Lots of Corn

Today took me through Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois and half way through Wisconsin.  Six hundred forty one miles and that's with spending an hour in traffic trying to get through Chicago. 

When I find myself alone with just my thoughts and myself for 24 hours a day, little voices from the past and future start talking to me. I started hearing them as I toured myself through Ohio.  Trust me when I tell you that there will be no corn shortage this year.  I have seen enough corn in 12 hours today to feed every man,woman and child for the summer.  That,however, is not what I found to be the subject of that little voice.  In the distance, I could see the farmhouse with the wrap around porch, barn and silos that are the heart of that farm. I could picture the mom calling the family to breakfast as they sit around and talk about what work needs to be done for the day. All claim ownership of all that needs to be done to make the,farm viable. My father's family were farmers and it gave me a greater understanding of what their lives must have been like. How we all loved going to the farm to visit Grandma and Grandpa Davidson. A little further down the road was a small church with the parking lot bursting with local worshipers.  Faith was and is the basis of the American family. It made me anxious to get back to the things that are really important.  

Further down the road I came to Chicago, an overwhelming sight of buildings and an awesome view of Lake Michigan.  It was during the traffic jams that I started thinking about the diverse populations that make up this great city. I particularly thought about the homeless. How must it feel to have no place to call home and no one to have your back. Are they hungry? Are they in pain? What happens to them?  They all belong to someone. Where did it all go wrong for them?

On the other side of Chicago, back to the cornfields and turf farms. Now the little voice of the future starts talking. Where are you going to stop for the night?  When are you going to arrive at your new home and the  what?  A year from now, five years from snow, what does it all look like?

So much to think about and only me to answer the questions. Save me from myself and call me to chat. Those little voices in my head are exhausting.