"Who's For Eva Braun Here; Who Wants To Burn Books?!?"

I have absolutely no time to write a blog. That's exactly why I'm going to do it. Being in charge of things sucks, y'all. I need to write.

I was just watching Field of Dreams last night, because of course I was, and I was thinking it's the perfect summer movie.

All that dusty sunlight, the crickets in the background, the relaxed, loose cotton wardrobe that was the norm on farms in the late 80's, everything. I absolutely love everything about that movie. The authenticity of what a small farm town mill looks like (the scene when Ray goes to pick up supplies and ask other farmers if they've heard voices) right down to Patsy Cline playing in the background while the old farmers socialize and talk shop. Ray's perfectly work jeans that appear to be his uniform. Annie pouring a baking pan full of Tater Tots to cook for dinner's side dish. The small-minded PTA meeting that Annie revolutionizes. (Annie is my idol, if you didn't get that)

This art directer outdid himself. That farmhouse is perfection. You can tell that its residents are forward-thinking individuals that really just wanted to live on a farm. The rich colors and art placed around the house, they loved it there.  It's more than functional, it's aesthetically pleasing as well and that's not incredibly common in midwest farm houses unless you're talking paintings of other farms and fake flowers.

I just love it. I love the light they captured. Watching this movie literally makes me feel 9 years old again, out in the middle of nowhere, when putting on overalls and eating a hot dog in your side yard while watching random men play baseball would have been absolutely thrilling. I could have been Karen. Our yard and the fields around our house and the woods next door - that was my scene and I really didn't ever feel like leaving it back then. I didn't want to go to Kalamazoo, I didn't want to go shopping, I needed nothing except snacks and outdoor adventures.

When I watch that movie, I can almost smell the late August corn. The way it smells very earthy and rich, especially after it rains. The smell of fresh cut grass and the sound of hog feeders clanking shut off in the distance. I miss it. I miss that simplicity.

"Is this heaven?"
"No...it's Michigan."