Well, the turkey bones are in the soup pot, and there is a slow cooker brewing up a stroganoff for supper to give us all a break from all the traditional fare we've been consuming for the past three days. We are also down to only three people in the house this afternoon, which is very restful after twenty-two people for supper on Christmas Eve, and six plus a two year old for the rest of the time. Our nephew, Cole, kept everyone on their toes but he and his mommy left early this morning. They had a long drive ahead of them and Cole had decided that sitting in a car seat for that long on the way down was way too long for his liking.
I took Christmas Eve day off as I was holding the family feast here so I've had almost a whole week away from work. I seem to be a loose ends this afternoon - does that mean I'm ready to go back now? Or is it a case of just wanting things to get back to normal? I should probably go out for a very long walk to shed some of the calories I've taken in over the past week.
I'm going to figure out how to post a photo on this blog today. The kids and I gave Glen a yard sign for Christmas this year. Quite some time ago he and Jesse decided that the farm should be called "Skull Ranch". I don't know how serious they were at the time, but because I didn't care for it at all, they made a big fuss about how much they just loved it. It became a standing joke and over time they have worn me down. A couple years ago Glen even had T-shirts made up with his personal logo (really personal, it's his tattoo) so I decided that the time had come to put it on the yard sign too. We installed it over another sign that Jesse painted years ago to welcome our Australian in-laws to Canada. I think all the neighbours had finally all figured that one out (it was painted up-side-down because they were from the "land down under"). They "got it" right away, but I think it took the local Canadians much longer. I wonder what they'll think of this new sign? I think it's our job to keep everyone entertained.
We still haven't got our calves weaned. I was feeling like we were really falling behind this year, but brother-in-law Maurice told us the other night that he had just managed to get his done the week before. Glen says that we're doing it this week for sure. I think he has that job scheduled for tomorrow with both Sandy and Jesse here to help, and maybe Mitchell if he doesn't have to work. That means we'd better enjoy our night's sleep tonight because it sure can get noisy for a couple of days - and nights - until they are all used to the idea that the mamas and calves can still see each other, but there is no more milk. As the cows are well along into their next pregnancy, it's time that last year's calves were on their own.
This time last year, we were getting ready for our trip to sunny Mexico but this year it's just a case of back to the grindstone. 2008 will shape up as a bit of a different year as we plan for Jesse and Andrew's wedding this fall.
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Sunday, December 09, 2007
CHRISTMAS IS A COMIN'
It's not quite as cold out there as it has been this past week or so. Man- has it been miserable! Funny how Environment Canada didn't have anything to say about the coming winter until the North Pole blew south - then, all of a sudden it was "we told you so." and "get ready for more of this." It's pretty hard to believe in this thing called Global Warming when you freeze solid if you stand still for two minutes.
We now have over two hundred animals out in the pasture behind the house. This is where Glen planted his corn this year and he's just let them into their first parcel of it. It is really neat to watch them eat it - first they break off the corn cobs, drop them to the ground and break off a chunk at a time (usually three pieces per cob) until they are all gone. Then they turn their attention to the leaves, and then the stocks. By the time they are finished, the field is neatly cleaned off, and they are gazing longingly across the electric wire at the next batch.
Glen is feeding them bales of hay as well, and every morning he goes out and chops a hole in the dugout ice for them to drink. We are hoping that in the next week (or so - there just aren't enough hours in the days to get everything done) we will be getting the cows and calves separated and the calves weaned. Then it will be easier to arrange a watering bowl for each half of the herd. Chopping the dugout is hard work, and not necessarily the safest - for man or beast.
My life has picked up speed lately - I am a postal worker, after all. This is the busiest (and happiest) time of the year, and even though I come home pretty darned tired, it's a happy kind of tired. We get to deliver the things that people are waiting for, and help them with their surprises for their families. It's all good.
Of course, when I get home from that job, I have to start on trying to get everything ready and under control in this house! I have spent the day doing my cards and letters, doing some baking, and wrapping some gifts. I can't see the tree going up until next weekend and there is a carpenter coming to replace the counter top in my kitchen at mid week. I guess that means we'll be camping out of the bathroom sink for dishes for a few days. Why didn't I think of this before it was going to affect Christmas? Who knows? But it will all come together. It had better - Glen and I are holding the big meal for my side of the family.
