light*
Me: It's not a fake.
Him: *silently fiddling with my card*
Me: Do I not look like I'm 21?
Him: *still fiddling with my card* It's not that. It just looks weird.
Me: Because I'm from Kansas.
Him: *hands it to the guy sitting beside him*
Guy sitting beside him: *looks at it for two seconds* It looks good to me. I'd take it.
Me: *Walks inside and promptly orders a drink just to spite him*
With a drink in my hand, I went and sat at one of the available seats. Since it was Halloween, lots of people were dressed up, but I felt totally exposed. Not because I wasn't wearing a costume, but because I didn't have my cellphone.
It seemed like everyone there was getting on their phones, especially people their by themselves. It didn't seem like anyone was interested in making conversation with someone new. So I sat and watched people mingle and drank my beer. Then I stood, and watched people dance, and drank my beer.
I danced a couple of the group dances, but other than that stayed off the dance floor. Some guy asked me to dance, but midway to the dance floor he ditched me and started making out with some girl dressed as a fairy... I think she must have been a fairy god mother because I definitely dodged a bullet. Then another guy asked me to dance. After one dance, I decided it was time to go back to the hotel.
On the way back to the car, I had a huge spurt of panic: What if something happened in my family and no one could get ahold of me? I didn't tell anyone the hotel I was staying at, I wasn't at the hotel anyway, and no one really had a way of reaching me with my phone off. What if someone called me with their dying breaths and all they got was a voicemail?
I know this sounds ridiculous, but it's what I was thinking. So I turned my phone on, and listened to Ty deliver devastating news about someone in our family. We talked on the phone for a bit, and then we said goodnight. I set my phone on the nightstand, but didn't turn it off.
The next morning, I got up and ate breakfast. The people in the dining room of the hotel were on their computers taking advantage of the free wifi. I sat by myself, enjoyed a breakfast of biscuits, gravy, eggs and sausage, then went back upstairs to pack.
On the drive home I wasn't really sure where I should stop... So I eventually took an interstate exit with a brown sign indicating a dam. Five minutes later I was approaching a great pond creating by a cement damn, surrounded by layers upon layers of multi-colored trees.
I drove up to an overlook and looked out at the damn. I tried to take some pictures of the trees but I couldn't capture how stunning it was in person.
After a few minutes of gazing at my surroundings I found a trail to follow. It looked like not a lot of people took the time to walk it as it was littered with freshly fallen leaves. The only drawback of this was the fact that about every few feet I walked into a spiderweb... My skin is still crawling.
At last I got back to my car and drove closer to the dam. I sat by the water for a little while thinking about life and love... I'll spare you the retelling of my disjointed pondering. :)
Finally, I was on my way home. When I got home, I picked up my phone and texted Ty. He'd had plans to study at the school library, so I asked him when he would be home... and then I waited.
I didn't feel a rush of insight, I didn't feel enlightened, I didn't feel connected. I felt tired and kind of sad. I don't think my life is too dependent on technology; I've done just fine before, spending weeks at Gram's house without cell phone service or internet... What I do feel dependent on is the way I can connect to others using this technology.
I remember my junior year, as a punishment, my parents took away my cell phone. I know this sounds silly, but that was one of the saddest times of my life. None of my friends could call me, and if anyone came up with spontaneous plans over the weekend, I was left out because they'd also cancelled the internet. Maybe last weekend just brought up memories and feelings of that time...
I guess I don't know. But next time I think to myself that people should be reading a book instead of texting or talking on the phone, I'm going to think again that maybe they are forging a meaningful relationship and developing a feeling of connection... after all... Ty and I talked on the phone for the first six months of our relationship, and look how that worked out.
After a 36 hour jaunt to Knoxville, I realized that is not the case. At all.
At 10:00 Saturday morning, I went online to book my hotel. I found a small room in a Microtel on the outskirts of Knoxville for half price on Expedia.com. Then, I went to Google Maps, and printed out directions from our apartment to the hotel.
