Happy Fall, Y’All

 Now that we’re a week into autumn, I’m beginning to get the seasonal spirit. Today I saw the grain truck go into the cornfield across the road. It brings back memories of my “ride-along” with Ivan several years ago in our cornfield.

My soybeans have taken on a golden hue. Early mornings on the farm offer a preview of autumn although mid-day seems more like the sweaty time of summer.

This has been a year of learning for Farmer Grandma. Thank goodness for Harold’s cousins and their years of experience and expertise. They plant the crops and harvest them. My job is to buy the seed and fertilizer and sell the grain. Simple? Oh, yeah, there’s also crop insurance, filling out forms for FSA, setting up the farm account, monitoring grain prices, praying for rain (but not flooding in the bottomland), and updating Quickbooks. For the past ten years, Harold has prepared me for the day when it would be my job to manage the farm. His confidence in me bolstered my confidence in myself. 

I once knew a guy who often said, “You can take the boy out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the boy.” The same goes for girls. When you are raised country, living in town may not set well with your soul. At least that’s been my story.

When Jim first traveled the long and winding road to my house, he said, “You live so far back in the sticks that they need to pipe in sunshine.”

Unlike Jim, I grew up in one home. His family traveled across country on a spur of the moment whim. He lived in several homes in multiple states throughout his youth.

After Jim and I married, we lived in four different towns. We lived in Manhattan, Kansas while he was stationed at Fort Riley. We moved to Redmond, Oregon, because Jim was homesick for Oregon until he became more homesick for Missouri. I was not happy in Sedalia for reasons too numerous to mention. The last town we lived in was Versailles, Missouri, where at that time, grocery stores closed so early that by the time I needed something, I was out of luck.

These towns weren’t big, but they all had other people living within spitting distance. To Jim’s credit, he didn’t like town life anymore than I did. Once we moved to the country, we both agreed that we were never moving to town again. Rural life is for me and here I’ll stay, unless someday I’m hauled kicking and screaming to a nursing home.

I’m looking forward to the days of autumn when the weather has that slight chill that makes a flannel shirt feel just right. I want to sit on my wrought iron chair, drink a cup of hot coffee, and watch the Ream brothers harvest my soybeans.

I want to enjoy the wildflowers that pop up in the road ditches, and along the edges of the yard. I want to watch the trees turn to vibrant colors of orange, golden yellow, red, or copper. Some years are more spectacular that others, but the colors of autumn are nature’s last hurrah.

When we lived in drafty houses, I spent too much of autumn dreading winter. Now, I savor the season. I guess if you compared life to the seasons, I’m in the winter of my life, but I haven’t forgotten autumn when I was younger and, most likely, more colorful.

The important thing with the seasons—just like life—is that time passes too swiftly. If we close our eyes to the beauty around us, it will be gone, and be replaced with a different scene.

Now, autumn is just beginning. We are in baby autumn, waiting for it to mature and become the pumpkin spice of a full-fledged season. I’m no longer a country “girl” but I appreciate the beauty of God’s brushstrokes with the eyes of the girl that once was.

 

Copyright © September 2025 by L. S. Fisher

http://earlyonset.blogspot.com

#ENDALZ

Inside Out

 

First impressions matter. This is the advice we give to people who are job hunting, since a potential employer will size you up in the first seven seconds, or less, of meeting you. In addition to visual impressions, body language, and the tone of a person’s voice present a rapid subconscious evaluation of a prospective employee.

We also want to impress people that interest us romantically. Most of us are skeptical of love at first sight, but it does have a scientific basis. Along with the brain’s positive first impression, a chemical surge can cement the attraction.

The day I met Jim, was a textbook example of love at first sight, and what made it magical was the feelings were mutual. Of course, neither of us was crazy enough to admit it at that moment. Jim told me later that he was supposed to leave for Oregon the next morning, but after he met me, he cancelled the trip.

 Infatuation doesn’t always lead to enduring love. Sometimes the outside attraction doesn’t translate to inside attachment. In our case, our personalities clicked and love at first sight became a forever after.  

In life, one of the greatest mysteries is how the human body and brain gel into relationships. Romantic love may happen quickly, or it may grow from a slow realization that someone you have known for years has won a special place in your heart. No matter how it begins, love forms from the inside out.

No one has a happily ever after in real life, and love will be tested often in a long-term commitment. Finances, emotions, communication, trust, or a combination of circumstances can jeopardize the stability of a relationship.

One of the frequent issues, especially among older adults, is health. When the health of one person fails, another may be thrust into a caregiving role. Any serious health condition has a different set of problems.

When a spouse develops dementia, reciprocal love turns into unconditional love. A person with dementia may become incapable of expressing love outwardly, although they may have a strong emotional attachment inside.

It is important to express your love and show tenderness even if your loved one is nonverbal. After each visit at the nursing home, I would kiss Jim goodbye and say, “I love you.”

Jim had aphasia and rarely spoke, but one night he emphatically said, “I love you too.”

Jim spent the last five years of his life in the nursing home. When I read the Indelible manuscript, I realize those five years were an emotional rollercoaster. I went through all the stages of grief time after time, but I adjusted, and life assumed a different norm.

I think the most important lesson I learned was to make the most of each day. Even the bad days, or sad days, became precious memories. In the darkest times, I was grateful for the love of family and friends.

Philosophies of the best way to attain a fulfilling life are numerous and different for each individual human alive. While I walk this earth, I want to live life to the fullest and find inner peace to reconcile my emotions to the outward turmoil that disrupts my life from time to time.

 

Copyright © September 2025 by L. S. Fisher

http://earlyonset.blogspot.com

#ENDALZ