Kelly Writing | Your Brand | Your Story

Her Day! Thursday: Joy (My Momma)

The goal for Her Day! Thursday is to, twice a month, showcase women who are doing great, incredible or seemingly normal things in life that make a difference.

My mom gave me life. My mom saved my life.

For our inaugural Her Day! Thursday post. I’ll be highlighting my mom, Joy. She gets the first post because, well, she’s my mom and she’s pretty great.

Nominations will open soon for Her Day! Thursday.

Now, back to my mom.

Of course, she gave me life. According to her, I was born during the hottest summer on record. I used to think this was a giant exaggeration on her part until one summer the local TV meteorologist announced the heat record was indeed reached the summer I was born. Exasperating her misery in the heat that year, I was born a full 2 weeks past the due date. Amidst the heat and discomfort and just praying I would be born already, she knew that something was wrong.

This was back in the day before routine ultrasounds. While in labor (finally) she told the doctor about her uneasiness and instinct that something was just not right. He just patted her hand and told her to calm her hysteria, there was nothing for her to worry about, he would take care of it all. Somehow seeing past this gross and outward display of ego, my mom stuck to her instincts and training as a nurse, refusing any type of anti-pain medication or epidural. She saw this as her only avenue to keep her baby safe.

She was right. I was born in a frank breech position. In other words, y’all, I was born butt first. It was a very hard delivery for my mom. It was a very dangerous delivery for me, her baby. However, through her toughness, bravery, sheer stubborn determination and confidence in her instincts, we both survived.

Fast forward 26-ish years. I had a very difficult and dangerous first pregnancy. My mom worked as a Registered Nurse, with more than 35 years of experience, at my OB/GYN‘s office. Worried about my condition, she began to monitor me daily. Truthfully, I was annoyed. I thought what I was experiencing was normal, pregnant lady uncomfortableness but my mother wouldn’t get off my case.

As usual, though, momma was right. I was diagnosed with Preeclampsia and HELLP Syndrome. My health took a turn for the worse one day evidenced by my dangerously high blood pressure. She wanted me to go to work with her that morning to see my doctor immediately. I, however, did not want to go. I had an appointment at 1:00 that afternoon. I thought I would be fine until then. She used the, “I’m your mother tone” so, I went with her begrudgingly.

Upon arrival at the doctor’s office, I was immediately sent by ambulance to a larger hospital. There, I was given life-saving treatments for me and our baby. If it hadn‘t been for my mom’s persistence, I would have waited until my scheduled appointment to seek help. By then, it probably would’ve been too late. (More about our Preeclampsia survival story in a later post.)

In the years between those dramatic birth experiences, Joy worked full time as a nurse. I can not count the people in my life who have shared stories of her giving them shots, swabbing their throats for strep, or keeping them calm during a visit to the doctor. Through all this, she never missed an athletic event or cattle show, sang songs, told stories, taught me how to make biscuits, refereed countless fights between me and my older sister, cared for her aging father, served on the PTA, was our scout leader, a volunteer for our 4-H club, lead Sunday School, served as president of the church women’s group and did the million other tasks moms do that nobody knows about and for which they are never given thanks.

As a Granny now, she makes paper hats, sings the same silly songs I remember learning as a kid, cooks breakfast for the grandkids on Thursday mornings, hosts Sunday Supper every Sunday, sits in back-breaking bleachers at the grandkids athletic events and is fiercely protective of her babies. Something she already proved during that ridiculously hot summer.

My mom gave me life. My mom saved my life. Today is Her Day! Thursday.

You Might Be a Farm & Ranch Couple If…

You Might Be a Farm & Ranch Couple If…

12. She rolls her eyes when he excitedly shows her another new ball cap with the logo of a farm, co-op, farm equipment brand, or breed association.

11. You both know that all plans including family gatherings, cookouts, festivals and birthday parties depend on the weather.

My farmer and I grew up showing cattle together. This is us during a very rainy outdoor show in the 1990s before we were a couple. Note the obsession with farm logo ball caps was already strong.

10. “I’ll buy you lunch” means some type of task involving mud or manure, probably both. You’re also going to the feed store, the parts store or the vet office. There will, eventually, be lunch. Also known as, “Ride to Town with me.”

9. He knows when she goes to the Livestock Market alone she will come home with a baby calf, goat, lamb, rabbit or some other form of small animal. Probably hauled in the back of her SUV.

8. When he says, “Honey, come check fence/cattle with me,” that’s really code for, “Honey, come open gates for me.”

7. Your gifts to each other tend to be tools of the trade: mud boots, coveralls, equipment, parts, animals. You’re happy because those are the best gifts.

