WNN0438

My next door neighbor, Jesse, and I enjoy reminiscing about our farm childhoods. Only those who were lucky enough to spend their youth in rural Kansas can exchange the unique stories that accompany such a lifestyle: hour long drives to get warm pizza, burning the trash, walking for miles in any direction before finding your nearest neighbor, a gas station in your own back yard (or in our case, an ice skating rink), any relative in a 30-mile radius was your "best friend" and so on...

This particular evening, Jesse and I were talking about the technology of farm living. He was actually admitting that he recognizes the utility of cell phones in the farm setting and didn't know what they ever did without them. Which quickly led us both to laugh about the days of radios and walkie-talkies. And before I even realized the random sequence of numbers and letters that were entering my head, I blurted them out: WNN0438. And there they were. The numbers of my childhood. Those numbers flooded back memories of me radio'ing back to the house because I had stalled the four-wheeler somewhere and couldn't restart it; taking a call from dad who was in a hot tractor somewhere letting us know he'd be home soon; Brandon and Devin getting into walkie-talkie fights about who knows what...I even remember a time when we took the walkie-talkies on vacation and I got in trouble for spouting out the code. To this day I'm not sure why that was bad. Maybe someone can fill me in?

Aww farm life. I wouldn't trade that upbringing for the most privileged childhood in the world. And I mean that (just in case mom or dad wants to challenge me on that statement...)