Are you listening?

This past weekend we were lucky enough to sell our soap at the Rushville Steam Engine Show in Rushville, Indiana.  We loved having the opportunity to share our soap, our family, and our goats with the many wonderful people there.  Growing up on a farm, I have always loved farm machinery.  For a while when I was younger, I wanted to be a farm mechanic!  So, seeing all the steam engines (big and small), the antique tractors, and old implements was fascinating to me.  And I couldn't help but miss my Grandpa whom we lost almost two years ago, and who would have loved going to this show.

One of the big steam engines we got to see

While at shows, our main goal is obviously to sell our soap, so we do a lot of sharing with people about our soaps and our farm, and why we do what we do.  But I find that it's so much more fun if I do the listening.  We are blessed to get to travel around and meet so many great people, and sometimes I get so absorbed trying to sell "us" to others, I forget that fact.  If I had been too focused on myself this weekend, I would have missed so many wonderful stories.

I would have missed the woman who, while taking a shift at the booth next to ours, told us that a little over a year ago, she started feeling a little more tired than normal.  When she went to the doctor, she found out she had colon cancer.  She's now in remission, 55 pounds smaller, but still lively and smiling.  You would never have guessed she'd been sick if you didn't know her.  I heard her tell someone else, "I've been walking with a cane, but I decided this weekend, I was going to go without it.  I told myself I'm going to do it."  If that's not motivating, what is?

I would have missed the two brothers, probably in their 50's, who when looking at an antique boot scraper at the booth on the other side of ours, said to me, "You probably have never had dirty boots have you?"  When I informed them that as a matter of fact, we milk dairy goats, and I do have to scrape my muddy boots, they both started cracking up.  I was puzzled.  They then proceeded to tell me that when they were boys, they had to milk 35 dairy cows.  When they were done milking the cows, they had to milk one Nubian goat--"that old brown goat," they called it.  One brother said, "It took us longer to milk that one brown goat than 35 cows.  We had to chase it all around the barn, and that was with it chained to a cement block!  Once we caught it, we had to tie its head up tight to the fence and put a rope around its gut just to milk the stupid thing."  The other brother said, "But you know, looking back, it made Dad popular with the neighbors.  If a neighbor baby had colic or something, Dad would give them the milk to drink.  We worked so hard, and Dad just gave that milk away!" But he said it with a smile.  You knew they were proud of their generous father.  "It taught us to never give up," the first brother said as they walked away, "But neither one of us have ever owned another goat!"

I would have missed the young woman from Chicago who said she wanted some goats.  "But, if I ever live someplace where I can have animals, the first thing I'm going to get is a camel.  And I'm going to ride it.  Wouldn't that be the coolest thing ever?"  Dream on sister!  I hope someday you get your camel.

I would have missed another older woman taking a shift beside us who after hearing how Greg and I met, said it reminded me of her courtship with her husband, whose name I can't remember now.  "He was the older brother of my best friend.  I couldn't stand him because he always called me Porky because I was fat.  He couldn't stand us because he had to drive us around everywhere.  I spent so much time with his family because his sister was my best friend.  I called his aunts and uncles "Aunt so and so" and "Uncle so and so" because we were that close, but I never paid any attention to him.  It just took me a while to realize he was more than just my best friend's big brother."

I would have missed the lady across the aisle who gave me some advice on growing herbs.  "You ought to just try it next year," she said when I told her it's one thing I'd always wanted to do, but had never ventured doing.  "Just get you a little pot that you can keep close to the house, that way it will be easier for you to take care of it."  With her encouragement, I probably will.

I would have missed meeting Bruce and Kay, the owners of a gigantic Russell steam engine and many Model T's.  "We get all the machinery and cars out at Christmas and light them all up.  People come for miles around just to see it."  She knew the people selling across the aisle and would sit with them part of the day.  She enjoyed watching the boys' antics--you know, those little things they do that I find myself getting so irritated with, like their loud voices, their restlessness, their touching-everything-they-see-ness.  Yet to her, they were cute and amusing.  It made me realize how I should be more patient with my children sometimes and find joy in their craziness.  Her husband also offered to give us a ride on the steam engine, but we couldn't quite fit it in our schedule on Sunday.  Hopefully next year, and we might be one of those families coming for miles around to see the lights, Kay.  I really hope we can meet again.

I would have missed the older gentlemen who came to buy his wife a bar of soap.  He had his farm clothes on and walked with two walking sticks.  He wanted help picking out a scent for her.  He didn't think she'd like the oatmeal bar because she didn't like things that were scratchy.  "You know how women are," he said to Greg with a laugh. Then he turned to me.  "But let me tell you something.  Ten years into our marriage, my wife looked at me and said, 'You're not the same man I married.'  I asked her what she wanted to do about it.  Most people nowadays would get a divorce.  But, she told me, 'On the first of the month, I want you to go get a boxed lunch, and we're going to park.  Then I'm going to tell you one thing I don't like about you, and you're going to tell me one thing you don't like about me.'  And we did.  And we spent the whole month working on that one thing.  We did that every month for years.  And let me tell you, she's 80-some years now, and as pretty as you are, I wouldn't trade her for two of you!"  Nothing better than marriage advice from someone who's done it for over fifty years.  I wish I could have met his wife.

You don't have to travel to craft shows to meet interesting people.  How many stories are you missing because you aren't listening?  Because you're too busy with your own worries?  Often times, we get the best advice and encouragement when we aren't even looking, as long as our ears are open and our mouths are shut.  Thank you to the Rushville Pioneer Engineer's Club for a wonderful weekend.  We can't wait until next year, and we won't be coming just to sell our soap.  We'll be ready to listen.