"What are you doing for directions while you're there?" Ty asked me.
What was I planning on doing for directions? I wondered. I was just planning on showing up and asking locals for directions,,, because that always works out well.
Ty convinced me to take his car and GPS so that I could find my way around. By 11:00 I had amended my plans only slightly: I could use GPS over the weekend so I wouldn't get lost.
At 11:30 Ty helped me pack my bags. We packed me a spare outfit for hiking the next day, a cell phone charger (just in case), my laptop (just in case), and my laptop charger (just in case), and my camera, another exception I allowed, so I could document my technology-less trip.
When I was prepared as could be, Ty helped me load my bag into his car, and I sped off toward Knoxville.
At 12:30, I turned off my cell phone.
At 1:00, I wished I could turn it back on.
You see, the drive from Nashville to Knoxville is actually quite scenic this time of year. Their are tall hills covered in thin-trunked trees decorated with leaves of every color. The interstate is two-laned and winding so no ten minutes of driving ever looks the same. Sometimes there are breaks in the forests and you can look out over vast hills covered in green grass and dotted with black, white, and red cattle.
I wished that I could have my cell phone to snap pictures of these beautiful sights while driving by. If I would have had my cell phone, I would have sent the image off in a group text to my three siblings, my parents, and Ty. Dakota and Dad probably wouldn't have replied. Mom would have texted: "Jealous!" Savanna(h) would have sent a weird selfie, and Ty probably would have sent me something sweet.
This time I was alone.
I still hadn't had lunch yet, so when I stopped to get some gas, I didn't look for the nearest Sonic, but instead bought a bottle of water, deciding it was better to wait until I got to Knoxville instead of wasting time wandering around.
After three hours of driving and singing country songs with the radio I arrived at my hotel, checked into my room, and felt even more alone. I couldn't call anyone to let them know I made it. My silence would have to be enough to let them know I was okay.
My stomach was growling at this point, and I almost ordered in pizza so I didn't have to drive around looking for a restaurant. In the spirit of trying something new, I decided to go explore the town. At the second stoplight I came to, I saw a man holding up a cardboard sign reading: "NEED FOOD." He wasn't asking for money or a ride, but people kept speeding on by.
For whatever reason, I rolled down my window and said, "Hey, if you meet me at the CVS I'll buy you some food."
He looked at me and said, "Is it okay if I send my old lady?"
I've never understood why people call their wives "Old Lady" but I don't think of it as a term of endearment. Semantics aside, I said "sure" and made my way to the CVS across the street.
I wasn't quite sure what I was expecting, when I saw this overweight woman in old clothes with black hair dye stains on her hairline walking towards me. She didn't make eye contact with me for longer than a couple of seconds, but was quick to thank me. She smelled like cigarette smoke.
We walked through the store picking some some essentials while we talked.
"We're not homeless," she said. "We get enough money from my husband's disability check to pay rent and utilities, but we just don't have enough money to pay for all the food and diapers we need. We have two girls, and I'm pregnant... Well it was twins, but I lost one."
I apologized for her loss.
"It's okay," she said, "but my doctor told me I couldn't keep working. I was working, but when I lost the one baby he said that I was in a high-risk pregnancy. But my work said they'll take me back once I have this baby."
"Good," I said.
I didn't really know what else to say, so we continued walking through the store. I couldn't imagine what it would be like as a mother of two, with one baby on the way, to be asking strangers to buy food for me... how humbling that must be.
"Do you mind me asking what your husband's disability is?" I asked.
"He can't read or write," she said. "I've been tryin' to teach him, but it's hard."
I nodded. I can barely stand Ty telling me anything about accounting, and I could imagine how frustrating it would be to learn to read and write.
"Did he go to school?" I asked.
"Until the tenth grade," she said.
This puzzled me. How on earth could someone get to the tenth grade without being able to read or write? Most kids by the third or fourth grade can read or write enough to fulfill most entry-level jobs. Honestly, I kind of thought she was full of bologna. What person gets to 10th grade and can't read or write?