6. Your romantic vacations are usually livestock shows, farm shows, machinery shows, horse shows or cattleman conventions.

*Family vacay 2019: AJSA National Classic*

5. You planned your wedding, vacation, engagement party, or some other significant event – possibly the birth of your children – around haymaking, planting, harvest, cattle working, etc.

4. While she was in labor, giving birth to his human child, he made some comment about calving, foaling, lambing or farrowing. Such as asking the doctor, “You want me to go get the chains?”

3. Many date nights have consisted of hauling cattle, nursing fresh-born livestock or a job involving riding together in the tractor.

*Hauling hay in together. Those tractor dates do have some pretty fantastic views.*

2. She doesn’t fall for his myth of, “It will only take five minutes.” She knows this task will be at least an hour, probably more.

1. People might question your love for each other if they heard your colorful exchanges while working cattle or fixing busted equipment. People might…but you never do.

Get updates from Kelly Writing. Never miss new content!

Farmer’s Wedding Vows

Picture of a Picture. Me and My Farmer on our wedding day on a beautiful day in May in the early 2000’s. Before the beard and the kids.
We HAD already worked plenty of cattle together.
Photo Credit: Betty Moser

Husband to His Wife

I take you to farm beside me,

as you open gates and bottle feed orphan calves from this day forward,

during floods and good hay-making weather,

when the cattle market is high and when the futures drop,

when you forget to close the gate and when you keep the farm going when I’m gone.

I promise to love you . Even when we’re working cattle.

Wife to Her Husband

I take you to farm beside me,

as you feed in the cold and work on busted equipment from this day forward,

when I lose my favorite calf and when you stay up all night with me trying to save him,

when we sell cattle in the Fall and when I sign below your name for a new (to us) tractor,

when you accuse me of forgetting to close the gate and when we cook supper after dark.

I promise to love you. Even when we’re working cattle.

This picture is available for purchase as a downloadable file, without watermarks.

Grandpa’s Heavenly Joy

Sarah hired me to help her with a Christmas gift for her parents, brothers and sisters-in-law, nieces and nephews. Her grandpa passed away the previous December. The gift would be a remembrance of him. She wanted to showcase his apple orchard, his work ethic, his love for neighbors and family. She provided me with some stories as well as pictures of items that were important to her grandpa and the family. I created a written piece. I also created a download that Sarah printed, framed and gave to her family as a gift to remember the man they all admired and loved.

Grandpa’s Heavenly Joy

He’s there. Quizzing the angels on apple types. The same way he had with the grandkids. Yankee Sweet, Lodi, Virginia Beauty, Maiden’s Blush, Pickled Simon Sweet, all the best heritage varieties. There’s no place more perfect for tree grafting and experimenting than Heaven’s apple orchard.

Heaven is bound to be full of hunters. He’s among them. Telling tall tales and regaling his fellow cherubs with the stories we all remember. His adventures hunting in Giles County with his Winchester 270 hunting rifle. He may even be in charge of target practice.

If Heaven has rocks in fields, he’s picking them up. Making the work easier for the haloed plow hands. He’s sitting in the back of a heavenly pickup truck. Entertaining the ones that are too little to help. Teaching them about hog meat and internal organs.

He’s one of the Lord’s cattle hands. Watching over Heaven’s herd like he did his own on earth. He’s sharing the bounty of his heavenly garden. Showing his love of his neighbors in the fruit, vegetables and friendship that he gives.

That’s the thing about Grandpa. He can rejoice in Heaven as he lived on earth. A faithful servant to God, his family, his farm. If he could, he would look down at the family he created and be proud, be content. See his work, his lessons, his love is in us.

We miss him. We remember him. We love him.

May Grandpa be having a joyful time in Heaven.

Stella & Finns | Slogan

Continuing to work with Stella & Finns Boutique, I helped Courtney revamp her business slogan. She felt that while her old slogan embraced her business, it was too long. She wanted the new slogan to be strong, inviting and to capture her farm girl spirit. Yet she didn’t want the slogan to be too wordy. Kelly Writing helped her create a memorable and strong slogan, describing her business perfectly!

Check out the new Stella & Finns Boutique slogan:

Thanks for trusting me with your words, Courtney!!!

Modern Day Cattleman

He’s got more conveniences than his grandfather would ever dream could exist. Fast-acting medications, equipment that makes his job safer and technology galore.

