One life: farmer.

So when I go hiking, which I haven't done in forever (since camp!) but really want to soon, and I'm with people who I haven't hiked with before, I really like to ask the question, "If you could have multiple lives, what would you do?" I haven't figured out a way to phrase the question so that it's self explanatory, but what I mean by it is that your first life is the one you're living right now, and hopefully you're doing what you want to do most with this life. But if you could have another life after this one, what would you do with it? It's usually in terms of careers. For example, in this life I'm aiming at something maybe in the State Department; I like to say diplomat to keep things simple and because I'd love to live in foreign countries learning other languages and promoting American values (this is a vague term we can talk about later if you want). But my interests go beyond political science and economics, believe it or not. In my second life I'd probably be a park ranger. Or maybe a Supreme Court judge (Judge Griffith that came and spoke last Tuesday reminded me of that dream). I would love to be an astronaut or a full time editor. In any case, I like asking that question because I think it gets beyond the classic "What's your major" question and really delves into people's passions and usually results in some interesting conversations.

One life I never thought I'd want to have is farmer. My mom grew up on a farm and they didn't have much money and now when I visit my grandparents, they live in the middle of nowhere and I can't get cell service and I never had a good attitude about being there, although as I've grown older I've appreciated the solitude of it. But a few weeks ago I went down to Zac's house in Kanosh, Utah, about two hours south on I-15. He had 300 people in his whole high school I think; that was before they combined with Fillmore. Anyways, his dad's a farmer, and before Ellen and Chris and Annie got down there, we went out with his dad in this old truck and emptied the water troughs and loaded them onto a trailer and watered the orchard and fixed his dad's motorbike (oh, and his dad is mayor). I actually didn't do hardly anything except stand there with Jadyn as he held Ayva because she cried every time I held her, but I loved being out there. It was getting dark and I watched the moon rise over the mountains as I stood in among cow pies in knee high grass, bouncing Ayva to hold off the crying as long as possible; it was a big ole harvest moon that rose so fast! After a really hard first week of school, it was a lot of prayers answered to drive away from Provo and come to this place apart from time where you just work with your hands and you see the consequence of your labor in a very real way: the crops grow, the orchard blossoms, the chickens lay, the pigs eat. It just seemed so much simpler. And I'm a big fan of simple.

The rest of the weekend consisted of playing with nieces, shooting guns (I really don't like that), riding horses (I liked that a lot more than poor Ellen...), shucking corn, eating corn, hiking Angel's Landing, and seeing the St George Temple Visitors' Center. I couldn't have dreamed up a better weekend. I was with really chill people who knew me well and cared about me. And I couldn't help but wish that I could just stay on the farm and spend the rest of my life working with my hands and doing what was required by the land. I know I'm idealizing it. Being a farmer isn't how people get rich, usually, and it's certainly not easy. It's a hard life that's nearly impossible to just pass on to your kids, who may or may not want to be farmers. But there's still that appeal of a life of simplicity and solitude that I experienced for just an hour and that I've thought about since when I've been stressed about school (oh wait, that's all the time these days). I think I've decided to add farmer to my list of lives.

Me and Old Cigar (?), Zac and Bunny, Annie and Gun Smoke.