Country Woman

National Parks

- BY KELLY WHITT

ACROSS

1. ___ Springs

National Park

4. Nonconform­ist

8. Yellowston­e

National Park resident

12. ___-Locka, Florida

13. At a distance

14. Rub ___ (2 wds.)

15. Olive or vegetable

16. Maui national park

18. Part of a banana

20. Number of seasons

21. Author Rand

24. Newest national park, White ___

28. National park that is 95% water

33. Castle’s defense

34. Lyric poem

35. Work dough

37. Attempt

38. Frolic

40. National park that’s home to 6 Down

42. Wrangell-St. ___ is the largest national park in the U.S.

44. Prefix for system or logical

45. Eyeball protector

48. Steep

52. National park named for French canoeists

57. Actress Longoria

58. Leave out

59. English actor Guinness

60. Home to Great Basin National Park (abbr.)

61. Neck part

62. City transporta­tion

63. ___ Tortugas National Park

Love can make you do things you never thought you would—things like moving 1,500 miles away from home after graduating high school to be with your fiance for the summer, and living in a camper on his parents’ ranch when you get there.

It was a bit awkward. But that’s love: It puts you in all manner of uncomforta­ble situations. And the summer after high school was a prime example of that.

My love and I spent our days working hard on the ranch. Early in the morning we moved the wheel lines that irrigated the wheat, barley and hayfields. We checked and fixed fences and then turned the cows in to new pastures. Dustin worked on machinery and showed me how to operate the hay tractor. Toward evening we would shift the wheel lines again.

I did my best to learn, work hard and prove to his parents I was right for him. And I really tried not to embarrass myself.

One evening after irrigating, Dustin and I came back from the fields on the four-wheelers. We stopped in front of the house, where my love and his parents talked about the upcoming harvest. I decided to go get a glass of water, so I swung off the four-wheeler and headed to the camper. As I left, their conversati­on seemed to slow a bit, but I was too far away to make out what they were saying.

Suddenly, Dustin’s father raised his voice and directed it toward me. “Hey! Do you feel a draft?” I whipped around, momentaril­y confused.

Then I felt it—something was not quite right on my backside. I started walking backward as quickly as I could, aiming for the camper door. I fumbled with the latch when I got there, but managed to get inside without having to turn around. I went to the mirror and swiveled to look at my rear end.

Sure enough, my fear was realized: there was a tear in my jeans the length of my back pocket—and showing through the rip was my bright red underwear.

My face turned the same color. I was mortified. This, in front of my future in-laws!

Somehow I gained the courage to change my pants and go back outside. Thankfully, no one said a word and we acted like nothing had happened.

I have since married my darling Dustin and we live happily near the ranch with our 6-month-old son and our dog, Beau. And along with so many of the other things I learned that summer, I realized embarrassi­ng moments are just a part of life—made much more enjoyable when shared with the ones you love.

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