The Kill

I stopped by my friends house to swap tales. “Can I get you something to drink?” She asked

“Please anything with caffeine” I replied with a yawn. “I had quite the hunt this morning”

And then because she didn’t stop me-I launched into all the gory details of my early morning:

I was all prepared for the adventure long before the sun rose. I must’ve gotten comfortable and drifted off because I awoke with a start.

shuffle shuffle shuffle” “CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH

I sat bolt upright and grabbed the weapon that was carefully by my side. Complete silence. I waited.

“shuffle shuffle shuffle” “CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH”

As I moved into position, small beady eyes reflected back at me. With lightning speed I closed the gap between me and that beaver like mouse and using my shoe, I did the deed, bagged a trophy 🐭 and attempted to return to my bed and peaceful slumbers ASAP. I’m not kidding when I say “wake me up at your own risk”

Our house has been wonderfully mouse free ever since we moved 2 years ago. But I’ve noticed with a sinking heart the unwelcome footsteps in the wall behind my bed.

Two nights after the initial hunt, another wood cutting mouse tried to saw through my bedroom door looking for an escape. This mouse was quicker than my infuriated shoe, and had quite the cardio workout the next morning as he shot in and out of furniture while my mom and I- each armed with a shoe- tried unsuccessfully to corner him and give him a speedy ride across that rainbow bridge to never never land. The chase ended when he scaled up a flower pot and disappeared into the self watering part in the bottom. A T-shirt got stuffed in the hole he disappeared into and the plant got watered. And watered. And watered.

Apparently when the furnace men installed the new unit last spring, they opened up a hole on the wall and hadn’t closed it before they left. A can of “Great Stuff” hopefully secured that entrance permanently, leaving me to smash the remaining company in the last few scrimmages…

At this point I paused in the middle of my bragging-confident in my ability to be a mouse killer. (Who are we kidding- you never get the upper hand on mice 🙄)

My friend had listened to my wild tales laughing at the appropriate intervals. And then she opened her mouth and effortlessly trumped my story:

It was early morning, and mom woke up with a start- conscious of a presence in her bedroom. And alarmed at the little feet scampering under her nose.

“David!” (name changed to protect the innocent) “ Wake up! I’m pretty sure a mouse just ran across me!”

“Oh he ran across me too” said the sleepy voice from the other side of the bed “and used my arm as a fireman’s pole to exit the bed.”

Sleep was out of the question with such a circus, so Mr and Mrs David got up and put coffee on to watch the rest of the world awaken.

That same unwelcome presence came seeping into the coffee party and they spied their alarm clock silently watching from the corner of the room.

King David picked up a slingshot that the boys had dropped by his LaZboy, grabbed a piece of saltwater taffy and hit the giant in the head and the giant came tumbling down.

If you come to visit me and you notice a big bag of salt water taffy on my nightstand-don’t judge- I may just be expanding my artillery-ready for the next battle. 😂

Be blessed,

Kendra the Mighty Hunter 🐭

Bonus pic:

Occasionally we have a little craft night tradition. Thanks Pinterest for the inspiration and Book Savers for the .10 book for recycling… I’m so excited with this pumpkin harvest 😅

Hey Florence

Hey Florence

I know we haven’t met, but I have a pretty strong opinion about you. This year has been a challenge already-trying to dodge rainy days and still feed the world in a timely fashion. Stressful but good-the crops that are almost ready to harvest look promising. I’m so excited and thankful for my second crop beans by the river… They really aren’t interested in a swim.

You’ve gotten our attention with your threats of strong winds and double digit rain. There’s a somber tone in the voice of the farmers as they beg us to brave their muddy fields to secure their harvest before your arrival. This isn’t a game.

But then I’m reminded that this isn’t between me and you. I know Someone who can calm waves on command, and just remembering that fact calms the storm in my heart.

It will be ok. Thanks for reminding me where I place my trust. #hurricaneflorence #trustgod #harvest18 #johndeere

Savoring Working for the Beast of Harvest

Most days you’ll find me with my faithful tractor flying over the river and thru the woods between the field and the farm. We hurry to catch the cutter, and usher a couple million pieces of processed corn silage safely to storage. We fall in line behind the cart in front of us. The chopper hesitates for a few seconds, the cart in front of me rolls out, and we fall in stride with the machine, while it loads my cart.

I love watching our John Deere Forage Harvester work. Some days I imagine that it is a beast with insatiable hunger. I watch as the helpless rows of corn fall prey to its ravaging appetite. This beast munches it’s away across the field, leaving only corn stubble in its wake, and with the same desperate hunger moves to the next field.

Sometimes I wonder if the Harvest itself is the actual beast. Using sweet charm to lure us into the game, we excitedly follow. She proceeds to shower us with beautiful sunsets, bright skies, rainbows and appreciative farmers and has us so addicted to her ways-we scarcely notice that we are skipping meals and working day and night. The adrenaline keeps us and our machinery running at maximum capacity and we blindly, deliriously follow at Harvest’s beck and call.

But usually I see the entire process as a grand orchestra. The cutter sets the pace of the music- my tractor joins the tune- even the sound of my safety chains slapping the cornstalks adds to the melody. It is beautiful song.

As Harvest rushes by, I just want to hit pause. I want to watch the rain wait to move across the farm until after we unload the last load of silage. I want to “enjoy” hearing my dad’s version of “here I sit like a bird in the wilderness” every time he has to wait on a cart. I want to relish lathering on more sunscreen because the day is a cooker. I want to bless my mom and the other faithful ladies who send delicious food to the fields right at meal time. I want to grin and throw silage when I meet my sisters in the field and to take lots of pics even if it drives the men on the crew to distraction. I want to savor the whirlwind of these days.

Because tomorrow isn’t promised. And seasons change so fast.

Whatever season you’re in-take the time to savor. These are good days.

Be Blessed,


Bonus Pic:

This week held a red letter day for KJ and Em 🙂 I stopped by their new chicken house for 10 minutes as the chicks arrived and got chased by a chicken 🙄 I can handle them at this size tho 😜