When I talked to Ty about it later, he said that happens in lots of inner-city schools. They will push difficult kids through the system even though they can't meet all the standards. And this infuriates me! Yes, students have a duty to learn, but educators and administrators have a duty to protect and fight for a child's education. I wondered how many people wrote this man off as a lost cause, or as a delinquent, or what kind of home life he had... did they know he would be on the side of the road someday? Did they know he would have a wife and children someday?
His "old lady" and I went through checkout and I handed her the bags of groceries.
"I know it's not everything you need," I said, "but I hope it helps."
"We appreciate it so much," she said. "Thank you."
She walked across the street to where her husband was standing on the median. He took a couple of bags from her and they walked back across the road.
I don't know where they were going, or whether he could actually read and write, or if they had children, or what their story is... Reminisce has taught me that every person has a story, and that we shouldn't be so quick to judge. I just feel sad for them, and I hope that they are happy... and if not I hope that they can be happy someday.
I drove off still hungry, and I finally found a restaurant. I ate by myself, and then decided I wanted to find the University of Tennessee-Knoxville and walk around. I was hoping to myself that I could fall in love with Knoxville like I did with Stillwater, but once I got there, it looked just like Nashville. There was a Mellow Mushroom on one side of the street, road construction, and similar restaurants on the other.
Overwhelmed and lonely, I drove back to my hotel and took a nap.
Since it was Halloween night, and I was by myself, I decided to go to a Country Dance Club. I thought it would be nice to socialize with actual humans, drink a beer or two, and maybe even get some swing dancing in!
When I got there, the guy checking IDs at the door almost didn't let me in. It went something like this:
Him: *takes my card, flips it over, rubs his finger over it like he's trying to rub something off of it, tilts it back and forth in the light*
Me: It's not a fake.
Him: *silently fiddling with my card*
Me: Do I not look like I'm 21?
Him: *still fiddling with my card* It's not that. It just looks weird.
Me: Because I'm from Kansas.
Him: *hands it to the guy sitting beside him*
Guy sitting beside him: *looks at it for two seconds* It looks good to me. I'd take it.
Me: *Walks inside and promptly orders a drink just to spite him*
With a drink in my hand, I went and sat at one of the available seats. Since it was Halloween, lots of people were dressed up, but I felt totally exposed. Not because I wasn't wearing a costume, but because I didn't have my cellphone.
It seemed like everyone there was getting on their phones, especially people their by themselves. It didn't seem like anyone was interested in making conversation with someone new. So I sat and watched people mingle and drank my beer. Then I stood, and watched people dance, and drank my beer.
I danced a couple of the group dances, but other than that stayed off the dance floor. Some guy asked me to dance, but midway to the dance floor he ditched me and started making out with some girl dressed as a fairy... I think she must have been a fairy god mother because I definitely dodged a bullet. Then another guy asked me to dance. After one dance, I decided it was time to go back to the hotel.
On the way back to the car, I had a huge spurt of panic: What if something happened in my family and no one could get ahold of me? I didn't tell anyone the hotel I was staying at, I wasn't at the hotel anyway, and no one really had a way of reaching me with my phone off. What if someone called me with their dying breaths and all they got was a voicemail?
I know this sounds ridiculous, but it's what I was thinking. So I turned my phone on, and listened to Ty deliver devastating news about someone in our family. We talked on the phone for a bit, and then we said goodnight. I set my phone on the nightstand, but didn't turn it off.
The next morning, I got up and ate breakfast. The people in the dining room of the hotel were on their computers taking advantage of the free wifi. I sat by myself, enjoyed a breakfast of biscuits, gravy, eggs and sausage, then went back upstairs to pack.
On the drive home I wasn't really sure where I should stop... So I eventually took an interstate exit with a brown sign indicating a dam. Five minutes later I was approaching a great pond creating by a cement damn, surrounded by layers upon layers of multi-colored trees.
I drove up to an overlook and looked out at the damn. I tried to take some pictures of the trees but I couldn't capture how stunning it was in person.
