Git-R-Done!

I wrote this about two years ago now about a friend of mine named Jeff whom I will always remember.

“Hey Jeff how’s it going.” Man I miss getting to say that. Jeff was a cool guy not to mention easy on the eyes. He had the most amazingly beautiful smile that he’d never quit showing off. I can’t think of a time when I saw him that he wasn’t smiling.
A couple years after we first met my Dad took Jeff hunting at a place where he was doing some dozer work. I begged and pleaded enough that I got to go with them. We never did find anything to actually “hunt”, I guess the deer caught on to us. That evening while our parents talked, Jeff and I went and sat by ourselves on a big pile of dirt. We were the only two kids there so we figured that talking to each other would be better than listening to our folks jabber. We ended up talking for hours that night. It was pretty neat, just me and him under the moonlight. I was only thirteen but I was in love. My Dad would always tease me that I would never forget that night.
Jeff was a little, skinny “aggie” guy who loved huntin’ and raising animals (sounds like two opposites but they actually do work together). He especially loved cattle. He was very active in the local FFA and would raise a steer or heifer or both for the fair every year. One of his dreams was to raise his own herd some day. Sadly he never got that chance.
Jeff’s been gone for going on two years now. He was at a barn dance at a bar, out in the boon docks, with a few of his buddies. They were all drinking beer, something that no eighteen year old should be doing. They weren’t worried because they knew that a friend was going to drive. It was getting late by the time that they finally left. Heading home their driver went to race somebody she knew in another car. It was a dangerous road and she missed a corner launching her new pickup truck. They ended up rolling over four times. Jeff was thrown from the truck on the first roll and crushed, dying instantly. Jeff’s best friend was also killed in the crash. There were two other boys in the back seats and they along with the driver survived but they got banged up pretty bad.
The night after the crash my Dad had talked with my cousin who worked with the boys. When he got of the phone he told me that Jeff was killed in accident the night before. I wouldn’t believe him, I thought that he was just kidding. The worst part was that he wasn’t. Jeff had died at only eighteen. I had dreamed Jeff of ever since I first met him, he couldn’t be gone. He was the only guy who I had hoped to get to spend the rest of my life with.
Jeff was such an amazing person. He made such a difference in my life and others lives as well. I know that’s what everybody says but with Jeff it was honestly true. I don’t think that he really knew how many people he got to influence. He was always there to lend a hand or give you a little encouragement. Jeff was one of those guys that would always make you smile when he was around you.
I never did tell Jeff that I loved him. I was never in his circle of friends. I don’t think that I would have fit in anyhow partially because I didn’t agree with them all drinking so young. I would have probably been to scared to tell him how I felt anyhow. Something that I do know is that his folks teased him about me just as much as my family teased me about him. So at least the feelings were mutual. It helps and hurts knowing that it wasn’t one sided. It’s nice to know that at least he did care and that I wasn’t just another girl that he’d flirt with. Now I’m wishing so hard that I had just told him how I felt and that I loved him. There’s still a thought in the back of my head that perhaps it could have become all that I dreamed.
The hardest part is all of the after thoughts I have. Maybe if I would have been closer to him I could have kept it from happening, that’s wishful thinking though. If I could just punch a rewind button and have him and his friend back I’d do it in a heartbeat. Jeff would be sitting next to me smiling that humongous smile.
But for some reason that wasn’t in God’s plans. I have to make myself understand that this happened for a reason, it just had to. I do know that out of something that seems so horrible that God must have something good come out of it. I just don’t know what that is yet but it has to be something pretty spectacular to have to do with these two guys.
None of this had to happen, but there were too many bad choices. The driver for racing, and Jeff and his friends for drinking alcohol and using bad judgment. A friend asked me if I hated the driver. I am angry with her, but no, I don’t hate her. I’m not too good at hating people. I just wish that she had thought through what she was doing and who’s lives she was entrusted with. She made a stupid decision and it ended up tragically with two best friends getting killed.
I don’t think that a lot of teens, or adults for that matter, even think about drinking. To them it’s something that they just do. Be it because they are trying to hide from something or fit in with a group. So many teens drink because it is “cool” or they don’t think that they can handle the peer pressure of not doing it. Please if you are involved with underage drinking STOP, it’s not worth it, I promise you. These people who scare you or try and talk you into drinking are not your friends. Think about the consequences of what might happen or who you might hurt. Because you aren’t just hurting yourself you’re also hurting all of the people who care and love you.
I hope that Jeff’s story will help others to think about what they are doing whether it be drinking under age, street racing or anything of the sort. I also hope that if you love someone that you tell them. Not just somebody that you’ve got a crush on, but anybody that you love or care about. Because I know how bad it hurts to have never told that someone.
Jeff’s motto was “Git-R-Done#” and that is what we will do for him, we’ll get it done. Anybody who knew the boys will never, ever, be able to forget Jeffrey or his buddy, which I’m glad of. They were too special to just forget. We’ll always remember those two unforgettable smiles. I think that when they died that God entrusted everybody that they left behind to do their work of spreading those smiles around. I’ve been doing my best but it can still be hard for me sometimes.
My sister and I go and bug Jeff’s Mom, Arlene, whenever we can. She still drives Jeffrey’s old brown, Chevy pickup everywhere because it helps her to still feel close to him. It always puts a smile on my face to pull up and see it sitting outside of her work. When we see Arlene, we always talk at least a little bit about Jeff. I think that it helps her to know how much of an impact he had on our lives and how special he really was.
Before Jeff died, he had bought a steer to take to the fair the following year. After he passed on instead of selling the steer his parents decided to raise him and sell him in Jeff’s memory. All of the money raised from the sale would be put into a scholarship fund for FFA students. They named the critter “Six Foot” after Jeff’s High School nickname. He got the name from playing water polo when he was younger, and shorter. The other kids said that even though he was short he would play like he was six foot tall. When the fair came it was time to sell Six Foot at the livestock auction. This was the amazing part - when Six Foot walked into the sales ring every single bidding paddle in the room went up, there were a couple hundred. Everyone wanted to be a part of the sale and make a donation to the memorial fund. Because there was such an outpouring of support, they allowed anybody who wanted to, to donate $1 for every pound that the steer weighed. In the end thirty seven buyers participated, along with numerous other smaller contributions netting $41,033.
No one envisioned this awe-inspiring outcome. Talk about a special end to the sale. I guess that out of such a tragedy something good did end up happening. All of the money raised will impact lives of young people for many years to come. It’s neat to know that even after he’s gone he’s still affecting our lives. I know that he’s still in my heart and in my life every day. When I’m having a bad day I just remember to get it done and smile while I’m at it, for Jeff.
Jeff and his friends’ memory will be with us for the rest of our lives. I have to thank God for letting me know and love this very special guy. I’ll see you in heaven, bud.