We now have over two hundred animals out in the pasture behind the house. This is where Glen planted his corn this year and he's just let them into their first parcel of it. It is really neat to watch them eat it - first they break off the corn cobs, drop them to the ground and break off a chunk at a time (usually three pieces per cob) until they are all gone. Then they turn their attention to the leaves, and then the stocks. By the time they are finished, the field is neatly cleaned off, and they are gazing longingly across the electric wire at the next batch.
Glen is feeding them bales of hay as well, and every morning he goes out and chops a hole in the dugout ice for them to drink. We are hoping that in the next week (or so - there just aren't enough hours in the days to get everything done) we will be getting the cows and calves separated and the calves weaned. Then it will be easier to arrange a watering bowl for each half of the herd. Chopping the dugout is hard work, and not necessarily the safest - for man or beast.
My life has picked up speed lately - I am a postal worker, after all. This is the busiest (and happiest) time of the year, and even though I come home pretty darned tired, it's a happy kind of tired. We get to deliver the things that people are waiting for, and help them with their surprises for their families. It's all good.
Of course, when I get home from that job, I have to start on trying to get everything ready and under control in this house! I have spent the day doing my cards and letters, doing some baking, and wrapping some gifts. I can't see the tree going up until next weekend and there is a carpenter coming to replace the counter top in my kitchen at mid week. I guess that means we'll be camping out of the bathroom sink for dishes for a few days. Why didn't I think of this before it was going to affect Christmas? Who knows? But it will all come together. It had better - Glen and I are holding the big meal for my side of the family.
Friday, November 16, 2007
JUST FOR FUN
I've been writing this blog for a few years now, but I don't think I've ever mentioned that I also write a human interest (mostly humor) column for the local weekly newspaper as well. They do pay me, but mostly I do it because it's fun and my "fans" get such a kick out life as it happens out on our farm. This week's column seems to have hit the collective funny bone pretty hard so I thought I'd post it for a change. Hope you all enjoy it too ....
THE RESURRECTION COW
By Jocelyn Hainsworth
We are relatively new at this “raising cattle for profit” game - so new in fact that it’s only slowly beginning to dawn on me that maybe the “profit” part of it doesn’t happen all that often. What I have come to understand, though, is that cows eat a lot, and they drink a lot (especially when the water lines freeze up and we have to haul water at forty below zero).
They also fertilize quite a bit. I know this to be true because I just spent my stat holiday hauling huge amounts of this organic type of fertilizer from where they thoughtlessly left it in the barn, out onto the field where it’s going to do us some good.
And then there’s their health care bill. They have hoof problems, and eye problems, and get lumps in their mouths from something they ate. We’ve had cases of pneumonia, calves with scours, and something quaintly referred to as wooden tongue. Our bulls like to feel special (because, being male, they think they’re worth more) so they break their toe nails for the extra attention it gets them. To keep them from having more troubles with their health, we also invest in inoculations for the calf crop and preventative treatments against lice to keep them from scratching themselves bald. Cows are not cheap pets.
But, this past few weeks, I’ve begun to wonder if we don’t know all there is to know about bovine life. I think at least one of our neighbors has a secret formula that we are not aware of - one that can bring a cow back from the dead. Over and over and over again.
It is most fascinating. I can drive to work in the morning and this animal will be laid right out on her side, feet sticking straight out in front of her, head back - one deceased cow, if I’ve even seen one (and I have seen one or two in my time). BUT, later on, on my way home, I will witness her re-birth as a living, eating cow. The next day she might be up eating when I go to town and dead when I get home, but my point is, she is both dead, and alive, on the same day. Day after day. None of our dead cows have ever done that.
Our dead cows tend to stay dead. And thanks to our dogs, the evidence is all over our front lawn. Proud trophy bones, dragged back from the pasture in broad daylight (so that the coyotes don’t them - the dogs, I mean, not the bones) and set in front of the house in defiance of any wild critter coming to re-claim them with humans so close.
