Back on the Farm

Rob and Rebecca were back in rural Illinois for a birthday party. They traveled all the way from Boulder, Colorado, not for just any birthday party, but a surprise party for Rob's great aunt who was turning 95. Rob's midwest family has had an up and down year.
On one hand, this special relative was nearing the milestone of 100 years of life upon the blessed great American plains. Farming is good. Ethanol, for all its water quality destruction, and despite the fact that its actually an energy negative endeavor, has gained favor with politicians who have trumpeted it as the key to breaking our fossil fuel dependence. This boom in ethanol is driving up the price of corn and, subsequently, land values. Indeed, farming is good, even if is based on an essential farce, and denies any ecological repercussions.
Tough times hit the family this year in the form of Rob's grandmother passing away at the ripe old age of 97. She got to see most of the bad times of farming, sadly missing the ethanol boom. Rob has been back to Illinois several times in the past few months, first for a health alert, then for a funeral, and later for an estate closing where he was named as a beneficiary. For the fourth time in 2008, Rob is back, although this time, his live in girlfriend was in-tow. With midwest farmers come midwest virtues, and here we arrive at a funny exchange:
Rob and Rebecca are speaking to the guest of honor, Great Auntie Rose.
"Rosie, this is my girlfriend Rebecca."
"Oh!" Rose exclaims from under thinning gray hair and behind oversized party sunglasses, complete with yellow lenses and large lettering over the eyes that exclaims 'Happy Birthday'. "And what are you two doing?"
"We'll, sorry Rosie, but I have to say. We're living together in Boulder."

I'll add that, as a veteran of careful conversing with my own grandparents; Catholic, ex Air Force farmers and parents of nine children, I'd have avoided the whole "living together" bomb.

"Well Robert, I'm so glad you introduced me to your fiancé."
"Girlfriend."
"Fiancé."

For the rest of the evening, as Rob and Rebecca would meet other party goers, Rob would specifically name Rebecca as his girlfriend while Rose would stand behind his shoulder and whisper, "fiancé."

Later, she asked what the couple was planning in the future, besides getting married of course.
This happens to be a bit of a sore subject, as Rebecca has explicitly stated that she wants to get married and have a kid, preferably yesterday. Rob isn't sure he knows what to do, and I'm no help. My advice usually is on the fence, and the best I can do is hint that he'll never find a smarter, more charming woman who will put up with his dutch ovens, drive by wet-willies, and rock climbing habit as Reb. By the way, Rob's 37.

"Well, we're talking about getting married and maybe kids. We'll see."
"That's fine, as long as there's no abortions."

Rosie layin' down the law.

And on a related note, I'm wondering when my next trip to my family's farm should be. My grandfather and I were on the phone the other day chatting and catching up when he told me he and grandma were planning on having a bunch of the kids to the farm for Thanksgiving. With 9 kids and 28 grandkids, the permutations of who will be there comes out to something like 475, which is tough because I'm really only close with about 6 of them. The rest are either too young, too nice, or too religious. I haven't made any firm plans, but I don't have a damn clue what to do.
Besides a farm invite, my father and stepmother are headed to Montana for fly fishing at the Bighorn. Typically, I'd jump all over that, and I'm just happy to be back on the team after Greece. But I know that it'll come across as kind of crummy if I bail on my mom's side of the family for a more exciting trip with my dad. Most exciting is a third invite to go to Red Rocks for climbing, which looks great except that Kate's birthday is the Saturday before Thanksgiving, and that's when the Red Rocks ride is slated for takeoff. I could try to go to the East Coast with Kate to visit her family, as I did last year, but then I'd feel extra toadish for bailing on all of my own family. What's a boy to do. I think I'll figure out a way to go climbing....shocker.