So...with living on a farm, comes meetings of agriculture of all kinds. Meetings or classes. Whatever you want to call them. My husband has been to ditch meetings, farmer meetings, town meeting, wheat classes, and.... my favorite one so far.....Cereal Class.
Last night there was a business meeting for a big agriculture company. We were invited and decided to go because, heck, it was a free dinner! Plus, I realized that I've got to take any opportunity that I can to go out with my husband!
We got there at 6:30, ate, then listened and listened and listened. I texted. I tapped my foot. I tapped my husband's knee. I ate my food so slowly that the caterers seemed a bit bugged at me when I didn't let them take away my plate until 8:30. I then hung on to my roll and munched on it for the next hour. Are you with me? Yeah, this meeting went from 6:30 to 9:30!!! I have not been that bored since I can remember. I'm sure it was interesting, but I had no idea what anyone was talking about. It sounded like a different language to me. So I sat and sat and sat and sat. Through a farmer's meeting. And every time someone decided to pause and tell a joke, or prolong their speech, I thought I would kill over. Finally, about 9 o'clock, I realized that the others might be feeling a bit of the same way. My husband, uncle, and some new people that we met, started rubbing their fingers around the top of their goblets until they barely made that whistle noise. You know what I mean? Gave me a good laugh. Then a few moments later, my husband was laughing and pointed to another table who were building towers with their goblets. It was all very interesting and exciting. But I've decided that farmer meetings are not for me.
In other news, calving season has started. The babies are bein' born. We had a little Valentine's Day baby. What a great birthday, huh?