Independence Daze

The Prairie Muffin Manifesto

You are reading this page perhaps because you are curious why my blog exists. You, my friend, are in luck.

According to urbandictionary.com, a prairie muffin is:

“A woman who homesteads in a rural area and devotes her lives to homemaking under her husband.”

Funny thing is, I’m not married. I’ve hardly acted in a way that is parallel to a prairie muffin. I’m twenty-one years old, going on twenty-two. I lived most of my life scattered across the metropolitan areas of Kansas City. It was an interesting upbringing in Tornado Alley marked by a hot sunny daze, buggy bonfires, heart-wrenching storms and police encounters. We have a saying in the flatlands, “You can see so far, you start seeing the back of your head.” A humorous statement until it brands your downfall…

What I don’t tell people is how every memory I look back on is now haunted by a death. The main culprits, substance abuse and suicide, have ripped apart very special times of my life with sadness. I don’t really know how or why. All I really have to blame is that city…

Modern society is cruel and unusual. We diagnose strange personalities with mental illness, when perhaps their only fault is the inability to adapt to such an odd way of living. We are then plagued by feelings of inferiority and estrangement. We are taught that relationships are about superficiality, religion is about image and meals are inconvenient. We’ve literally depended on our culture to tell us to feel good, without the means of doing it ourselves. We have no reason to be proud, because we have been stripped of pride by our excessive consumerism. No one makes beer, they just have some. No one makes kids, they just have them. No one walks, they just have to!

When I look back on the souls that have passed on, I remember their faces smiling brightest in the sunshine and dirt.
I realized how great a part I play. I can’t save the ones I’ve lost, but I can do my best to keep more from the same fate. I started with my own child. And now, this blog.

Every now and then my parents used to bring our family out into the countryside to have Sunday brunches with the true “prairie muffins”. These were the places spirits could run free. Mothers in the kitchen, fathers having discussions, children outside amongst the pets. No one wished to be anywhere else; none can top those weekend get-aways. This is why I write this blog. Boredom and a sense of insignificance are toxic… They are taking lives. Life is so much bigger, when you realize it doesn’t surround media broadcasts or textbooks. In fact it really doesn’t start growing until it mostly surrounds good food, children and a great night’s sleep. This is why I’m reaching out. To teach independence. Independence from culture. Independence from jobs. Independence from technology. Independence from boredom and insignificance. Independence from everything your television tells you.

I probably won’t ever make it into your news broadcasts, your kids’ programming, your feel-good commercials or your brainless adult entertainment. But I will demand your attention nevertheless. Get off your couch. Get out of your head. Get on with your life, the way God meant it. Live something that you can tell your grandchildren, as if the way you lived was a commodity… because someday it will be.

Welcome to my Prairie Muffin Manifesto. A remix of everything you’ve ever known about us.
❤ Nellie Ann

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5 thoughts on “The Prairie Muffin Manifesto

  1. You can’t blame a city. Fresh starts and clean slates are only as fresh as you make them. However, memories can be like chains and unfortunately some places are full of them. I admire your courage. Take that prairie muffin to school with her chalk and her slate and write something new.

  2. I think this is so true, Prairie Muffin. Thanks for having the courage to put an unpopular belief into words. I think you are onto something, and often, the truth is unpopular.

    People think me crazy, but I long to go back to a time where life was simpler. It might have been harder, but as you say, I dare say that many went to bed without feeling a sense of accomplishment.

    • Thank you for that encouragement. I also wish I could go back in time.. I long for it, really. Something about those stories of the old life, though harder, it never seemed like they wasted it.
      Thanks for contributing your feed back 🙂

  3. I wonder if you are talking about the Sullivan farm. Fond memories. Know that we are still here but now the children running around are grandchildren and the animals are more than pets. Granddad (Tim) has gotten into raising organic eggs and meat, so we have chickens, cows, pigs, and ducks. The gardens have grown bigger with time, too. We drink fresh milk from some local cows, and we drink living water from the word of God, which seems fresher and more alive as time goes on, too. We love the simple life and you are always welcome to come enjoy it with us when you come in town. We could sip tea in the Cedar Garden, listen to the wind rustling through the trees, and get caught up and reacquainted.

    • 😀 That sounds absolutely wonderful! Yes, your farm and the Lingner’s, the Sweatnam’s, and even the Foley’s and the Power’s house. Those were some of the best years, and I never understood until now how much they have inspired me. The word of God is in rich supply here too. I just made my first blackberry jam from some of the bushes out back. We got our first pair of chickens on Easter, and I volunteer for an organic farm. I would love to catch up next time I visit!!

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