Category Archives: About me

My Future of Ag

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Recently I wrote a blog for a contest. I wasn’t sure if I should, but the topic was one that hit so close to home that I couldn’t help myself. As I sat to type, it was if the words were already there…I just had to put them on paper.

You can read the post here (and vote for it, of course!), on the Alltech page.

I won’t reprint the whole thing here, but I don’t think the topic will surprise anyone. It’s about my boys. And they’re the whole reason I started this journey.

You see, about 2 years ago I attended a conference hosted by the AgChat Foundation. (AgChat and the foundation are celebrating their 3rd and 2nd birthdays…Happy Birthday to them!) Side note: AgChat is an event that occurs on Twitter on Tuesday nights from 7-9 p.m. CST…it’s a great time for consumers and producers to connect and to learn from each other.

At the conference in Chicago, I participated in a round-table discussion, where you could ask any questions you wanted from different people with experience in different areas. I sat at a table with a woman who was soon to become a fast friend in real life, not just online.

She was answering questions about blogs…and I had a bunch! I wasn’t sure if blogging would be for me, but I wanted to give it a shot. I just didn’t know if I had enough of a story to tell, or if it would be of interest to anyone, or if it was different enough to make a difference.

I felt a little bad about monopolizing a little block of her time, but I was hungry to know more. And she was willing to fill me in.

And so it began.

A few weeks later, in September of 2010, Wag’n Tales was born…and the rest, as they say, is history.

Happy Birthday, AgChat! Happy Birthday, AgChat Foundation! And thank you, Janice, for giving me a push (OK, more like a two-handed shove!) into blogging. Your encouragement and support has meant the world to me.

The blessings of social media

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I regularly hear people talking about the amount of time that is wasted on social media. When people ask what I do, and I tell them that I blog about our farm and our family, it’s almost as if I just told them I’m a stay-at-home mom…oh, wait…

"George" and I...towards the beginning of this journey. It's amazing the changes that have been made, to both of us.

My point is, that neither my chosen profession nor my hobby gets much respect in the real world. (You can decided which is which.) That doesn’t bother me, and for the most part, I ignore it…but last night it became very clear to me that all of my work and time “wasted” has not been in vain.

For those that have been following along a little while, you know that our youngest son, “George” on the blog, has been diagnosed with OTC. (You can read more about it on the OTC tab above.) It’s been a very crazy ride, but we’re feeling our way through, and have seen some amazing results in the last year.

But that doesn’t mean that we haven’t had problems, or that there were times when I wasn’t really sure who to turn to for answers, venting, etc.

And then I received an email. And not just any email, an email from the Executive Director of the National Urea Cycle Disorder Foundation, which just so happens to be the link I use in my blog posts describing OTC. Yeah, that’s big.

I think back to that meeting in August, almost two years ago, where I finally met JP in person. There was a round-table session where you could just sit and ask different people questions relating to social media. I sat at her table and asked if she thought that my story was worth telling (we had been “connected” through Twitter). I thought that my connections through Twitter and facebook were probably enough, maybe a blog would be too much, and maybe I didn’t have anything to really share.

With her encouragement, I started Wag’n Tales in September of 2010…and the rest, as they say, is history.

And I’m not the only one that Janice has positively influenced through social media. Just check out her latest blog post and see.

Yes, social media can take away time. It can be used for evil and wrong-doing. But when it’s used in a positive way, it can truly be life-changing…

In fact, it can be life saving.

A little farmer romance

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After a very long week, most people wind down with a date night with their significant other. Well, I’m still waiting for Valentine’s Day supper, but that’s nothing new. And truly, I don’t mind…that much, except when the weeks have been long ones. And this has definitely been a long one.

Since I won’t be heading out on a date night with the hubby any time soon, I thought I’d go through a flashback of some of our greatest date moments…well, at least they were memorable.

1) I do believe Boss Man holds the record for latest date ever…and it was one of our first. We were supposed to go to a movie, but I was stood up. He called me 9 hours late. Apparently he got his pickup hung up on an old house foundation in the pasture, and this was in pre-cell phone days. He ended up walking quite a distance, and then was home so late he figured it didn’t pay to call me. Because I wasn’t up waiting by the phone, wondering where he was? Right. So I can’t complain too loudly about his tendencies to run late. I’ve known from the beginning.

