FARGO-MOORHEAD CONVENTION AND VISITORS BUREAU Fargo-Moorhead's Celebration of Women & Their Music
This coming Saturday (February 18th) is the Fifteenth Annual Celebration of Women and Their Music. Im not sure how I was unaware of this event until just this week since Deb Jenkins founded it in 19... Posted on 2/16/12 at 4:04 PM
Last week, in between bites of chicken casserole, my husband shot a coyote off our deck.
A quick glance out the window as the sun was setting sent him flying from his seat muttering and cussing as he ran to the back of the house to retrieve his gun.
My little sister has hair like mine. We sort of walk the same, explaining the way we see the world with our arms flailing toward the sky, our way of putting the exclamation point at the end of our sentences.
My name is Jessica Blain Veeder Scofield.
I know it’s a lot. A lot of syllables and a lot to explain when I’m signing up to renew my driver’s license, booking a flight or signing my life away on a bank loan.
I used to watch her pedal her little bike down the road toward the house, her curls bleached by the sun and her chubby face flushed from the effort it takes to navigate small wheels over uneven scoria.
We built our house in the middle of a cow pasture. It was unavoidable really. I mean, out here everywhere is either in the middle of a cow pasture or the middle of an alfalfa field.
Until we build a fence.
I can’t talk about the ranch without talking about my dad.
Pops is such a fixture on this landscape that it seems he’s woven into every story, every memory and every mishap I recall, like that oak tree in the yard.
It’s canning season. You probably know this. You probably have a garden that’s producing buckets full of tomatoes, carrots, cucumbers and corn. You’re likely scratching your head wondering what to do with it all. Salsa, soup, frozen, dried, blanched, juiced, jellied, syruped, pickled. You name it, and it’s being done.
It’s late summer and the grass is tall. It scratches my bare legs as I walk on the two-track road up to the hayfield. I wear shorts because it’s summer, it’s hot and there aren’t many more moments these legs will get to see the light of day.
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