After a few minutes of gazing at my surroundings I found a trail to follow. It looked like not a lot of people took the time to walk it as it was littered with freshly fallen leaves. The only drawback of this was the fact that about every few feet I walked into a spiderweb... My skin is still crawling.
At last I got back to my car and drove closer to the dam. I sat by the water for a little while thinking about life and love... I'll spare you the retelling of my disjointed pondering. :)
Finally, I was on my way home. When I got home, I picked up my phone and texted Ty. He'd had plans to study at the school library, so I asked him when he would be home... and then I waited.
I didn't feel a rush of insight, I didn't feel enlightened, I didn't feel connected. I felt tired and kind of sad. I don't think my life is too dependent on technology; I've done just fine before, spending weeks at Gram's house without cell phone service or internet... What I do feel dependent on is the way I can connect to others using this technology.
I remember my junior year, as a punishment, my parents took away my cell phone. I know this sounds silly, but that was one of the saddest times of my life. None of my friends could call me, and if anyone came up with spontaneous plans over the weekend, I was left out because they'd also cancelled the internet. Maybe last weekend just brought up memories and feelings of that time...
I guess I don't know. But next time I think to myself that people should be reading a book instead of texting or talking on the phone, I'm going to think again that maybe they are forging a meaningful relationship and developing a feeling of connection... after all... Ty and I talked on the phone for the first six months of our relationship, and look how that worked out.
Sunday, November 1, 2015
Why you should be concerned about antibiotic use in your food
Lately the public has turned a very skeptical and accusatory eye toward agriculture, blaming things like pesticides, genetic modifications, growth hormones, and antibiotics for just about every human ailment under the sun.
This reaction is reasonable!
Everyone wants to lead the healthiest and longest life they can, and parents want to feed their children wholesome food and feel good about it. People are right to be concerned about where their food comes from.
Let me first explain what "concerned" means. I went to dictionary.com and looked up the definition of concern. It's an adjective meaning 1) interested or affected, 2) troubled or anxious, or 3) having a connection or involvement; participating. The public should be concerned, as pertains to the first and third definitions. Everyone should be interested in where their food comes from, everyone is affected by how their food is produced, and every person who eats food should be connected and involved in the food production process!
To be effectively "concerned" about where food comes from, it's also imperative to be adequately educated and consider all evidence. Education is an area where both consumers and producers need some improvement.
Here is what you need to know about antibiotics used in food production:
1) Antibiotics are used for "therapeutic" and "sub-therapeutic" purposes.
Therapeutic means the animal is showing signs of being physically ill. Sub-therapeutic usage of antibiotics is preventative. Producers use antibiotics sub-therapeutically when there is a high risk of the animal becoming ill like times when the diet is drastically changed, when the animals are moved to a new location, or during weaning.
2) Using antibiotics can play a role in weight gain.
Logic can tell us that because the animals aren't getting sick and dying, producers prevent weight loss which ultimately leads to continued gains. Also a healthier microbial population in the gut can assist in animal digestion. However, researchers haven't determined exactly how or why some animals treated with different antibiotics gain more weight. Just like humans don't gain weight because they take antibiotics, antibiotics aren't the sole cause of weight gain in meat animals.
3) There are no antibiotics or antibiotic residues in your meat!
When a company says their meet is "antibiotic free" it misleads consumers into believing that meat sold other places does contain antibiotics, which is 100% false! Animals treated with antibiotics must have a "withdrawal period." Basically, there is a certain period of time after the animal has been given an antibiotic in which it cannot be slaughtered. At the end of the withdrawal period, there should be no traces of antibiotics in the meat.
4) Using antibiotics does lead to antibiotic resistance.
Unfortunately using antibiotics does lead to antibiotic resistance. That is how nature works. Producers can slow this process down by only using antibiotics when necessary (to keep an animal healthy) and being sure to follow the instructions.
5) The main cause of antibiotic resistance is misuse of antibiotics in people!
