Unlike the Florida piece, this is something I definitely need in the memoir. Perhaps this piece in particular isn't it, but something like this needs to be added in (probably under Family Relationships). Also, if there are more simple sentences and grammar errors than usual, that's because when I first began writing this, I was sleep deprived and worried. I had to keep an orphaned calf alive almost single-handedly, and that thing wasn't easy to take care of. Also, I figured I might put the stuff about Nebraska in a piece titled "Nebraska". I kept the stuff that happened in Nebraska before I arrived to Minnesota for context, but left out the stuff that went on when I returned to Nebraska after Minnesota. 

I came to Minnesota to do two things; visit family and actually relax for once. At home, it's just been go, go, go! I got my driver's license, and my eyes checked out, have been trying to fix my car so I won't get sick or soaked when it rains, working a lot downtown, writing, drawing, painting, and still finding some time to play video games and sleep for my downtime. The one thing that kept me going was the trip to Minnesota. I figured I could rest a lot there, so at home, I worked myself harder than a workhorse in a thunderstorm. After all, I only expected to see family occasionally, but planned to lay around the farm all day most of the time, relaxing alone on the lawn in the shade, cloud watching while listening to the birds chirp, cows bellow, and wind whispering in the trees. I brought my dirtbike as a main source of entertainment since I assumed that I'd be left to my own devices while everyone else worked. As of now (I'm leaving tomorrow), I've only ridden my dirtbike a total of 3 hours. Clearly, I've been preoccupied with other things!

My maternal grandparents, grandpa Lyle (biological grandpa) and grandma Connie (married-in grandma) took me to Minnesota this time. Before my grandpa Bob (paternal grandpa) passed away, my parents were pretty adamant about keeping my maternal family separate from my paternal family. My parents' divorce raised a lot of turmoil between them, and they felt the need to pass that turmoil down to my grandparents, aunts, and uncles, though nobody besides my parents and their partners ever fought. In fact, both sides of my family stayed in touch, always wondering what the other side was up to, but in a healthy, loving way, despite knowing about every little thing that went on between my parents. 

My parents had a lot of bitterness towards each other, and their new partners seemed to add fuel to that fire. Most of the arguments my parents had between each other were over very petty things, such as picking me up and/or dropping me off one minute too late or too early, or forgetting to send me home with one of my medications, even though both of my parents always had an endless supply of medication for me stored in the pantry and delivered to both houses weekly. A lot of gossiping went on in both houses too, especially between my stepmom and her friends, where she ripped on my mom for "not doing enough" for me within earshot of me, which understandably pissed me off. I'd often go home to my mom and vent about what my stepmom said about her. Otherwise, I never really got involved in their stupid little arguments or listened in on the gossip. I just accepted it as a part of life and did my best to stay out of everything. I only got involved in more serious issues, especially those that threatened to shorten my time spent with family.

But, since my grandpa Bob passed, my parents have been hit with a massive wake-up call. Their parents won't live forever, and whenever I beg to go to the farm, I ought to be allowed to go, regardless of how I get there, or who brings me. I'm still pretty upset that my parents didn't realize that until after I lost my grandpa Bob, with whom I was very close with, but at least I can enjoy my grandma Shirley, and the rest of the family, and the farm, whenever I want, as much as I want, so long as I have a way to get there. It was amazing to watch the hatchet get buried after so many years. For the first time in my life, I saw my parents hug it out shortly after grandpa was laid to rest in the land he loved so much. They also cut the gossiping, and have managed to have friendly, and even affectionate conversations between each other. Obviously, my parents will never ever get together again, but at least they've grown up so I don't have to be the one who tells my mom what my dad wants from her and vise versa.

Since my maternal grandparents were gracious enough to drive me to Minnesota, we figured we'd stop by my grandma Connie's sister's farm, which was right smack dab in the middle of our journey. Grandma's sister, Cindy, and her husband Greg, live near the sleepy little town of Winside, Nebraska, just a half-hour from the Iowa border. On their farm, they grow a lot of sweet corn and raise a lot of beef cattle, mainly angus. They also have a couple of dogs and an obnoxious donkey called Peanut, who protects the newborn calves and calving mothers from coyotes. It's a lot like my paternal family's farm, just a lot smaller, and not nearly as exciting. 

