Tuesday 23rd of August 2011 07:32 AM
By Kim L. Fritzemeier
KFRM Central Kansas Reporter
Farm Wife along the Stafford/Reno County Line
Maybe if I'd taken off my glasses, I could have pretended I was still in the mountains.
After all there was a mountain - of sorts - at the corner south of our house and matching "foothills" catty-cornered across the section.
There were a few obstacles to this fantasy:
It wasn't so mysterious. My short-lived fantasy was crushed as finely as the limestone the co-op spread on our farm fields. My homespun mountains were there only until the co-op had time to apply agricultural lime to the last field that needed it.
- I certainly didn't need a long-sleeved shirt on my morning trek.
- The "mountain" was surrounded by wheat stubble and not green valleys.
- The mountains mysteriously disappeared in a single afternoon.
Much as I miss the cool of the mountains - both literally and figuratively - I am never sorry to come back home.
We may not have the mountains, but you can't beat the sunrise on the County Line.
Home sweet home!