I do have to say though that this is one of the "God blessed the broken road that lead me straight to you" things though, If not for loosing Jeff I never would have met my true love. . . Thanks Lord you do have it all figured out ♥

T100

I wrote this story for a High School report and it just made me smile:)

We’ve had the Toyota for years now and it’s been mine since I started to drive. My Dad had to get it because his old Chevy actually blew up, yeah not good, anyway back to the Toy as we call it. It’s not a big pickup, yet it’s not as small as my sisters Ranger (which I can never help but let her forget.) It’s really the perfect size because it’s small enough to be easy to park and maneuver but big enough that you feel safe in it. It’s got a long bed but has a standard size cab. It’s kind of a sandy brown sparkly color with the paint peeling off of the cab showing primer grey. One of the biggest things about it is that it’s a five speed stick shift, making it really entertaining to learn to drive when you are a kid.
This thing has so many stories it could tell. I think that the first incident to happen had to do with my Grandpa. He was driving my pickup as a pilot car for my Dad, who was moving a dirt mover/scraper /very BIG tractor, down Vineyard Drive. Well these particular tractors don’t have any brakes and Grandpa decided to stop right in front of my Dad. It didn’t cause too much damage, just creasing in the back bumper and breaking out one of the taillights so it did survive.
For my poor little pickup’s sake I wish that was it but it just keeps going, sigh. My family was on vacation and my Grandpa (yup the same one) borrowed the Toy to get some cows in. It’s a 4x4 and can get you anywhere in any weather, yeah it’s a good little pickup. Him, being my Grandpa that he is, got a little impatient with one of our cows and tried to "hurry it along" by pushing it. He didn’t hurt the cow but now there is a rather nice dent right in the middle of my hood.
The next thing was when my dad put a thirteen foot long, 1,300 pound, Cat D9 ripper shank in the bed. I think that it was a little too heavy because it bowed the bed in so much that the tailgate won’t stay on any more. So now I’m using a couple of two by sixes screwed together as a temporary fix.
Luckily I’ve only added one "flaw" to it. Once when I was really little and I couldn’t see where I was going all to well I scraped the right side of it on a green a gate. If you would have been there you could’ve seen why I did it: Short kid + long pickup x sharp corner > pretty gate = Trouble. So now there is a rather nice shade of green making a beautiful stripe along one side of my pickup. I’m glad that I like green.
This thing should be terrified of tractors by now because it’s worst injury came from my Dad’s Excavator. He was moving his excavator over a hill to another work site and had an extra bucket to take along. He couldn’t safely carry it with him so he thought that he would just gently set it in the back of the Toy and be off, wrong. While he was trying to put it in one side slipped out and it fell into the bed, bouncing off both sides of the bed railing as it went down. It ended up bending the sides in even more than the ripper shank had and left a few rather large holes in the wheel wells.
I think the most recent ordeal included a can of undercoating. For those of you who don’t know what that is, picture spray on tar, it’s NASTY stuff, anyway… Dad jumped into the Toy and slid the seat back really quick. (I always had to have the seat slid all the way forward when I was younger so that I could reach the pedals, remember short kid here.) Well there just happened to be one of these awful cans of undercoating behind the seat. When the seat slid back it smashed the can and made it explode, no joke. It made a Huge mess and totally killed the drivers’ side seatbelt clip. We were finally able to track down a replacement although it’s grey not brown , it is nice to have a seatbelt that works again though.
As for the inside it’s seen some hard times too. The horn only works when it wants too. You can’t read what the radio station is. The speaker covers have popped off and the speakers themselves are starting to fall out of the doors. The windshield has little metal B B’s imbedded in it from someone welding to close to it. And the seat hasn’t had a much better life. Most of the foam from the drivers side of the seat has been torn out from people getting in and out in a hurry. Having a pair of pliers or some other tool in your back pocket while you are doing it probably hasn’t done it any good either. Now people say that it is an "anatomically correct seat" you come to your own conclusion on that one.
Other than the cosmetic body damage though it’s actually in pretty good shape. It only has about 65,000 miles on it and for a ninety four that’s not to bad. Those were some pretty hard miles tough. I feel bad for my pickup because everybody is always making fun of it. Especially because of that pink and purple curly ribbon still on the antenna from last September, oh well. This pickup has been good to me and I’m thank full for it. One of these days it would maybe be nice to replace the bed with a wooden flat bed though.
Who wants to take bets on how long it would take for someone to catch it on fire?

