THE WAY OUT HERE

Evenin’ dreamin’

BY HUNTER HILL
Posted 8/3/22

Gas prices being what they are, I’m not one to exacerbate the touchy subject of my weekly fuel budget by making unnecessary trips. If you are one of the few who didn’t waste money on the Mega Millions lottery recently, you may share this practical concern. Quite simply, it is to save gas and attempt to be efficient.

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THE WAY OUT HERE

Evenin’ dreamin’

Posted

Gas prices being what they are, I’m not one to exacerbate the touchy subject of my weekly fuel budget by making unnecessary trips. If you are one of the few who didn’t waste money on the Mega Millions lottery recently, you may share this practical concern. Quite simply, it is to save gas and attempt to be efficient. 

For those playing the lottery… keep at it; you’ll fill your tank one day, I’m sure.

In all seriousness though, I try not to do any more driving than I have to. As it is, I drive a few hundred miles a week between regular commuting, running materials between the farm and our vegetable stand, and making deliveries for work. 

Recently, I had finished what had already been a long day and arrived home for the evening to hopefully relax, have dinner and go to bed. 

Upon taking my shoes off and popping the footrest on my chair, an epiphany hit me like a rude slap to the back of my head. I had left several boxes at our farm stand that needed to go elsewhere with me early the next morning. 

To accompany this revelation, my youngest decided that after receiving a fresh diaper, milk, food, cuddles, playtime, etc. that he would simply cry and not go to sleep or settle down for the night. 

I honestly had no prior plans to leave the house at all again that day, but as they say, my plans are not the Lord’s plans. So I shortly found myself loading the baby into his car seat and getting ready to leave, despite it being past both our bedtimes. (Yes, I have a bedtime: No, I never get there by said time.)

As I pulled out, the sun was setting, and although I didn’t want to be on the road again, my son very quickly and mercifully settled down and fell asleep. I continued to the stand to get my boxes, and made the return trip home, driving a tad slow but enjoying the lack of traffic around me. 

I had the window cracked for a bit of fresh evening air, and I could hear my son softly breathing/snoring in the back seat. He was already where I wanted to be: snoozing and enjoying a cerebral cinematic production—aka dreaming. 

He’s just seven months old. I’m curious what he could be dreaming about, but as soundly as he slept, it could only be good things. 

As for me, I was still driving, but I had a bit of dreaming going on as well. After several great weeks of productive blueberry picking, my mind has been swirling with my never-ending to-do list and all the goals and adjustments I had in mind for the coming year: Fixing our irrigation, growing other vegetables, mentally comparing value-added products from the store, and many other things. 

My mind is always dreaming about this, always working to come up with solutions to temporary problems and make our overall farm situation better. This was all just a daydream not so long ago. Having begun dating my wife at the age of 16, I’ve made a handful of promises which I intend to live up to. Primarily, I promised her we would always have a farm to work, and try to live a life that allows us to maintain our liberties, both as farmers and as folks who just enjoy good clean country fun. 

The way out here, we make our dreams come true. No matter the situation with our country or economy, there’s nothing that can deter us from living the way God intended. It may be considered a character flaw by some, but we stick with our dreams despite the apparent cost, and our dreams stick with us as a reminder throughout the day. Perhaps that’s what my little guy is dreaming about after all—farming with his daddy.

gas, story, baby, feel good

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