kansas hill

Night Sledding

“I wanna go sledding,” Dean said, sounding hopeful.

Cas opened his eyes and saw Dean peering back at him, dead serious. “Sledding… right now?” he said slowly. “You do know it’s the middle of the night?”

Dean has a lot of spur-of-the-moment ideas, and though Cas is reluctant at first, he can’t bring himself to mind this one. (1.6k)


Castiel was woken up late at night by a series of soft kisses: one to his forehead, one to his eyelids, then to his nose and finally, mouth. “Dean?” he mumbled, feeling around blindly until his fingers touched the face above him. He held his boyfriend’s head in his hands and felt his cheeks move when the other boy smiled.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean whispered, pecking him on the lips again.

“Why’re you up?” Cas murmured, eyes still closed.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Dean responded, running a hand through Cas’ dark, messy hair. “I feel like doing something.”

“What do you want to do?” Cas answered with a yawn, humoring him.

“I wanna go sledding,” Dean said, sounding hopeful.

Cas opened his eyes and saw Dean peering back at him, dead serious. “Sledding… right now?” he said slowly. “You do know it’s the middle of the night?”

Keep reading

I have a note on my phone that just says

Minnesota: Cold Kansas
Nebraska: corn Kansas
Colorado: high Kansas
Missouri: hill Kansas
Kansas: Kansas Kansas

I think I was going to make a map with all of these labels on it but this is like, 3 AM humor which isn’t funny to anyone but me


18 seconds on the clock – Score 30-24 Chiefs – So it started with an impossible catch by Raiders TE Jared Cook on fourth-and-11 that was ruled a touchdown, but after review, the ruling was reversed – his butt was down at the one. Because it was under 2 minutes in the game, there’s a 10-second runoff (see Lions game Week 3 vs Falcons).

8 seconds on the clock – WR Michael Crabtree catches the game-winning touchdown - oh, but wait, Crabtree was called for offensive pass interference with his pushoff of Chiefs DB Marcus Peters.

3 seconds on the clock – Incomplete pass to TE Jared Cook, game over - oh, but wait. Holding called on the Chiefs and ball was placed on the 5 yard line on an untimed down (sorry, didn’t get this).

Still 3 seconds on the clock – WR Cordarelle Patterson catches a pass in the back of the end zone, but he’s ruled out of bounds. Game over, oh, but wait. Another holding call on the Chiefs and another untimed down.

Still 3 seconds on the clock - Finally QB Derek Carr hits WR Michael Crabtree for a touchdown, Raiders win 31-30.

Week 7 is off to a wild start.


Pleasant Scene at Pleasant Hill by Joe McMillan
Via Flickr:
Missouri Pacific passenger Train No. 16 (Kansas City to St. Louis) makes a station stop at Pleasant Hill, Missouri, on a gloomy December 12, 1968. As soon as that westbound freight clears, we’ll be on our way again. Photo by Joe McMillan.

Stuff you can think about while continuing to ignore JK’s racist and pathetically misguided attempts at approximating American wizard history:

  • magic schools in old, one room schoolhouses enchanted to have a dozen rooms for a hundred students at a time
  • magic schools under the Appalachians disguised as old, abandoned coal mines
  • magic schools disguised as abandoned railroad towns (there are a LOT more of those than you think. Seriously, look up West Virginia ghost towns sometime)
  • magic schools under the Kansas hills, built like sod houses to resemble the old faerie mounds
  • historically black magic schools
  • each Native American nation having its own school of magic, making sure their own traditions won’t die out and be forcibly replaced with European ones
  • Chesapeake Bay Academy, the magic school for the DMV (DC, Maryland, and northern Virginia) being sister schools with Mahoutokoro
  • magical schools mascots like hidebehinds, cactus cats, and teakettlers (because lumberjack folklore is weird and adorbs and makes perfect magical creatures)

I’ve experienced four claustrophobia-related panic attacks and none were caused by elevators or caves; they were caused by trees. Specifically, East Coast trees.  Since our kids live back east, we’ve driven back and forth many times. And the highways back there are beautiful. You can drive for miles and see nothing but a tree canopy. No Comfort Suites, no McDonalds, no houses, and no people.  After a few hours of this isolation, my palms itch, my legs twitch, and I can’t get enough air into my lungs. Damn trees.

I think that where you feel most comfortable driving is influenced by where you first drove. My first road trips were to Kansas State which is located in the Flint Hills tallgrass prairie. It was just me, my Camaro, and Steve Miller with a side of Queen driving along roads first cut by wagon wheels.

The prairie usually only gives you four colors: sky-blue bomb pop blue, yellow green, medium green, brown. Sometimes puffy white. In the early spring, the prairie is on fire with controlled burns. At night, the hills glow with a ribbon of red embers. After, the smell of smoke hangs heavy over the blackened earth. Soon, the land turns yellow-green and then emerald. In the fall, the grasses are brown and rust and gold and the sun hangs large and low.

You can see beyond today in the prairie. You can see yesterday and tomorrow and the day after. After this vastness, I can’t tolerate being enclosed. I like being in a place where the sky is so big it seems as if the sun is rising and setting at the same moment; I like thinking I can see the earth curve.

Only an estimated 4% of the tallgrass prairie still remains in the world and 80% of it is in the Flint Hills of Kansas and Oklahoma. A few years ago, a final agreement was reached to save 11,000 acres by creating the Tallgrass National Prairie Preserve. In an example of how things ought to work, ranchers and attorneys and environmentalists and Republicans and Democrats came together in an agreement that took decades to reach. Ranchers will be allowed to continue a way of life that has existed for generations and, in return for not plowing the land or developing it, the government will pay the ranchers a portion of what they would have received had they sold or plowed their acres. The ranchers will grant easements to scientists and environmentalists who will be involved in restoring the native grasses and animals including some of the 30 to 75 million buffalo who once roamed. Wins all around. And when all of this agreement seemed to be threatened, The Nature Conservancy stepped in and took over for the National Parks. (And, just an aside about the parks and their rangers: Last weekend, when we were again at the prairie, the ranger was giving us some facts about the grasses and the ecosystem and, at one point, he said, “These are real facts. Not alternative facts.” You’ve got to give it to those park rangers—they’re just frustrated comedians.)

When I first meet people and they learn I’m from Kansas, they start with the Dorothy jokes and end with the opinion that Kansas is one vast wasteland that you only drive through to reach the Rockies. Oddly enough, the Flint Hills are a kissing cousin to the ecosystem of the Rockies. The prairie formed only because the Rockies sucked the moisture out of the sky and our prairie grew up in defiance of that theft. The Rockies are truly take-your-breath-away spectacular but, you know, there are a lot of trees there.

It’s strange because I have seldom touched a cow or a grain of wheat and know nothing about agriculture, but, as we drove through the Flint Hills this weekend, I felt at peace. This Kansan truly is most at home on the range. (our state song? get it?)