2) He surprised me for lunch once (and yes, I think it only happened once), when I worked in town. We took his “farm” pickup to the local drive-inn and had a great meal, and a much-appreciated break from the work day. When it was time to leave, the pickup wouldn’t start. Apparently a bolt had come loose underneath, and needed to be tightened…and he knew all this because it happened on a somewhat-regular basis. A few seconds under the truck, and we were on our way. And yes, this was before we were married. And although that pickup isn’t used any more, it’s still a great memory when I see it.

3) I vividly remember the day we went to pick up our marriage license, and the tuxedos for the wedding. In true farmer-fashion, Boss Man decided that we should kill three birds with one stone and return the manure-spreader he had rented, while running the other errands. The only problem? The manure-spreader was the furthest away, meaning that we took care of the other “things” while pulling the spreader. Our local courthouse was full of giggles, and the bridal shop attendant looked like he was going to pass out when I placed the tuxes in the back seat of Mark’s extended cab pickup. They did tell us it was the first time any type of farm equipment had pulled up in front of the shop.

Our dating life and our married life have been much the same. It’s been such a wild ride, but the laughs and the giggles make it all worth while.

And one last memory before this Friday is over. The day we were married, Boss Man showed up late for pictures. He said, “Well, I figured you could take a bunch of pictures that you didn’t need me for.” I understand the logic, but it didn’t make me any less nervous!

Then, the last picture before we walked down the aisle, a romantic shot of us behind the church, me and my cathedral-length train (what was I thinking?) and Boss Man. The photographer suggested that he dip me, and give me a kiss. How romantic! Unfortunately, dipping was not a move that we had discussed, nor practiced…and, well, see for yourself:

That's right...he dropped me.

I was most concerned about grass stains on my dress. This would be another reason not to take photos before the wedding.

Just sayin’.

Needless to say, the last decade-plus has been one interesting moment after another. I sometimes say that I wish we lived a normal life, but I’m pretty sure that’s not true. How boring would that be?

I’m a hypocrite

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I’ve been up a lot the last few nights. We head to Mayo in a few weeks again. This time it’s for lots and lots of testing…developmental testing. George will be the big 3 in April, and that’s when he graduates from Infant Development into a school-district led program (if he qualifies and we decide to go down that route).

Guess who's going to be the big 3 in April?

So why am I a hypocrite? Trust me. I didn’t come to that conclusion easily. And it’s not something I enjoy admitting, but I think it’s true. You see…I’ve been so busy planning for George’s future, that I forgot to let him live today.

Let me explain.

George doesn’t handle illness well. He dehydrates quickly and goes down hill fast. You can ask our speech therapist who was here last week when he became sick. He went from fine and playing to physically ill and very little response in a matter of minutes. By the end of the week, we were in the hospital. The culprit? Strep.

You can't see me!

There I am!

Which is funny, because we had his tonsils and adenoids removed in August to try to help with limiting his strep infections. We’ve had 3 positive strep tests since. I shudder to think what it would have been like without the surgery though.

So, now what.

We need to start making decisions. Like, do we send him to preschool? Are we going to send him to school? Continue speech therapy in a school setting? And I became so wrapped up in planning out his future, that I forgot about today.

He’s a little boy, and little boys want to play, and get muddy and make a mess. They don’t worry about developmental scores, school choices and speech therapy. They want to play with the calves, tease the puppy and make their brothers miserable.

I spent so much time reading about what could happen, that I missed what was happening.

I can’t promise that I won’t spend any more late-nights with tears in my eyes as I watch George sleep. I can’t promise that I won’t go into overprotective mother-hen mode again. But I can promise that I’ll try to let go of my planning tendencies and embrace today for what it is…another day with my children.

No, I can’t forget what the statistics tell me, I can’t pretend that there are not times when George is truly in danger…but I can’t forget that a life without living is hardly a life at all.

