Category Archives: Unfiltered

On the subject of brown bananas


So, darlin’, life is short and uncertain. If you know me at all, you know I’m a “seize the day” kind of girl. Yes, we need to make plans for the long run such as 401k and saving for the future, insurance and the like, but I’m talking about little, everyday choices that can enrich our lives.

For instance:


While great for making banana bread, these are not what I’d want for my morning snack. They’re past their prime, yet for YEARS my mom had some that looked like these on top of her refrigerator. Oh, she’d buy new bananas on her weekly grocery run, but the house rule was that we had to eat the brown, spotty, mushy bananas before we could have the new ones.

We always HAD bananas, but we stayed a week behind. Drove. Me. Nuts. After I was grown and moved out, and numerous events had happened to decrease my tolerance for living “less than,” I was able to convince my mom to pitch the brown bananas and break the cycle. I am happy to report that she has embraced fresh, yellow bananas and never looked back.

I think many folks “save the good stuff for later,” and what if later never comes? What happens is that your kids or grandkids will come clean out your house after you die, and they’ll find brand new housecoats and fancy soaps in the shape of flowers that have long since lost their scent, still wrapped in petrified plastic wrap. And those things won’t do anyone any good.

So, friends, let’s pledge to ditch the brown bananas, use the monogrammed soap while it still has a scent, and LIVE OUR LIVES. If tomorrow never comes, and some day it won’t, I want to be that person who has enjoyed and savored the life with which I have been blessed. I want you to be that person, too.

She’s my Person, Darlin’


So Monday was my birthday, and my age now ends with a 9 and I don’t want to talk about the next 362 days. I took the day off work (thankful for Personal Holidays!) and spent the day with my Person.  For those of you who are not familiar with the concept of having a Person, it’s different than having a friend. Friends are GREAT – I LOVE my friends, and they’re great. But, really, you can only have one Person at a time.


The phrase was coined from Grey’s Anatomy (YAYNESS!) and it’s a good one. I am not that woman who says “My husband is my verrrrry best friend!” because he’s not. He’s wonderful, and I love him, but trust me that we are NOT going for mani/pedis and shoe shopping. Ever. He is my hubby, not my bestie and not my Person. I  mean really – if your hubby is your best friend, who do you talk to ABOUT HIM when you want to roundhouse kick him to the face?

So, my Person is Lisa Galusha. She’s pretty awesome, and she knew I had been very down recently with some personal crap (daddy is still in the hospital, other family icky stuff  – rest assured that Darlin Hubby and I are fine). My Person sent me a funny, encouraging, prayerful, OR totally inappropriate meme every hour of my birthday from 7 am to 9 or 10 pm. We were together from 10:30 to about 3, and she sent them anyway.

In addition to dragging a body or digging a hole, everyone needs a Person with whom we can let it ALL hang out. My Person came to the hospital when Daddy had surgery, my Person took me for a pedi and pasta for my birthday, my Person PRAYS FOR ME, and she knows everything about me and she loves me anyway.

So today’s post is a salute to my Person. If you don’t have a Person, get one. Having Lisa as my Person has proven to be vital to my sanity, and she makes my life better in innumerable ways.

D is for more than Darlin’, Darlin’. 

D is for more than Darlin’, Darlin’. 

  • Sometimes we have to pause for introspection, and this is one of those times for me. I am sorry, but my current status is reflected above. D minus. Not quite an F… But certainly not honor roll material in the wide world of blogging, either. I try, y’all! I really do!  Have a calendar alert set for 9 bells every Wednesday morning and  and everything – I fully committed to blogging once a week in 2016. 

But… D minus. Life gets in the way, AGvocating makes me tired and grumpy some times, we’ve had death and sickness and all those other t=”life things,” and I have failed. 

Enter My Tribe. Sweet Krista Stauffer, who you should TOTALLY be following at TheFarmersWifee, asked me to write a blog post about AGvocacy for the @agchatfound (I heart AgChat), so I did, and it was quick and easy and just flew from my fingertips… And to channel my inner Sally Field, “they LIKE me! They really LIKE me!” This came at a time that I needed a pick me up, and it picked me up, and the kind comments have me re-ignited. 

