Introducing: Cattle Tales and a Love Story (Part 1)

My favorite part of any good story is often the beginning. My favorite day of the week is Monday. I just like that feeling of a clean slate and a fresh start. Oh, the possibilities! I think I can blame some of this on one of my favorite Anne of Green Gables quotes: “Isn’t it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet?”

But I will be the first to admit that mistakes and everything that comes after the beginning is what gives life it’s color and flavor. Each day is the weaving of a tapestry that we have yet to see fully formed. But I still like my clean slate moments because I love to dream of the possibilities ahead.

With that in mind, I’m adding something new to these blogs: Cattle Tales. Namely, the stories that led us here as a farm and family. I’ll also share current stories as they happen. It’ll be a time hop so I’ll make sure to clue you in on when the story took place.

Since I’m most familiar with my own story, I’m going to start with sharing one of the stories about how Joel and I met. Are you ready for this? Be prepared to chuckle ‘cause it’s a good (and funny) tale about farm boy meets music chick.

The date was February 14th, 2010 and I was on a date. Not with Joel, mind you, or actually any other young bachelor. I was on a Daddy-Daughter date with my Dad who had established a long tradition of taking me out on Valentine’s day since I was four years old. These were special times with my Dad and we talked about everything and anything as I shared my hopes and dreams for the future. Mostly he would contentedly listen to me chattter with a smile on his face. Yup. He’s a good Dad.

On this particular date, we somehow got onto the subject of dating and men. We actually didn’t venture into this territory too often on these outings as he was fine observing this part of my life without commenting. And to be honest, there wasn’t much to comment on. I was in my early 20’s, focused on my goals and didn’t have time for casual dating. Well, I probably did have time, but I was (and still am) an all or nothing personality. Poor Joel. Somebody should have warned him.

As he listened to me chatter on about my future and dreams for men and marriage, per usual, he quietly listened. I must have paused at some point to take a drink because all I remember is him quietly inserting what would be a life altering comment for me. It went something like this, “You know what, Chelsea? I see you marrying a farmer.” I think I might have sputtered a little on my beverage because I was quick to add, “Oh, no. Nope. Yea, no. I don’t think so Dad.”

Now, let me be very clear before I proceed: I had nothing against farming or farmers. (I love you, Joel! xoxoxoxoxoxo.) I had grown up on a hobby farm surrounded by corn fields. But I was convinced that I was headed into a life in the arts. I had been teaching private piano lessons since I was 15, worked in music ministry since I was 16, played for local school choirs and had plans to continue in the field of music ministry as a worship leader (or something to that effect). All that to say, I did not see myself on a farm. In fact, I hoped to marry, live in the city for awhile and travel. Only when kids entered the picture did I foresee returning to the country. Yup. I had my life planned out, now insert God chuckling. I like to imagine God has a good sense of humor with the twists and turns life often takes.

Well, after I finally cleared my throat from choking on my drink, my Dad and I finished our meal and headed out. My Dad dropped the subject and I felt no need to continue the conversation. Little did I know that the following year I’d be on a date with a farmer. Little did I know that I would be engaged to that farmer. Little did I know that I was a mere 2 weeks away from receiving a Facebook message from said farmer about going out on a date. The message went something like this…

To be continued.