Smile

I just found this. I wrote it down like about a year ago and it just reminded me about all of my blessings. These aren't necessarily things that I have done, some are, but more so some things that I would dream of doing. . .
Here ya go. . . .


Lay outside and watch the stars. Run through the sprinklers. Go on a walk to old buildings and find old stuff like antique bottles. Get flowers, Gerber Daisies, from a boy, wrapped in newspaper, like they do at farmers market. Watch the sunset from the top of a huge hill. Decorate gingerbread houses. Sleep out in the middle of no where under the stars. Go to small town random pet stores and play with the puppies. Make a scavenger hunt and take pictures with everything on the list. Go to a park. Cartwheel across a room. Send a message in a bottle. Make a fort in the living room. Go thrift store shopping. Go to garage sales. Roast marshmallows. Go hot tubbing. Spend a day with a dolphin and it’s trainer and be able to play with it all day. Walk on train tracks. Lay on the grass and find shapes and animals in the sky. Take a plane. Take a helicopter. Build a sand castle. Try to surf. Listen to music. Make obstacle courses through my yard. Get really cuddly in a blanket with food and watch a movie. Be spontaneous. Go out to breakfast and eat French toast covered with powdered sugar. Get dressed up and go out for a date-dinner and movie. Get my cartilage pierced. Buy a pizza for the first homeless person I see. Drive in a Mustang with the top down laughing and listening to music. Go snorkeling in tropical water. Ride a dirt bike up a steep hill and make it. Catch a thirty-two inch bass. Target practice with .22’s. Get all dressed up and go out dancing all night long. Hike up a local mountain. Learn to ride horses. Read a really sappy book. Watch funny movies. Have a surprise Birthday party. Take beanie babies to the ICU and pass them out. Make mud pies. Light candles in my room. Take a missions trip to Mexico. Go bowling and wear silly shoes. Decorate and shop for Christmas. Go caroling to my neighbors houses. Try on every pair of sunglasses in a store. Play in the snow. Get my pickup stuck. Coffee, nuf’ said. Climb a tree. Dance in the rain. Talk to a stranger. Love. Help a little old lady cross the street. Walk barefoot. Laugh until I cry. Learn to dive off of a diving board. Eat an entire container of ice-cream all by myself. Visit the rose parade. Volunteer in a kids Sunday school class. Go on a road trip to who knows where. Go to a NASCAR race. Add a little sparkle to someone’s life. Carve a humongous pumpkin. People watch. Grow a sunflower forest. Play baseball with black walnuts and sticks. Catch fireflies in a jar.

Well.......

So here's my first ever Blog:)
Anyway I'm a farmer (in case you were wondering) and my family owns a farmstore in rural California.
Visit our web site for more info Jack Creek Farms or just stop by and see us!