I’ve done something wild and crazy and put WordPress on my iPad so that it is with me always. (Yes, @JPlovescotton, we talked about this moons ago.) SO. Refreshed, reignited, ready to go. For those of you who follow me, I thank you, and I promise to do better. 

Xoxox Rae

Savannah Jane, darlin, what have you DONE?


So you know that I love my dog, Savannah Jane NaughtyDog, to a level that makes some people a little worried, right? I mean, I have a gift-with-purchase daughter that I got when I married Darlin Husband, and she’s GREAT, but my little fur-friend (ok, my dog-ter) is here with me all day, every day, and she will never go to college or move out on her own.

So we are close. VeryClose.

I had been out to dinner and shopping with my Person on Monday evening, and all was well when I came home about 9 bells. She was, naturally, very happy to see her mommy. Before long, it was almost bedtime, so I took her out to potty. On a leash. In our yard. Never completely out of my sight.

And all was well. We came back in and I turned out the lights in deference to DH who was ready to go to sleep.  SJ joined me in the recliner, where I was reading on my Nook (in the dark) and “snooted” up under my hand for an ear scritching.

Then I felt her nose, and Oh. My. Gosh!

There was THIS!


How awful does THAT look? It was immediate, and Dr. Brian BestVetInTheWorld Williams and I still have no idea what she rooted up into with that long snoot.

After Mommy completed her high-speed come-apart (which included DH getting up to turn the light on and LOOK AT HER NOSE, I gave her a benadryl and we went to sleep. She was acting fine. Frisky and chipper, even. Next morning, not a lot had changed, so off to the vet we went, and after a steroid shot for her and some calming talk for me, we decided that a day at Dr. Brian Day Camp was in order.

She is on the mend now – it’s going to take some time to get back to normal, and we STILL don’t know what she got into between the boxwood bush and the side of the house – but my goodness what an ordeal!


It’s the most wonderful time of the year, Darlin’


Yes. Yes is it indeed February, so I’m not talking about Christmas. It was National Farm Machinery Show (NFMS) last week, and for a good ole redneck girl, THAT’S the most wonderful time of the year.

Have I mentioned lately that I love my job?? The NFMS is home to the National Championship Truck and Tractor Pulls, there are multiple places that sell BOOTS, and almost the whole shindig is filled with FARMERS. I mean, unless somebody starts handing out $100 bills, and my DH starts attending, it’s just not going to get much better than that for me.

So here I am, in the soy store.


Yes, the soy store is A Thing. One of the most interesting parts of the RGDJ is educating people on all the things that are made from soy, or that have soy as an ingredient. One of the things we sell the most of during the Farm Show is soy candles. They come in a variety of colors and scents, and they’re very popular. Soy candles don’t leave all that black smoky residue that candles with a petroleum base do, and they burn evenly and cleanly, all the way to the bottom.

You can see “soy nuts” behind me, and they’re a big selling item, too. They’re really roasted soybeans, some with seasoning and others with candy coating, but the terminology changes when they are roasted for food, and they stop being called a bean and begin being called a nut… which is just crazy because they’re a legume. But I digress. Frequently.

SoySoft Lotions are a big seller at the NFMS, because that stuff WORKS. The lipids found in the soybeans and the essential fatty acids and lecithin are great for moisturizing  dry, cracked, chapped skin without any gloppy, frou-frou smell added.  Behind me you also see Kentucky Butt Rub, which contains soy. Before I came to work for the soybean board, this product was called “Rocking River Rub” or some such. Being a marketing person, I convinced the powers that be that we should re-label it “Kentucky Butt Rub,” and sales have picked right up. Amazing how many guys will come over to the booth when someone hollers “hey there, fellas, come on over here and let’s talk about a butt rub!”

Aside from the family reunion that Farm Show really is, one of my favorite events is “First Beer Watch.” While there is a great deal of bona fide business conducted here, this show is similar to Spring Break for some farmers. Although there are no Girls Gone Wild (that I know of), some guys think there’s just something about a cold beer for breakfast that goes hand-in-hand with farm show. I do not know if the fellas who succeeded in making “First Beer Watch” a success each day were just getting started, or if they were on a roll and hadn’t been to bed yet, but each day of the show, all of the soybean folks and many in the booths around us are locked into fierce competition to spot the First Beer of the day.

