Dear Reader,
I am still here. I’m still a rancher’s daughter with big dreams, lots of books, and too much coffee. A little older, a little more acquainted with the grief of this world, and more appreciative of the beauty in it. It’s been quite a year with a lot of changes. Some a long time hoped for, and some I wish would have remained the same. But all in God’s timing.
In January of last year, I started a job as an aide to a state representative. That was interesting. First, I never imagined myself with a full-time desk job where I had to wear a dress every day, talk to all kinds of people on the phone, and go to events. I even went to the capital during a session. Was this job my first pick, no. I had dreams of going to be a packer in the Wyoming wilderness, but God sent this job to me first and it just seemed to be where I was needed at the time.
To say I learned a lot is an understatement. I actually learned for the most part to talk confidently to strangers. (When your boss is important it makes this easier because people want to talk to you anyways.) I learned how to kindly and firmly direct the few difficult customers that I had to other resources when they asked questions I had no way of answering even when they thought I did. (There were a few times that I wanted to ask them to let me know what they found. I also learned how to stand up for myself and constituents when people tried to brush me off. It’s interesting how touchy people get when you get near the truth. I discovered oddly that it takes more courage to stand up verbally to a human than it does to get that one stubborn yearling bull to get in the chute. (It takes more finesse when you aren’t allowed to hit them with a cow stick and yell.) I also learned that even though I had a great scene of downtown outside my window, it still wasn’t for me, and I needed a more ranchy job in the long term.
This year was also a huge change in my personal life. Towards the end of last summer my parents decided to sell out in Florida and move to South Dakota. Within probably three months of just talking about it and having it listed, we had a buyer and the startling reality that a long-time dream of my parents was actually going to happen really soon. The fall was spent packing, enjoying trips to the beach and visiting grandparents, and generally saying goodbye to Florida without fully accepting the reality of moving. I even went to my first renaissance festival where I bought another mug for my collection.
What was supposed to be our last month in Florida enjoying the nice November weather and last Thanksgiving that we would host at that house, became something very unexpected and rather unwanted. A very dear uncle who was also my pastor died. November was spent supporting my aunt and cousins while still trying to celebrate Thanksgiving and get the house packed up. At the beginning of our preparations to move, my family noted that it was like attending our own funeral watching people mourn our leaving and making plans for the future that we would not be a part of. But it was nothing in comparison to a real funeral.
On a gray, rainy December morning, my family pulled out of our house for the last time. It’s amazing that a family legacy can be packed up in a U-Haul truck, a stock trailer, and a pickup with a little bass boat. My dad and siblings trekked across the country to South Dakota while my mom and I stayed a few more weeks until I was off of work for Christmas. After making the same journey with my mom, I spent Christmas in South Dakota with my family. I didn’t exactly get a white Christmas, but waking up to a heavy frost on everything was pretty magical. It did snow some after Christmas, but it was only a thin layer. But a Florida girl will take what she can get. Walking out in negative weather was a new sensation. It’s like when you walk on hot concrete and it feels cold at first, then it’s suddenly burning hot. Only, at first, it doesn’t feel cold, just room temp, then suddenly you’re freezing and can’t use your hands properly.
After the New Year, I boarded a plane to make the trip that took my mom and I three days in ten hours. I settled into my new home with some friends and resumed my normal routine at work, even though my life felt anything but normal. It is strange to go from always having someone to do something with at a given time, to texting friends or family to see if they were home. For three months, I pushed through, but decided that it was not for me, so I moved to South Dakota too.
I thought that moving my junk out of my bedroom and getting it to South Dakota would be a cinch.
I was wrong.
Towards the end of my stay in Florida my truck ended up in the shop for a month. Which was hard to wait out but did allow me more time to spend with family and at the beach. It also ensured that my truck was running well enough to drive two thousand miles. I packed up my room, which kind of surprised me of how much stuff I had. (In my defense it was mostly books.) Gathered up some things that didn’t make it on the first or second trip to South Dakota, loaded up my brother’s go-cart into the bed of my truck, and pulled out with my mom who had flown in to help me drive up.
I did cry a little in the Cracker Barrell in Mississippi because I wanted to go home. To which home, I don’t know. It was a little hard during the first week because I couldn’t meet up with my best friend on a random Tuesday night, I had to keep asking where random things were in kitchen, and people kept saying things like east and west and unless it was morning or evening you can’t really tell because everything looks the same.
But I am here with my family, and my horses, and my books, and that is home.
From the Rancher's Daughter's Desk 