Wow has it been a while since I blogged! It's winter feeding here on the ranch and I have been commissioned to write about it. Been a little distracted by that assignment and all that needs done to keep animals healthy and fed. I have a new one for you though and I hope you enjoy!
It’s a “Mash
a button” world we live in.
The term
“Mash a button” came lovingly from my Dad.
My parents
are in their mid 60’s and retired. They have worked very hard for the better
part of 45 years for what they have and I am proud to say I’m their
Daughter. My parents believe in hard
work, living up to their word, and making good choices. Often times I’ll go to
Mom and Dad for advice, they are my one stop advice shop and I know without a
doubt how lucky I am to have that. When my Dad pulls their camper into a
campground and “Mashes a button” I smile when the jacks all come down, the thing levels, the water heater ignites, and the slide outs glide smoothly
into position and he has yet to leave the driver’s seat. They deserve it.
Our camper,
however, does none of those things. Most times we don’t even bother with the
jacks, the hot water heater needs a hubcap to cover it so the wind doesn't blow the pilot out,
and my idea of “creating more space” means throwing out the toys and lawn chairs.
Once upon a
time we lived in the “Mash a button” world and knew no different. Mash the
button to turn the furnace on and heat floods the house. Now we delicately
light the wood burning stove and wait. Mash buttons on the phone and in 30 minutes
or less fried chicken shows up at the door. Now I plan a day ahead and fry my
own chicken (and it tastes better). Mash a button on the clothes dryer to take
care of the laundry. Now I hang it diligently on the clothesline and Mother
Nature does the rest. Mash a button on the microwave and 45 seconds later sit
down with your bowl of popcorn. We don’t even have a microwave. Need bread,
eggs? Get in your minivan and in 15 minutes your leaving the grocery store with
your booty. Yes, it may take me all day
to make bread, and I regularly argue with the chickens (OK mainly the rooster). However, when my 3 men sit down to dinner and devour a whole loaf of the bread I
made myself and a dozen or more Yorkshire puddings made with eggs from those
chickens, I know a “mash a button” life is no longer for me. No Ma’am. The last
time I mashed a button was on the telephone to call and ask Mom what goes into
her famous stuffing.
When we made
the jump to the ranch 2 years ago we truly found the lifestyle we love. A “Mash a button”
life may fit for most people, but not for us. I am eternally grateful everyday for
the friends and family who understand that and don’t hold it against us.
Happy New Year from the Stephensons!!