I’ve read the statistics, but I forgot one thing…God hasn’t finished writing George’s story yet. And those are the only statistics that matter.

The Beauty of the Internet

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Lately I’ve been swamped with posts and shares of information that seems mind-boggling to me. I try to tread lightly when it comes to published reports. I do my research, weigh the pros and cons and look at both sides, for the most part.

So, I’ve come up with my own personal list of things I look for when reading online information. Perhaps it will help, perhaps you think it’s hogwash…but the beauty of it all is that you get to decide on your own. And that’s a powerful tool to remember.

So here it is: How to Skim the Scum

1) Artwork – Not all sites that use artwork are full of beans, but generally speaking, if you need to paint up people as zombies and throw around Mr. Yuck stickers like they’re confetti, chances are your information isn’t necessarily scientifically true. If you’re claiming that some company is poisoning the world, and feel the need to post doctored photos, then I doubt your claims are fact-based. Emotion is a strong marketing tool, I get that. But I’d rather hear the facts and make my own decisions, thank you.

2) Don’t stat me to death – I am confident that by this day and age, there has been a study completed on just about everything. And you can find a report somewhere, paid by someone, that will prove just about everything. The key is to balance it all out. Find out what matters to you, check out reputable sources (not just what’s posted on Facebook) and make an educated decision. That means looking at the other side, not just discrediting it from the get-go.

3) Search your engine – The mystery of the search engine. It’s amazing, isn’t it? You type in anything, and the instant you hit enter, tons of information pops up. But it’s a lot to wade through…and not many people are selective in their retrieval of information. In fact, few people make it past the first page of results. But Google, or Bing, or wherever you get your search results from does not authenticate its sources, it simply provides them. Remember that.

4) You must read this now or you will die – I remember in school, one of the keys to test-taking was, “If they use the word ‘always,’ ‘never,’ ‘must,’ etc. chances are that’s not the correct answer.” Very few things in this world “always” happen. That’s the beauty of nature. Although fire and brimstone do well to sell print, and make for entertaining reads, the truth is usually somewhere complacently in the middle. And how boring is that?

5) It’s personal – Remember what you’re reading. And where it’s coming from. Is it a company blog, or a personal one? Are you reading one person’s story, or a generalization of operations at whole? If you feel compelled to comment, relate in the same way. You cannot put out a fire with gasoline, but you sure can make the sky light up! I’m sure you can think of a few recent social media nightmares that some big names have gone through.

All in all, just remember that the internet really truly is a powerful tool…and it puts facts and figures and statistics at our fingertips. But it puts it ALL there.

Thankful Thursday – Peek-a-boo

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Today is Groundhog’s Day…and my hubby’s birthday. Apparently Pux-a-how-ever-you-spell-it Phil saw his shadow and we’re supposed to have six more weeks of winter. Well, it’s Feb. 2 and it’s almost 40 degrees here in North Dakota. If this is winter, then I’ll take six more weeks of it.

That being said, I just wrapped up a planning meeting for George’s future. He’s involved in the infant-development program, and as wonderful as the program is, he’s not going to be a toddle much longer. It’s amazing to see how much he’s grown in the last year…and I’m not sure I’m ready for our next steps, but they’re coming anyway.

So today I’m simply thankful for the simple things…like a game of peek-a-boo. Who wouldn’t be?

Peek...

 

...a-boo!

 
 

A Tribute

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My phone rang before 6 Saturday morning. I don’t know how it works in your house, but a call after 11 or before 7 is rarely ever good news at ours.

And it wasn’t.

At the young age of 69, Kenneth Lee Brandenburger passed away from complications with cancer. He was an amazing man. He was my dad’s best friend and brother. He was my uncle.

I want to write about how unfair cancer can be…how it doesn’t discriminate based on those that live life to the fullest and those that just go along for the ride. I’d love to write about how unfair this is…but I won’t. We all know that.

But what you may not know, is just how special Kenny was.

Growing up so close to Grandma, I heard a LOT of stories about how much of a handful KennethLee was. You see, that’s how Grandma would say his name, “KennthLee.” I’m assuming that it was just habit, from yelling it so much when he was little. At least that’s my theory.

