Idaho

I was driving along the highway a few days ago when my attention was captured by a tractor disking up a field. I noticed that while the lines were mostly straight, they were not ramrod straight and I knew that he did not have a GPS in his tractor. It made me smile, because his lines looked like the lines I used to make. It made me miss the farm. I will admit though, it is pretty fun when you tell people you are from Idaho and they ask, "Do you grow potatoes?" in a sarcastic voice, I can respond," Yes!" I don't know that my prideful yes helps with the stereotype Idahoans have, but that is alright. I love that even in Indiana, I have neighbors with Idaho license plates still on their cars. There is a camaraderie with these fellow Idahoans. We had Idaho parties where we eat potato chips and see who still knows all the words to "And Here We Have Idaho." And if these Idahoans are from SouthEast Idaho and I tell them that I am a Reed, as in Reed's Dairy, I am instantly famous! (True my dad doesn't run the dairy, but I still bask in the glory of being the second cousin of the man who produces the best ice cream in the West.) Now that you know what a nerdy, prideful Idahoan I am, don't hold it against me. It is true Idaho is bitter cold and we only have two representatives in the House, but it sure is a great place to grow up.