For pretty much all of the drive to Nebraska, I slept, or at the very least, day-dreamed as I stared out the window and listened to music. The caffeine I got from three cans of diet Mountain Dew just wasn't enough to keep my eyes open. My body forced me into a deep, dreamless sleep, even though I fought against it hard, while my grandparents drove us across hundreds of miles of flat, endless prairie. 

My grandpa woke me up when we were 30 miles away from the farm. The flat sagebrush prairie I'd fallen asleep to was replaced by rolling green croplands for as far as my eyes could see. He dangled the keys in front of my face as I stretched and rubbed the grogginess from my eyes. I'd promised to take on the last stretch of every drive. Once I stretched every muscle, cracked every bone, yawned several times, and cleared my throat, I was awake, alert, and ready to drive. 

The first 25 miles were pretty easy. There was one stoplight on the whole highway, so for the most part, I kept my foot down on the pedal and an eye out for the law. While I'm technically a licensed driver, I'm not supposed to be driving without glasses, and if I get pulled over and the cops see I'm not wearing them, I could get a pretty big ticket, or even arrested in some states. But, at that point in time, the law did not matter to me. I was hellbent to finish the day's drive. I can still see the world just fine. It's just reading road signs that gives me trouble. So, while I drove, my grandpa used landmarks instead of road names to guide me. 

When we turned onto gravel roads, I felt myself tense up as I quickly skidded to a stop. The road that lay ahead of me was nothing like anything I'd driven before. It was only wide enough for one car to drive on at a time, except it was a two-way road. There were deep grassy ditches on either side of the road, which if I were to slide off at any point, or even just pull over, gravity would've gotten the better of all of us. To top it all off, the gravel on the road was very loose, making it slippery and much harder for me to safely drive. 

Instead of putting it in park and calling it quits like I used to do when I got scared behind the wheel, I clenched my teeth, tightened my fists around the steering wheel, and gave 'er hell over the rolling hills of God's country. The wild country girl within me was awakened the moment our tires hit gravel, erasing any fear or worry I've ever had about driving. For a brief moment in time, I totally trusted myself behind the wheel! Someway, somehow, we made it to the Nebraska farm in one piece. My grandparents looked a little scared out of their minds, but expressed how proud of me they were anyway. 

At the farm, I was immediately greeted by a friendly mutt called Jet. He startled me because he basically came out of nowhere, but I relaxed knowing he was friendly. But, before I could really enjoy him, I was called over to help unpack, which included bringing in several boxes of fresh peaches for Cindy. I never got to know my grandma Connie's side of the family. I'd never been to that farm or even interacted with most of the people. I was quiet and nervous. As soon as I had the two boxes of peaches on the kitchen counter, I retreated back outside to play with Jet while I waited for more orders. 

Outside, the air was warm and fresh. Hordes of butterflies swarmed the flowers and the lawn around me. I'd never seen so many butterflies in one place before! While I was busy harassing the butterflies in an orange lily bush, Greg came out with my grandpa holding a massive dinner plate with big, juicy steaks stacked on top of it. I trailed the men to the grill with Jet by my side, and watched with a watery mouth while Greg laid the steaks on the grill. He seasoned all but one of them, because I wanted nothing more than a rare, unseasoned steak after a long day of driving. 

Around this time, the rest of the family, with their three little kids arrived. The oldest was four, and the youngest was just a few months old, and they were quite the noisy bunch. I did my best to navigate the house without running over one of the kids. For some reason, they wanted to play with me after dinner and refused to leave me alone. Now, I don't really play. I honestly don't even know how. So, I was the most boring source of entertainment those two little toddlers could ever have. Yet they were absolutely fascinated by me, more specifically, by my cowboy hat, which I was wearing. I gave them my hat to play with for a bit while I leaned back on the couch and relaxed, only to be interrupted by Cash, the family hunting dog, who also wanted attention. 

Thankfully, Greg finally rescued me from the chaos! He asked me to go with him to test out electric fences in a pasture he owned about a mile from the house. Obviously, if testing electric fences meant I'd have to touch them, I wouldn't have gone. But, I knew I'd be testing them by shocking a hammer, so I wouldn't feel anything.