Uncle Kenny wasn't afraid to be a big kid, like showing Scooter how to play Ladder Ball.

 

My uncle decided at a young age that school was not his strong suit. Instead, working hard and working toward a goal definitely was…and he succeeded. He worked hard, played hard, and made the most of everything. But what I remember the most about Kenny was his quiet demeanor, but easy ways. And he wasn’t only my dad’s brother, he was my dad’s best friend.

In the last few years, Uncle Kenny looked so much like my Grandpa that it took my breath away. Being around him made me feel connected to Grandpa in ways that I had missed so much. He had Grandpa’s easy demeanor and quick smile…but he wasn’t completely like Grandpa.

No, Uncle Kenny definitely had a healthy dose of Grandma Vivian in him. He had a zest for life and enjoyed a good laugh. And he had a feisty streak as well.

I only got to see Uncle Kenny about twice a year, deer hunting and ice fishing. But it was always a great time.

We had a routine down…he’d arrive, I’d ask him to site in my gun (which is one that he picked out, by the way), he’d give me grief about it not making a difference because I wouldn’t hit anything anyway and so on.

Yet, when I would shoot my deer, him and Dad would come and help me dress it out. It was just our routine.

I remember when I had shot the buck that I now have mounted, I needed help because my gun had jammed and the deer was injured, but not dead. Uncle Kenny and my Dad came out and helped put the deer down. After giving me grief about nothing being wrong with my gun, I asked if they thought it was worth having mounted. Kenny simply looked at me and said I did a good job, and even he would have it mounted, if it were his.

Uncle Kenny, in the background, next to the buck I have mounted.

 

That may not seem like much, but for our upper-Midwest, German background, that was sometimes as close to a pat on the back as you would get.

And the memory that I hold most dear, when I was going through one of the roughest times of my life, my Uncle Kenny was a rock. When I couldn’t understand what was going on, or why things were happening the way they were, he kindly told me that I couldn’t change other people. He would call me and talk about things, and make sure that I understood that he was there, in a quiet, understated way. And I will be forever grateful to him for that.

I will travel to Wisconsin tomorrow to say goodbye to one of the greatest men I ever had the privilege of meeting. And as much as I look forward to visiting with family and friends, and reminiscing and sharing, my heart breaks trying to make sense of it all.

This much I know, Grandma and Grandpa Brandenburger are the lucky ones today…KennethLee is reunited with them, along with his sister, Vicki, and so many other family and friends. And as much as I miss them all, and my heart hurts so much, I can’t help but feel…well, just a little bit jealous.

I love you, Kenny.

A great man...dearly loved and sorely missed.

 

The Unknown Christmas Gift

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It seems like Christmas was ages ago, although a full month hasn’t even passed yet. The weeks before and after were so filled with activities and birthdays and trips and doctor’s appointments and all things crazy, that I didn’t even have time to digest it all.

Scooter and Big Bro, reading together. Scooter celebrated his 8th birthday New Year's Eve...EJ turned 5 Jan. 12. It's been a busy birthday/Christmas/holiday/vacation time!

 

But that’s usually when the really good stuff happens, and you don’t even know about it until later.

At least, that’s the way it works in my life.

The week before Christmas, I took my mom to Fargo for an eye appointment. Since we were already in town, we stayed up for a special Christmas party for children with special health concerns. It was George’s first time ever meeting Santa, and he was so enthralled with the big bushy-haired man. (I actually think he thought it was his dad!)

It didn’t dawn on me until after Christmas break was just about done that I had forgotten to send a Christmas gift to school with the boys for their teachers. When it hit me, I apologized to the boys immediately and promised to send them back to school with something for each teacher.

They told me not to worry about it…they had it covered.

They knew I was busy, and the day that I was gone to Fargo, they each took a book from the book orders that we placed and gave them to their teachers. Not only a gift to the teacher, but a gift to the whole class as well.

I tried to pretend that I wasn’t moved to tears, and thanked them both for being so thoughtful.

Sometimes I worry about raising boys in these times. Sometimes I worry that I’m not doing a good job, or that I’m doing something wrong.

