What is the reward for hard work?

While out for dinner last night my sister and I were having a conversation with TP, another Ionian. We initially started talking about how hard the local farmers push themselves and their crew during harvest, sometimes not even stopping for lunch. That led to TP telling us how her grandson thought that coming and working at her house would be better and possibly easier than going out in the field. She had him working just as hard at her house in the heat, not the cushy easy day he likely imagined. 

The conversation made me remember one I had with a co-worker before I left Connecticut about the work ethic I learned at a young age as the daughter of a farmer.  

I've been working for my current employer since 1998 and most days I worked an extra half hour or hour or longer. For the first five years I wondered what I was doing wrong. Why could everyone walk out the door on time, every day, and I always felt like there was more I needed to get done? Once I started to move up the ladder, I stopped wondering what I was doing wrong and decided I must be doing something right.

I was in my office working late again one evening back in March and a co-worker, who has the same working late tendencies, asked me how I could still be putting in just as much effort now as I did 14 years ago. How could I continue that level of effort without getting a reward or recognition? Honestly, I had never given it any thought until he asked.

My answer was simple, I was raised with the understanding that a hard day's work was it's own reward. I was raised with the work ethic of a farmer.

My co-worker informed me that was a crazy notion. I suppose to a lot of people, that would sound crazy. Perhaps even more so to my niece's generation. However when you look at the example I grew up with, it's really not so crazy.

A farmer doesn't punch a clock. If they do not show up to do the work, then they have nothing to show for it in the end. If the seed does not get into the ground during the right window of time then it will directly effect the success of their harvest and, therefore, their financial bottom line.

No one tells a farmer how hard to work, what time to start or what time to stop. They don't work until they are tired, they work until it's done. A work ethic that has earned me the trust of my employer which granted me the ability to work for my Connecticut-based company from the family farm here in Oregon.

Drop by anytime?

Do you ever just drop by someone's house without calling or texting ahead of time? If you answered yes, you may live in a small town.

My entire life (the years before I moved to the East Coast), people would often stop by our house, unannounced. We lived on one of the main roads used to go from Ione to many of the larger cities, so we were on their way. In the days before the cell phone, it made sense.

When I moved east, I didn't know anyone really, and it took about five years before I had established some strong friendships. Once I did, it didn't really cross my mind that people in the city may not do the casual "drop by."

I only made the mistake once.

I had an extra ticket for a fundraiser gala. I had been dating someone that I intended to bring but realized I couldn't "fake it" with the guy until the event just so I would have a date. I was out one day and saw that a friend's car was in his driveway. I decided to stop and invite him to join me and our other friends at the event. Admittedly I had a crush on him.

When he answered the door, I instantly realized that people don't just "drop by" back east. He looked confused and a bit irritated. I was flustered and regretted even stopping. I don't think I actually ended up inviting him, or if I did he said no.

In the two and a half months that I have been back in my little rural area, I have already experienced about five various "drop bys."  Even in these days where nearly everyone has a cell phone, the casual "drop by" lives on. I am pleasantly surprised each time it happens. It makes me think of that day back in Connecticut, and I smile.

Small-town Fourth of July

Every town has their own way of celebrating Independence Day. In the years that I spent in Connecticut, I had some nice Fourths, mostly the day was celebrated with a barbecue with friends. Never once did I go down to Short Beach in Stratford, CT to watch the fireworks. And if there was a big, town-wide celebration, I wasn't aware of it; not to mention I probably wouldn't go because of the crowds it would likely draw. I think that is why I am rather partial to my small-town celebration. 


The first events happen a few days before the Fourth, though the early events are probably not technically part of the celebration. The afternoon of  Friday, June 29 the local bank put on a customer appreciation BBQ that was free, while the high school volleyball team had a car wash at the same time. Then that evening the Legion Hall hosted a Pulled Pork dinner (by donation) followed by a Texas Hold 'Em Poker and Cribbage Tournament. Then the events stop until a golf tournament on Tuesday, July 3rd with the local Talent Show that same evening.