When anyone goes to the doctor to get antibiotics, the risk of antibiotic resistance increases. Sometimes people are given antibiotics for viral infections. Sometimes people take their antibiotics only until they feel better and don't finish the round. One example of this is MDR (multi drug resistant) tuberculosis, which evolved as a result of misuse of antibiotics.
6) Prohibiting the use of antibiotics harms animals.
Animal welfare is important to producers for many reasons. Animals that are treated well, fed well, and medicated properly perform better. To ask someone not to give an antibiotic to a sick animal, or to not give an antibiotic to prevent sickness is animal cruelty.
7) Producers work closely with veterinarians to keep animals healthy.
Veterinarians attend eight years (at least) of schooling. Their professional input is highly valued among producers and their scientific training can help insure healthy animals that later enter the food supply.
8) Using antibiotics doesn't increase the amount of antibiotic resistant bacteria on meat.
Some studies suggest that meat from animals previously treated with antibiotics contains less bacteria that meat from animals not treated with antibiotics. Regardless, all of this bacteria should be eliminated by cooking the meat to the proper temperature.
9) If you want to ensure a safe food supply, get involved.
That doesn't mean posting negative articles on Facebook, or blogging about some poorly performed research that supports your views. It means gathering information from every area (producers, veterinarians, universities, public institutes of health and so forth). It means reading research critically and making sure it was performed well. It means starting a conversation instead of starting a fight. It means only using antibiotics when you absolutely need them and making sure you explicitly follow the instructions.
Restaurant chains like Subway, Chipotle, Panera, and many others are capitalizing on consumer fear and ignorance.
Just like producers, restaurants are trying to make a profit. One example of this is Subway. They came out with a big announcement about going antibiotic free, but later in the fine print, said that antibiotics are okay to use for therapeutic and sub-therapeutic purposes... which is what most producers are already doing.
The point I'm trying to make is this: Your food is safe! The people producing it have to eat too! They care just as much about a safe and healthy food supply as you do. And if you have a question, don't hesitate to ask... but make sure you ask more than one source, and you ask more than once.
Sources
Subway on antibiotics
On challenges of using antibiotics for growth
Antibiotics role in sustaining growth
General information on antibiotic usage
Animals not treated with antibiotics carry more diseases
General information on antibiotic usage 2
I'm not going to pretend to be a professional on this topic, but I did graduate Summa Cum Laude (4.0 GPA) from Kansas State University's College of Agriculture with a degree in Animal Sciences and Industry, emphasis in bioscience/biotechnology. I have been trained to critically read research to determine its veracity. In addition to this, my family members are beef cattle producers. I found the information for this article from the above sources, from personal knowledge gained from raising livestock, and in-class information. If after reading the sources you still disagree with something I wrote or have a question, please send it to me at kelsiestelting@gmail.com. I would love to answer your questions, or direct you to a professional who can.
This reaction is reasonable!
Everyone wants to lead the healthiest and longest life they can, and parents want to feed their children wholesome food and feel good about it. People are right to be concerned about where their food comes from.
Let me first explain what "concerned" means. I went to dictionary.com and looked up the definition of concern. It's an adjective meaning 1) interested or affected, 2) troubled or anxious, or 3) having a connection or involvement; participating. The public should be concerned, as pertains to the first and third definitions. Everyone should be interested in where their food comes from, everyone is affected by how their food is produced, and every person who eats food should be connected and involved in the food production process!
To be effectively "concerned" about where food comes from, it's also imperative to be adequately educated and consider all evidence. Education is an area where both consumers and producers need some improvement.
Here is what you need to know about antibiotics used in food production:
1) Antibiotics are used for "therapeutic" and "sub-therapeutic" purposes.
Therapeutic means the animal is showing signs of being physically ill. Sub-therapeutic usage of antibiotics is preventative. Producers use antibiotics sub-therapeutically when there is a high risk of the animal becoming ill like times when the diet is drastically changed, when the animals are moved to a new location, or during weaning.
2) Using antibiotics can play a role in weight gain.
