Mondays are hard. Tuesdays can be pretty hard, too, because the “start of week adrenaline rush” that got you through Monday has worn off. Wednesdays are the day when you tip over the top of the mountain and start coasting … Continue reading
Foreword: this post is half-rant and may have some inaccuracies. Please let me know of any and I will do my best to research and correct the information.
I’m on my spring break right now. I’m sitting in Kansas City, enjoying the sights and sounds of a fairly large city. The town I grew up in is nothing like Kansas City, though. The town I grew up in, Momence, Illinois, has a population somewhere between three and four thousand. The high school graduating classes are right around 100, and that’s including kids that are bused in from outlying neighborhoods and villages. In warm spring and summer, the town is framed by a lush carpet of pastures, and fields. Corn, soybeans, wheat. On a warm summer day, when the wind blows just right, you can smell the herb fields west of town where basil and oregano help stimulate the local economy. The Kankakee River, which runs right through historic downtown Momence, has a great reputation for big pike and large populations of bluegill.
We all know each other. We all take care of each other. It’s a pretty magical place to have grown up. While my mailing address is no longer in Momence, it’s still in a way home. The memories, the people, the places…they’re all near and dear to my heart. Nowadays, though, the State of Illinois isn’t helping rural community. Continue reading
This blog has cows on it. It’s an ag blog, and to anyone who comes here hoping to read about agriculture, I apologize; life has dealt me several cards lately that make me focus a bit more on the part of this blog that is devoted to life lessons and growing up. After all, KellyMRivard.com is a consolidation of two blogs: one about ag, and the other about my journey from young, inexperienced student to well-rounded adult.
2011 and what we’ve seen of 2012 thus far have been rich with life lessons. Some were because of ag. Many went hand-in-hang with it. Others…well, they’re lessons that we all will learn sometime, whether we work in agriculture or not.
Recently, I was reminded of a lesson that I’ve learned far too many times: the fragility of life. Not just the act of living; it’s understood that we all will die at some point, although we never know when or how. And as shocking as an unexpected death can be, there’s also a metaphorical death of “life as we know it” for those left behind.
So, it’s no secret that in a few months my life will change forever. My decade-and-a-half run as a student of formal education will end, and the next stage of my existence as a student of life with commence. I’ll be a college graduate, and hopefully a full-time working professional. Every time I consider this, I have a very confusing blend of emotions. Fear and uncertainty, pride and confidence, excitement and exhilaration, sadness and nostalgia. It’s bittersweet, but I’m hoping to make the most of what’s left of my life as an “irresponsible college student.”
Let’s face it, there’s a lot less wiggle room when you suddenly have a nine-to-five and consistent responsibilities. So, I’m writing up a “Leap List,” as my psychology-savvy roommate told me it was called. I’m making a to-do list of things to do while I have the freedom to now, as a college student, before I take that big leap into the next stage of life.
I’ve written about my love-hate relationship with the suburbs a few times. There’s just something suffocating about it; it’s slower than the fast-paced, energizing city, but way faster than the low-key places I considered “home” for most of my life. The skies are smaller, the roads are busier, and there’s just this feeling of suburban monotony.
That’s not to say there aren’t benefits of going to school here. There are plenty of resources at my disposal, and I’m a short drive or train-ride from Chicago. I have my pick of restaurants, stores, movie theaters, clubs, hangouts…it’s not bad. It’s just not always “me.” And it’s even less “me” after I’ve been living with my parents for a month over break. You get used to a different pace, and while it’s nice to have a routine again, it’s strange to be reacquainting myself with my suburban home-away-from-home. Continue reading
Until I left for college, I had lived in the same house my entire life. It was a modest ranch house on a rural highway in small-town Illinois. Our large back yard butted up against a field, which was either high-oil soybeans or white corn, depending on the year. My hometown was paradise, and I thought that it was the only place on Earth I’d ever want to be.
I had a lot to learn about who I was and where I could end up.
Views like this made Momence seem like the only place I could ever be happy.
I am not a foodie. I am not a food blogger. I like food, a whole lot. I like to eat food. Cheap food, good food, guilty pleasure food, sweet food, salty food…I like food. I also like to learn about food, and what it takes to get the food from origin to tummy. I may not have a highly-developed knack for cooking (I can cook well if I want to or need to, though…) I DO love ag, so it’s time to toot my Illinois-native horn and flaunt this state’s autumn pride-and-joy.
Because of my newfound place in the urban corporate world (while working in the rural agriculture industry) and my three-years-and-counting stint as a resident of Chicago’s ritzy west suburbs, I have spent a lot of time around people I fondly call “city slickers.” I’ve written about feelings of apprehension regarding my adjustment to suburban life, but I’ve come to love the different lifestyles I’ve had, in a separate-but-equal sort of way. There are pros and cons to living in the country, the burbs, or the city. The people you surround yourself with can make a big difference.
Sometimes the conversations you have with people in a different setting and lifestyle are priceless.
The first time I set foot on North Central College’s campus, I knew that this was the school I was going to attend. I had been to several other schools and had never had the feeling of serendipity. Something about North Central just clicked. It told me I was “home.” I had a gut instinct that I needed to attend this school, and that was that.
Within weeks of moving in, I was horribly homesick and desperately missing my high school sweetheart. I grew up in the middle of cornfields, and downtown Naperville did not feel right. I missed my boyfriend, my childhood friends, my family, and my dog. I longed for big skies, open spaces, bright stars, and sunsets over the fields. Around that time, I shut out North Central. Despite the strong feelings of belonging I’d had during that first visit, NCC just wasn’t where I wanted to be.
I snapped this a few weeks ago in my hometown, shortly before I came back to school. Who wouldn't miss this?
California is the “land of plenty.” Seriously, go there, and you will find yourself drowning in delicious and amazing produce of all types. If it grows, chances are it’s grown somewhere in California. This is especially true in the central California region, spanning from Sacramento at the north edge down to north of LA. This region, often referred to collectively as “Central Valley,” hosts a fantastic variety of agricultural operations.
If it grows, you will find it there.
This is just a small section of the farmers market at the Ceasar Chavez park in downtown Sacramento. I had never seen so much fresh, amazing, delicious, locally-grown produce in my life!
country nights, city lights 