Don't Look over the Fence

Coming back from Chicago Sis and I did our usual thing. I drove and she piloted. We went off of the main highways to two lane roads several times to make our route more direct. Sis does not like it when we are heading south and the highway heads sharply north before turning south once more. At that point we get off the main freeway and see America so to speak. 

On this last trip I met a woman staying behind one of our hotels with her family in their camper. She had several little dogs and we connected first with dog talk. I then discovered that she and her husband were migrant workers. They were in the area to harvest wheat. The near fields needed another day or two before harvesting so she and hubby and in laws spent time around their camp. From Kansas they would head further north continuing to stop and harvest as they went. These farms were yearly stops and work areas. She was very upbeat and friendly and accepted her life as normal. I wonder what it would be like to spend most of the year traveling in a camper as your home and going from farm to farm to work. Sometimes they would stay on the property of where they were working but not all of the farmers wanted them to do that. She stated that she preferred leaving the property and going to their own camp. 

When I say RV I do not mean one of those mammoth beasts that pull yachts and jeeps and are as big as a bus. Their RV was one of modest room pulled behind an old pickup. They depended on the seasons and crops to live. Life on the road. It sounds romantic and free. I am not sure that is true. I need to spend more time looking at all of the good things in my own life and appreciating them. My lady found happiness in simply being with her husband and making ends meet. That is the life she knew and was accepting that and making it a good one. I need to do the same in my own life. I have to stop looking over the fence so to speak and see how green my own grass is growing.