"It's a sign..."

...I don't know where I'm gonna look, but I'm gonna find my purpose."

I had a not-so-great day yesterday. It wasn't bad, but I was not happy by any means. Even the 45 minute massage that Nick gave me did not dent what was making me unhappy. I woke up this morning thinking, "Man, today is probably going to be a simple extension of yesterday and will suck too." Then I walked out my door.

Perfectly centered on the floor right outside my front door was possibly one of the best things I could find.

A penny.

A small, copper circle with a President's face emblazoned on the front. Not worth much, but to me, it was just what I needed. I am not overly supersticious, but this was different. It seriously looked like someone had placed this penny specifically for me outside my door and had bent down to center it; it was not even turned--Abe's face was turned neither to the right nor left but simply looked up at me. It was like someone else knew that I needed a little luck today.

Sure, the penny could have fallen from someone's purse while they fumbled for their keys, could have leapt from a pocket, could have been the casuality of an uncoordinated youngster. But I don't think so. Something else was governing that penny's existence outside my door on a day that I needed it more than most. For that, I am grateful.

"In my neck of the woods I'm just the girl next door...

...I'm a redneck woman."

As I was driving home from the Pipestone County Fair the other night, I had a realization: me, my family, my friends, and my community are all a little bit trashy. How did I come to this realization? I went to a Truck and Tractor Pull. Not only did I go, but I sat in the pits. And I cheered. I cheered for the local farmers as they showed off their toys and I cheered for the hardcore state pullers who drove numerous hours to get more points to raise themselves in the standings. I enjoyed myself. And the rest of the county (or at least it seemed like it) enjoyed themselves too.

Additionally, I was mad that I had to miss the Enduro Race two nights previous to the Truck and Tractor Pull. I haven't missed the Enduro in 5 years...I love watching the trashy cars go around in circles as parts fall off and engines smoke. This year there was even a full-blown fire and I missed it(the guy in the car was mostly okay, but got taken to the hospital)! I was mad about this. I think this points to the redneck side of me as well.

And the thing is, that this is me. This is not something I can escape. I can go to college, go on to get a Masters and a PhD, but I will still be a Pipestone County farm girl. I will still be a girl who loves getting dirty out in the barn, can throw a haybay into the back of a truck, can drive a pickup and trailer, knows how to administer shots to a heifer, and cheers when a green or red tractor pulls the Ironman 223.3 feet.

I started reading a new book last night, and I reached a passage that really hit home (literally and figuratively). It said, "[Y]ou can't leave home. You can go other places, all right--you can live on the other side of the world, but you can't ever leave home." And I don't want to leave home; I will move away and start a family of my own, but I know I will never want to leave.