Logic can tell us that because the animals aren't getting sick and dying, producers prevent weight loss which ultimately leads to continued gains. Also a healthier microbial population in the gut can assist in animal digestion. However, researchers haven't determined exactly how or why some animals treated with different antibiotics gain more weight. Just like humans don't gain weight because they take antibiotics, antibiotics aren't the sole cause of weight gain in meat animals.
3) There are no antibiotics or antibiotic residues in your meat!
When a company says their meet is "antibiotic free" it misleads consumers into believing that meat sold other places does contain antibiotics, which is 100% false! Animals treated with antibiotics must have a "withdrawal period." Basically, there is a certain period of time after the animal has been given an antibiotic in which it cannot be slaughtered. At the end of the withdrawal period, there should be no traces of antibiotics in the meat.
4) Using antibiotics does lead to antibiotic resistance.
Unfortunately using antibiotics does lead to antibiotic resistance. That is how nature works. Producers can slow this process down by only using antibiotics when necessary (to keep an animal healthy) and being sure to follow the instructions.
5) The main cause of antibiotic resistance is misuse of antibiotics in people!
When anyone goes to the doctor to get antibiotics, the risk of antibiotic resistance increases. Sometimes people are given antibiotics for viral infections. Sometimes people take their antibiotics only until they feel better and don't finish the round. One example of this is MDR (multi drug resistant) tuberculosis, which evolved as a result of misuse of antibiotics.
6) Prohibiting the use of antibiotics harms animals.
Animal welfare is important to producers for many reasons. Animals that are treated well, fed well, and medicated properly perform better. To ask someone not to give an antibiotic to a sick animal, or to not give an antibiotic to prevent sickness is animal cruelty.
7) Producers work closely with veterinarians to keep animals healthy.
Veterinarians attend eight years (at least) of schooling. Their professional input is highly valued among producers and their scientific training can help insure healthy animals that later enter the food supply.
8) Using antibiotics doesn't increase the amount of antibiotic resistant bacteria on meat.
Some studies suggest that meat from animals previously treated with antibiotics contains less bacteria that meat from animals not treated with antibiotics. Regardless, all of this bacteria should be eliminated by cooking the meat to the proper temperature.
9) If you want to ensure a safe food supply, get involved.
That doesn't mean posting negative articles on Facebook, or blogging about some poorly performed research that supports your views. It means gathering information from every area (producers, veterinarians, universities, public institutes of health and so forth). It means reading research critically and making sure it was performed well. It means starting a conversation instead of starting a fight. It means only using antibiotics when you absolutely need them and making sure you explicitly follow the instructions.
Restaurant chains like Subway, Chipotle, Panera, and many others are capitalizing on consumer fear and ignorance.
Just like producers, restaurants are trying to make a profit. One example of this is Subway. They came out with a big announcement about going antibiotic free, but later in the fine print, said that antibiotics are okay to use for therapeutic and sub-therapeutic purposes... which is what most producers are already doing.
The point I'm trying to make is this: Your food is safe! The people producing it have to eat too! They care just as much about a safe and healthy food supply as you do. And if you have a question, don't hesitate to ask... but make sure you ask more than one source, and you ask more than once.
Sources
Subway on antibiotics
On challenges of using antibiotics for growth
Antibiotics role in sustaining growth
General information on antibiotic usage
Animals not treated with antibiotics carry more diseases
General information on antibiotic usage 2
I'm not going to pretend to be a professional on this topic, but I did graduate Summa Cum Laude (4.0 GPA) from Kansas State University's College of Agriculture with a degree in Animal Sciences and Industry, emphasis in bioscience/biotechnology. I have been trained to critically read research to determine its veracity. In addition to this, my family members are beef cattle producers. I found the information for this article from the above sources, from personal knowledge gained from raising livestock, and in-class information. If after reading the sources you still disagree with something I wrote or have a question, please send it to me at kelsiestelting@gmail.com. I would love to answer your questions, or direct you to a professional who can.
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