But then sometimes I wonder how I became such a lucky mother, to have not one, but four amazing children gifted to me by God.

The power of one

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Yikes. Here is is, January 16, and I’m submitting my first post for 2012. Apparently the craziness of the season got ahead of me, and life snowballed. Hard to imagine, right?

I received a wake-up call today. It was kind of like God tapping me on the shoulder and reminding me why I write. It was a reminder of the power of one.

In case you haven’t heard about it, a mother of a child with developmental delays was “supposedly” told that her daughter would not qualify for a life-saving kidney transplant due to her “mental retardation.” (I’m using quotes, because the hospital has stayed mum on the issue, and although I don’t for one minute doubt the mother’s account of what happened, my journalistic instincts are to leave the guilty/not-guilty part up to the parties involved.)

And that’s where the power of one comes in.

To tell you the truth, I’m pretty sure if that was my situation, I would be facing criminal charges for pummeling a physician. But that’s just me. And then I would have done exactly what this mother did…I would have wrote about it.

She wasn’t expecting it to go viral. She wasn’t expecting the public outcry to almost shut down the hospital’s facebook page. She wasn’t expecting the attention. She was just getting the thoughts and information presented to them off her chest, wrote down somewhere where she could analyze them, and share with others going through similar situations. She wasn’t expecting any of this…but I would have.

You see, I understand completely the power of one. All it takes is one word, one sentence, one blog…and you can make a difference in the world.

And by doing so, this mother may have very well saved her child’s life. And children for generations to come.

All it took was one.

(If you’re interested in the original blog post, follow this link…but warning, it’s likely to tick you off.)

Dressed to the nines

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It was a weekend to remember…and an amazing Saturday at that!

Boss Man and I went to the Inaugural Stockmen’s Foundation Ball, and even though the day started out rough, Saturday ended spectacularly!

But let me start with the pre-story story. I realized that Boss Man didn’t have the right “tools” in his closet for a formal event. Although I know that he could get by with the different shirts we had at home, I was out and about and thought I would get him one that…well, to be truthful, I thought I would get him one that fit. As in buttoned at the top.

I had never been to a Men’s Warehouse, so I decided to stop and see what they had. I had an “interesting” experience to say the least. I knew when I walked in that the gentleman helping me wasn’t going to see things my way. But I gave him a chance. He asked if he could help me, and I told him that I was looking for a shirt that would work well with a white and black dress for a formal event. He asked the size, and I gave him my best guesstimate. (Have you ever tried to get a man to leave the farm early enough to be “fitted” for a shirt? He keeps giving me the measurements from our wedding…and trust me, those don’t work so well any more.)

The man handed me a plain white packaged dress shirt, with off-white-ish buttons. I asked if he happened to have anything more “western.” He stared at me as if I had grown a second head. He asked what I meant, and I told him that my husband happened to prefer his dress shirts to snap up the front, instead of button. I must have made a major faux pas there, because he kind of sniffled, and proceeded to tell me that, “buttons are what makes a shirt formal. Not snaps.”

Hmmm…I don’t know if I agree with that. I mean, I’ve seen George Strait looking mighty fine at plenty of red carpet events. And I do believe that some of those shirts had snaps on them. Although, I must confess that I sometimes get distracted looking at George Strait and don’t always pay attention to his shirt closures. Same goes for Kenny Chesney, Trace Adkins, Jason Aldean, Tim McGraw…ummm…what was it I was talking about again? Sorry, got a bit distracted there.

Anyway, my point is that western wear can look just as formal and nice as a regular suit. So I put the gentleman’s suggested starched shirt back and headed to RCC, where I should have just started. I found a great western shirt that looked spectacular, including the pearl snaps on the front.

We went to our ball, we danced, we visited with friends (old and new) and we had an amazing time. And didn’t look too bad either.

Cleaned up and off the farm...hardly recognize us!

On a sad note: last week Monday I asked for prayers for my mom’s best friend, Darlene, who was in desperate need of a liver transplant. I ask that you now keep Darlene’s family in your prayers, as she passed on last evening. The heavens have indeed gained a beautiful angel…and one that my grandma certainly greeted with open arms!