Culture. But not that stuff in your yogurt.

Culture is defined by Webster’s dictionary on-line as:

the beliefs, customs, arts, etc., of a particular society, group, place, or time

: a particular society that has its own beliefs, ways of life, art, etc.

: a way of thinking, behaving, or working that exists in a place or organization (such as a business)

.

Recently, my daughter and I made our annual girl trip back to my home state of Oklahoma.  We stayed with some friends who took us along to see a dance interpretation?  I placed the question mark at the end of the sentence because I’m not quite sure what to call it.  It was at the Tulsa Performing Arts center and the name of the production was called Mob Mental.ity.  That period in the middle of the word was intentional, I mean, they printed it like that everywhere.  It is probably something artsy that I just don’t “get.”  Oh well. I think the whole thing was just plain weird…period.  There I said it. 

The modern dancers jumped around on stage to some intentional terrible flat and sharp live music.  It sounded a lot like my cat Oscar getting his tail stuck somewhere.  He complains a lot.  I felt like this production was a social justice WHINEfest too.  There was the “Hitler reigns” scene.  Ok, that was what I got out of it as one dancer made the third Reich sign high in the air and then everyone started to copy it after some time.  It was disturbing but wait …there’s more.  The scene where they mock religion or Christianity anyway earned a heavy sigh and groan out of my seat mate to my right.  Then there was the political scene where they showed pictures of the Republicans and Democrats and they kindly decided to show a large jug of Kool-Aid behind the purported GOP candidate.  Uh-hem.  The democrat side only lacked a rainbow unicorn and brownies.  There was the independent candidate too and of course they gave some time to the green party too.  After all being green is so very good for us all.

Because a bunch of little social justice dancing soldiers wasn’t enough toward the end of the program a younger man in the audience jumped to his feet and started screaming.  Now, after 12 years of living in Colorado and especially after the recent theater shooting rampage in Aurora, Colorado, I didn’t care for this at all.  At first I thought well this is it.  It is happening to us.  Then he started carrying on about the color of his skin and being accepted for who he is.  Oh, ok.  Right.  Back to the message.  Then a 20-something with blue spiked hair and a dress that looked as though she was poured in and forgot to say “when” jumps to her feet and joins in with the rant.  When I saw this I knew this was a part of the production.  After all, who would shoot up a theater wearing stilettos and blue hair?  It seemed like these kids were carrying lot of anger.  Does getting your Saturday night dose of culture do this to you?  If so, maybe I’ll stay home in my pajamas and watch Duck Dynasty.  

Our daughter’s biological father is always insisting that his daughter get some “culture” because we live in the country, what on God’s green earth could we know about that?  I would like to say that culture is subjective.  It isn’t some over-priced evening where you dress up and listen to lyricless music by people wearing all black in a low light theater saturated with the wafting of Channel number 5.  Culture is simply as defined above.  It can be the culture of a people, a rural people even.  Culture is county fair.  It is handmade quilts, delicious pies, slow smoked BBQ, perfectly refreshing iced tea on a hot summer day.  Culture is the hard work demonstrated in tomorrow’s leaders as 4H youth show their animals. It is the sweet smell of the earth as it is plowed, the aroma of cow and horse poop, the smell of the volunteer parents on the grill raising money for 4H to continue the program.  It is the collective lifestyle of a people, any people.  It isn’t ONLY New York City or the artsy coffee shop in Seattle or the Smithsonian.  It is life.  It is unique and special and it is sometimes just simple.

The dance production was certainly two hours and something of our lives we’ll never get back.  It was well, very interesting.  It was not my cup of tea.  It was really more of a glass of WHINE.

~Anne Boswell Taylor
#Culture
 

It's called a "blessing" for a very good reason, it is!!

I hate waste.  

It’s not an “I’m-a-cheap-Scottish-woman thing.”  It’s a practical, mid-life kind of thing.  Although recently, I suspect it has a lot to do with my zip code.

Living in the 81054 or Bent County Colorado, I am blessed each day to see your food in its infancy.  The bread you make into toast, the cereal, the hamburger you devour at lunch and the ham you slow bake for Sunday after-church lunch.  The sweet, juicy melon that is such a treat this time of year. If you lived here you'd understand why the prayer before you eat is often called a blessing, because it is!!

If you lived here and noticed what I do, you wouldn’t throw away those leftovers.  If you were here, you would see the farmer toiling away to plant the seed only to see the wind blow it away three days later.  You would see the pain in the eyes of the septuagenarian ranchers when the dry cracked earth produced no grass for their cattle to graze upon.  You would witness a round-the-clock presence in the fields during certain times of growth in the crops, some seem afraid to leave for what might happen.  The crop duster planes tireless swoops to again treat a plant that an entire family has prayed over time and time again.  It is a tricky process to get that bread on your table.  If you ever saw this cycle happen you would never throw out stale bread again.  Instead you would soak it in milk and egg and create French toast.  The frenchies might’ve understood and appreciated this tireless agricultural process.   Because if you translate these yummy breakfasts treat into English, it literally means “lost bread.”  But it is not.

If you only understood how many regulations, fines and fees are imposed upon the small farmer and rancher by our government you would wonder why on earth he still does it.  The farmer has faith in his crop and the rancher shares this feeling about his cattle.  The livelihood of family farming and ranching is disappearing as it is more and more difficult for even break even.  

I don’t think that people understand how our food gets to our table.  Many well-meaning suburban mommies shield their children from the cold, hard reality that our food is grown and raised for us to eat.  My daughter told me that a boy in her fourth grade class proudly announced that he doesn’t eat meat that’s been killed…..no….he eats meat from the supermarket.  *Head slap*

I understand that not everyone has the blessing of having a farmer or rancher in their family or knows one.  I think that schools should teach where our food comes from in a sensible way.  I would suspect that food would be wasted a lot less.

~Anne Taylor

daughter-in-law of some SERIOUS cattle ranchers :)
#Blessings #Blessed