The big day is obviously on the 4th of July. The day starts off at 7 a.m. with a 5k run/walk fundraiser. Also starting at 7 a.m. is the Fireman's Breakfast. We have a fantastic Volunteer Fire Department and they cook up eggs, ham and pancakes for donations outside of the firehouse with seating inside the station.
At 9 a.m. the Topic Club's Book Sale opened along with the small Craft Fair down at the Legion Hall.

In the park across from the Fire Hall, the annual Blues Cruise Car Show kicked off at 10 a.m., while they set up for the kids Fish Pond at the Fire Hall. The bulk of the day's events take place in the park, on main street and in front of the fire hall. The fish pond line starts for form around 10:30 a.m., it is free for the kids and after they "fish" their prize out they enter a free drawing for a bike. There were eight bikes, each ranging in size for age. 


The Pie Sale started at 11 a.m., in the kitchen area of the fire hall. The pies/cakes are made by the Catholic Church's Altar Society and sell for $2.50. There was a huge variety from carrot cake to cheesecake and Marionberry (a variety of blackberry that is native to Oregon) pie and much, much more. 
The food vendors are also set up around 11 a.m. The Mexican food booth was highly anticipated and is run by a family in town. When I was visiting with some ladies at the fireman's breakfast they were already looking forward to that specific food booth. At 12:30 p.m. the names for the bike raffle were drawn and those riding in the parade reported to their floats to begin lining up while the crowd gathered along main street.


The parade started at 1 p.m. running down Main Street with the announcer stand in front of the Fire Hall. Leading the parade were the US and Oregon flags. They were presented while our own K.G. did an amazing job singing The Star Spangled Banner, a Capella. 

At the front of the parade rode the Grand Marshals, our own high school volleyball team who were the State 1A Champions with a record 0-32 season. My sister happens to be the assistant coach. The rest of the parade was comprised of towing trucks from the local towing company, local political candidates, Morrow County Fair representatives, Little League All Star team, some of the classic cars from the car show, some farm equipment and then bringing up the rear was the fleet of fire trucks and ending with one of the county sheriff's. Nearly all of the floats tossed out candy for the kids.


Following the parade are some activities in the park including a dunk tank, a frog jumping contest and a free craft area for kids. The afternoon is filled with music from various Blues bands, briefly interrupted for a few live auction items at 7 p.m., and the entire day ends with an impressive fireworks display.


Looking at the list of activities, it is a busy day. 
So what do you think? How did my small-town Fourth of July compare with the celebration in your town?

There is no Better Friend than a Sister

Taken Summer,  2008

Today just happens to be my sister's birthday. I won't say how old she is but I will mention that she is only 2 years and 5 months older than me.

Living on a farm, outside of a small town, we kept each other entertained. A rousing game of "hot dog" where one of us would lay between one red bean bag and one yellow bean bag while the other sat on top is a game I remember fondly.

Another favorite was when I was her rag doll– I think that was the game. We would stand back to back and hook our arms together and then walk around. I would go wherever she walked. I can still hear us giggling.

Being the younger sister, I, of course, did my part to irritate her. I desperately wanted to be her twin sister. Our mother is a twin and I wanted to be one too. During one of our many family vacations to Wallowa Lake a little boy asked us if we were twins. I was thrilled that he thought we could be, but then crushed the very next moment as my sister snarled back "no!"

But as you can see from the photo above, there were times when she didn't mind looking like my twin. The photo above was after we had our new Dorothy Hamill hair cuts.

I worshiped her. Anything she did, I wanted to do, even from an early age. She folded laundry and emptied the dishwasher and I had to do it too. She did tap dance and tumbling...so did I. I know it bugged her sometimes.

However since we lived in a rural area, we became great friends. My friends liked hanging out with her and her friends wouldn't mind me hanging around. As we got older the slight age difference mattered less and less.

When I moved to Connecticut she gave me a stern warning that if I became a snobby, materialist person as a result of being on the East Coast then she was dragging me back. I, in turn, told her if she wanted me to come back she just had to tell me she was pregnant. I ended up taking nine years to fulfill that promise as I had been in CT for five years by the time she had my adorable niece. 

Now that I am back, having more time with her been priceless. I will admit that knowing I would have more time with her and being around to help her was a huge reason I wanted to come back. I look forward to making many new memories.

We are sisters by blood, friends by choice.