We’re not judging. It’s just a Thing that we must do.


First Beer Boys often travel in packs… And this year they were slacking. The First Beer record for 2016 was 9:27 a.m., and that is NOT a time to beat. Last year, some overachiever rolled through with a cold one at 9:04… which is not too shabby, since the show opens at 9:00 a.m. My friend Freddell said something a few years back, and it really stuck with me. “You know, RaeRae, if you’re going to drink all day, you gotta start early,” and he’s right. He usually is.

So whether you’re shopping for equipment, strolling around with a cold “hop pop,” or just looking around, the NFMS is the place to be in February. And, as we have mentioned a time or two, nothing says Happy Valentine’s Day, Honey, like a basket of soy candles.

Oh my gosh, y’all… she is darlin’


So… I am getting to that uncomfortable (ok, weird) age when my friends’ children (who I remember being BORN) are having babies of their own. Never has this impacted me more than yesterday, when I held this perfect angel-baby for the first time.


Yes – it’s a huge picture, but LOOK AT THAT BABY! This is Breckin Faith, daughter of my very good friend (sister from another mister) Tammy’s, daughter, Macayla. Breckin is perfect in every way, and her mommy and daddy are so grateful that she is here.

So, basically, as Tammy is my age, this tells me that I AM OLD ENOUGH TO BE A GRANDMA. Several of my other friends are grandmothers… well, actually they are MeMaws and Gran-Grans, and I have one ChiChi. But to be old enough to have a child who has a child absolutely hit home (hard) yesterday, and I’m not sure that I liked it.

You see, I am perpetually 34 in my head. I’m not sure why 34 is the number, but I remember being young and much thinner at 34, and at 34 I had just left a very bad relationship, so I felt free and alive (and thinner…. have I mentioned that I was thinner?)

As my friend Soxy says, le sigh…

I think I’m OK, though, because since A is technically my stepdaughter, I can’t be held by the math. If I refuse to act old enough to be a grandma, and if I refuse to dress like a grandma, maybe I’ll be safe.

But as I’ve always been “Aunt Rae” to Mac and her brother Bub… I think I’m a Great-Aunt. I mean, we know that I am a GREAT aunt, but this is the “carry the one” kind of aunt. And after rocking sweet Breckin yesterday, I am strangely OK with that.

Be who you needed, Darlin’


So – I was fortunate to attend the 2016 CommonGround Conference in Washington DC last week (Yes. Yes, I am aware of Snowmageddon, d/b/a Winter Storm Jonas. Some of my cohorts and I got out on the 6 a.m. flight the day the snow started. Yes. Yes we WERE at the airport at a time that begins with 3. But that’s a whole ‘nother post.)

So as I looked around the room at the conference, I saw women my age. I saw women who are… more chronologically advantaged than I am, and I saw an ever-increasing number of women who are younger than I am. Some were MUCH younger… that is not my favorite thing, but it surely made me think.

As women, we have to lift one another up. We have to help each other to grow, help each other deal, and, well, for these young ladies who haven’t been out of school for long and are learning the ways of the world, we have to help them learn to “Adult.”

As a grammar junkie, I am aware that “adult” shouldn’t be used as a verb, but sometimes it is, and sometimes “adulting” is just HARD. So I ran across this in my personal archives, and it fit with what was on my heart today. IMG_1497

I think this is super-important. I try to be the person who I needed when I was younger. Let that sink in for a moment. Who did you need? What strength did you need help acquiring?  I’m no inspiration, no mentor, no “spirit animal,” but, as I explained to a young woman who is learning to “adult” not long ago, I was blessed with a mother who taught me how to play the Game. And anyone who thinks there is no Game being played out in this life is mistaken.

Teach your younger friends, ladies. Teach them by example, talk to them about life and love and work and how things work together. Don’t let the young women in your life go it alone. Don’t be pushy, but be accessible, be approachable. Be honest, be helpful, be relatable. Because we are all in this together. #adulting #mentor #Sisterhood