Annette Tait & Katy "Kate" Kassian
Sometimes the silliest little things are real eye-openers. Stuff we'd normally take for granted that --- for whatever reason — spurs a thought or a memory or offers a totally unexpected little nugget of new information. Or, in this case, reminded us of how lucky we really are.
Like many, we used to breeze right by the turnoff at Mule Creek Junction — the one that leads to Edgemont, S.D. That changed one year during a trip to Sturgis, when we stopped in the café in Lusk and saw a flyer for a "bikers and bulls rodeo."
According to Webster's Dictionary, "community" is defined as people with common interests — an interacting population of various individuals in a single location. A community can be your town, your street, your church, school, coffee klatch, business, rodeo family or pretty much any group at all. Community = people. But what does that really mean? Think about how community — or lack of community — affects us.
We're feeling the Valentine's Day love with a slightly different twist — after all, what else would you expect from us? Most of the time we write about how to make rural life better. We don't want to see our small towns and rural areas fade any farther. We want to see rural people and rural places thrive. That's because we love living rural. And here are a few of the reasons why. Sunrises, sunsets and stars
So what exactly is a "prairie palace"? It's a simple grain bin or silo, one of those humble round entities that dot rural landscapes (and occasionally are even found near cities). Grain bins come in all sorts of sizes and shapes — in fact, old granaries are sometimes oblong or octagonal. Our personal favorites are the tall cement ones with chrome domes. A favorite of Katy's is "Betty's place" (name withheld on request), which immediately brings four things to mind: • I want to stay there! • Wow! The income potential! • What else could I do with it?
* With sincere apologies to Charles Dickens Two cities, similar sizes, five miles apart on a state highway, midway between two major cities. Both have main streets, food, retail, schools, services, libraries, etc. What sets them apart is how they use their assets.
OK, so where'd it go? What the heck happened to 2018? We could've sworn it was just a few days ago we were griping about how Christmas decorations were on display before Halloween. Now it's already time to come up with New Year's resolutions? That long-standing tradition has merits, but it also has thorns. We've run into a few of those thorns ourselves. We've covered all the usual bases—eat right, get fit, get organized, you get the drift. And then we've run into life.
"Never" is a word we use sparingly, because so often it comes back to haunt us. There have just been too many times we've vowed to never (fill in the blank), then ended it up doing it anyway. So when we say "never," listen up — it's important. There is never — never, ever — a valid reason to expect someone to take unnecessary risks. A few minutes or an inconvenience is not worth a person's life. Or your own life.
It's easy to talk, but much harder to walk. And there's a lot of talking going on this time of year. So, here's our holiday challenge: Don't just be thankful or share what you're thankful for. Put your actions where your thankfulness is. If you're thankful to have food on your table, give to your local food pantry.
For Pete's sake—don't you know what that's called? It's a (whatever the heck it is)! I am sooooo guilty of giving critters and objects my own little names, and/or using elaborate hand gestures to describe them. Hubby's even slipped and used my words a time or two: "I'm taking the chicky-chicky mower." "Come help me move the roundy rounds" (feeders). In fact, I once relayed an entire story about an elk crossing a river and breaking through the ice with mostly hand gestures, while hubby was falling apart laughing and asking, "How'd that go again?"