His horse sometimes walks on four legs and runs on grain. Sometimes it rolls on four wheels and runs on gas or diesel. His tractor has a cab, sunroof, heat, air conditioning, Bluetooth and GPS.

He racks up more cell phone minutes than a teenage girl ever dreamed. Important minutes though, as he talks to his buyers about cattle prices, neighbors about splitting the fencing bill and his buddies about more gossip than a grown man would ever admit.

He may wear his grandfather’s uniform of starched wranglers and cowboy boots. He could just as easily be seen in khaki shorts, a t-shirt and comfy sneakers. Those late night cows-are-out situations may even produce a wardrobe consisting of underwear and mud boots.

He buys cattle online. The same place he sees posts accusing cattlemen of animal cruelty, misusing antibiotics and ruining the environment. He wonders if these folks have ever been on a farm or ranch. Ever seen the cleanliness and precision of a feedlot. If they’ve read the research, if they’ve done their homework. He figures they haven’t. Figures social media and the mainstream news is where most folks get their information. Sad, really, because if they would just sit on the front porch like folks used to and have a conversation with him he could share some knowledge. He could tell them that their food is safer now than ever before. He could tell them how much he loves his job, this way of life; how he’d never do anything to risk it. His grandfather was understood. Consumers back then were empathetic. He realizes that today’s consumer is often times so far removed from agriculture that they truly don’t know what they don’t know. So he’ll be patient. He’ll try to educate. He’ll keep doing his best.

He has a love/hate relationship with bovines. He loves the sweet sounds of cattle munching grass after being turned in on fresh pasture. The ball of newly weaned calves. Loves looking at this year’s calf crop, proud and confident in his breeding decisions. Yet, he hates doctoring those high-headed cattle who try to kill him. He hates losing an animal. First-calf-heifer worries keep him up at night. He hates the unfairness of the cattle market. Hates how quickly live cattle prices can drop just as grocery store beef prices rise. Though his grandfather couldn’t keep up with these changes like the modern day cattleman’s Stock Market cell phone app, it was a worry back then too.

Sure, the internet, social media, field-mapping drones, consumer-confidence, computerized harvest equipment, synchronized heat cycles, embryo transfer, cell phones, barn cameras and countless other modernizations have changed the way a modern day cattleman operates. Yet, some things stay the same…

The modern day cattleman works to feed himself, his family – the world – through the only thing he knows, his true love, his passion – being a Cattleman. His grandfather would be proud.

This writing is available for purchase as a download without watermarks. This writing can also be purchased as a customized piece with a photo of your modern day cattleman.

That Trip to the Store

I didn’t think twice about my attire as I hopped in my car to head to the nearest discount dollar store. The barn kitten had chewed the last nipple on the last baby lamb bottle – cats and milk and that whole story. This was a problem. I needed a dang bottle and not tomorrow when the feed store opened.

Feeding lambs from bottles is not common, but not uncommon, in our flock. Sometimes a momma sheep doesn’t have an adequate milk supply, she rejects her young offspring or the birth brings her fatal consequences. When this happens her lambs must rely on us – the farmer – to supply it’s nutritional needs. Since they are fed sheep milk replacer from a bottle we call them “Bottle Babies.”

None of the aforementioned reasons were the case this time though. The momma was alive, caring for her babies and BoyChild checked to make sure she had milk. She was a first time momma, her lambs were really small and the night was particularly snowy and extremely cold. We wanted to ensure a good, healthy, start for these babies. We felt it was best to leave them with their momma but also provide colostrum supplement. Colostrum is liquid gold to a baby mammal. The first milk provides essential antibodies to fight against disease. It’s important to receive colostrum in the first 24 hours of life. The sooner the better.

Except that darn cat had chewed the last nipple on the last baby lamb bottle.

So off I went in search of cheap baby bottles to use for now in a good-enough-but-life-saving scenario.

Opening the door to trudge into the store was the first thought I had about my attire. Lounge pants under pull-on ski pants shredded at the bottom because they were too long and had been walked on, caught in truck doors and stomped on by various farm animals. A hoodie, circa my late 1990-something high school days, and a winter coat with the logo of a national water trough brand. Hair wadded up in a bun and shoved under a knit hat, and not one of those cute hats where your perfect bun peeks out at the top. No this was my favorite hat, the one with the ear flaps. Functional not fashionable. Accented with clompy rubber winter farm boots making me walk like bricks were tied to my feet. Everything and I mean e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g covered in mud. Overall the outfit was warm but definitely not attractive. I was painfully aware of this as I walked back to the baby aisle trying not to stomp and make a mess in the store. As a mom, a farm mom, I fully understand the unkind thoughts that happen when someone is forced to clean up a mess that is not theirs.

I made my selection of baby bottles – a 3-pack of pink and blue with a farm theme because hey, while I was embarrassed about my looks I wasn’t oblivious to the humorous irony of feeding lambs from a meant-for-humans baby bottle with a fluffy cartoon sheep on it.

I then headed to the check-out counter, on a mission to purchase my goods and get the heck out of there.

Farmer feeding sheep on a snowy winter day.

The sight of the cashier instantly made me feel uncomfortable. Her perfectly applied makeup and styled hair made me even more self conscious about my appearance. She scanned my one package of bottles and stopped as she handed me the bag. I felt my face flush with embarrassment as she looked me up and down.

“Are you out working in this nasty weather?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I began, “We have lambs being born so we’ve been at it most of the day keeping up with them.” I rattled on some more – nervous word vomit has always been a downfall for me.

“Wow,” she said, “And you’re taking care of a baby too?!” She gestured toward the bag with the bottles.

I chuckled a little and explained the situation while she nodded and the way she looked at me changed.

“Wow,” she said again, “Well, thanks for doing that. Seriously, thanks for taking care of animals and making sure all us people are fed too. Especially in this weather.”

I smiled. No one had ever said “Thanks for being a farmer” to me before. “Oh, cool”, “Y’all must stay busy”, “Does it smell” – those were the comments we usually got. But “Thank you”… nope. It meant more to me than I ever realized it could. It made me hold my head a little higher. Made me not worry so much about what I was wearing but focus more on what I was accomplishing.

Despite my appearance. Despite me dripping mud and we-all-know-what-else on the floor she was probably going to have to clean, she took time to acknowledge what we do. To say she appreciates the effort.

Of course, I remembered my good southern girl manners and said “thank you” but it was transactional, polite. I wish I would’ve told her how much her working at that store meant to me and our little brood. On that day, at that time, her job was vital to our farm and those lambs

But I didn’t. A little stunned, I shuffled out marveling at what had just happened. I arrived home and slopped through the mud into the barn and I fed those babies. They both lived, by the way. Thrived, really. And I marveled and my life-saving, life-changing trip to the dollar store.

The Watermelon

Cattle farmers have year-round responsibilities. Breeding, calving, feeding, doctoring, vaccinating, deworming, making hay, the list could go on. Most cattlemen love their work. They love the outdoors, the animals, the sense of accomplishment. There is also the important aspect of the sale. Selling cattle to provide for their families and to be able to do it all over again next year.

A cattle broker buys calves to send to feed lots to grow into the beef folks all over the world eat. Doing business with a cattle broker is not like walking into your local big box store where the prices are clearly marked. Selling cattle depends on cattle prices, the futures market, the economy and the negotiation skills of both buyer and seller.

Frank, in addition to being a cattleman, also had a well-known green thumb for gardening. Green beans, corn, squash, tomatoes were all grown with meticulous attention. Frank’s specialties in the garden, though, were cantaloupe and watermelon. At the height of the summer Frank would deliver his harvest to friends, family and neighbors all over the community and beyond. He was proud of his abundant garden and found joy in sharing its bounty.

One day in early Fall, Frank and Joe, Frank’s grown son & farm business partner, sat on the front porch of the lovely old farmhouse with Mr. Tracy, a well-known cattle broker who had purchased calves off the farm many times. This was not a social visit. This was a business call. Still, before getting down to the numbers, the men shared stories and caught up on gossip. Frank even gave Mr. Tracy one of his prize watermelons fresh out of the garden. Mr. Tracy expressed his thanks and carried the treat to his car. Then Joe and Mr. Tracy got in the farm truck to ride through the pastures to look at the calves for sale.

Returning to the porch, Joe and Mr. Tracy got down to numbers, talked about the market and finally agreed upon a price for the cattle, sealing the deal with a firm handshake. Frank rocked in his chair observing, allowing his son to handle the deal.

Standing, Mr. Tracy turned to Frank and said expectantly, “Well, Frank, what do you think about that price?”

Frank looked Mr. Tracey in the eye and stoically stated, “Wish I hadn’t given ya the dang watermelon.”

Stella & Finns | Our Story

Courtney hired us to capture the essence and story of her women’s clothing business, Stella & Finns. She needed something less than one page to frame and hang in her brand new mobile boutique. We are so happy that she was pleased and excited about the finished product! We were able to showcase the story of S&F in Courtney’s voice. She was able to concentrate on her business and leave the words to Kelly Writing!