I gaze out on those bones and think about the story of the valley of bones in Ezekiel in the bible. Remember, how those dry, white bones were called together and how they fleshed up and came to life again? I wonder how far gone the resurrection cow was before she was put back on her feet and her feed? Out here in coyote country, I don’t think you have to lie still for too long before somebody thinks of you as dinner.
And I wonder how the resuscitation takes place? Is it a magic formula? Do you give it by injection? Does it come in powder form and it is sprinkled over the body like pixie dust? Is it like a voodoo ceremony, with smoke and chants and magic words? Or, is it more scientific, and all that is needed is a good old jolt from an electric fencer?
We obviously have a lot to learn here, and I know which neighbor I want to give the lessons.
THE RESURRECTION COW
By Jocelyn Hainsworth
We are relatively new at this “raising cattle for profit” game - so new in fact that it’s only slowly beginning to dawn on me that maybe the “profit” part of it doesn’t happen all that often. What I have come to understand, though, is that cows eat a lot, and they drink a lot (especially when the water lines freeze up and we have to haul water at forty below zero).
They also fertilize quite a bit. I know this to be true because I just spent my stat holiday hauling huge amounts of this organic type of fertilizer from where they thoughtlessly left it in the barn, out onto the field where it’s going to do us some good.
And then there’s their health care bill. They have hoof problems, and eye problems, and get lumps in their mouths from something they ate. We’ve had cases of pneumonia, calves with scours, and something quaintly referred to as wooden tongue. Our bulls like to feel special (because, being male, they think they’re worth more) so they break their toe nails for the extra attention it gets them. To keep them from having more troubles with their health, we also invest in inoculations for the calf crop and preventative treatments against lice to keep them from scratching themselves bald. Cows are not cheap pets.
But, this past few weeks, I’ve begun to wonder if we don’t know all there is to know about bovine life. I think at least one of our neighbors has a secret formula that we are not aware of - one that can bring a cow back from the dead. Over and over and over again.
It is most fascinating. I can drive to work in the morning and this animal will be laid right out on her side, feet sticking straight out in front of her, head back - one deceased cow, if I’ve even seen one (and I have seen one or two in my time). BUT, later on, on my way home, I will witness her re-birth as a living, eating cow. The next day she might be up eating when I go to town and dead when I get home, but my point is, she is both dead, and alive, on the same day. Day after day. None of our dead cows have ever done that.
Our dead cows tend to stay dead. And thanks to our dogs, the evidence is all over our front lawn. Proud trophy bones, dragged back from the pasture in broad daylight (so that the coyotes don’t them - the dogs, I mean, not the bones) and set in front of the house in defiance of any wild critter coming to re-claim them with humans so close.
I gaze out on those bones and think about the story of the valley of bones in Ezekiel in the bible. Remember, how those dry, white bones were called together and how they fleshed up and came to life again? I wonder how far gone the resurrection cow was before she was put back on her feet and her feed? Out here in coyote country, I don’t think you have to lie still for too long before somebody thinks of you as dinner.
And I wonder how the resuscitation takes place? Is it a magic formula? Do you give it by injection? Does it come in powder form and it is sprinkled over the body like pixie dust? Is it like a voodoo ceremony, with smoke and chants and magic words? Or, is it more scientific, and all that is needed is a good old jolt from an electric fencer?
We obviously have a lot to learn here, and I know which neighbor I want to give the lessons.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
FALL WORK AND FOWL SUPPERS
It looks nicer outside today than it really is. Not that I've checked it out for myself - Glen informed me of the nippy temperatures when he came in from feeding Charlie (the latest in a long line of bottle-fed calves). I guess it is almost November, we should be thankful that we don't have snow yet.
I spent yesterday afternoon (the morning was too frosty and cold) outside finishing up what yard work needed to be done. At last the potatos have all been dug and carried in, as well as the last six feet of the carrot row. I'll finish cleaning out the cold room downstairs and get Glen to haul all the heavy bags down when he gets home from work tonight. I've also got the tarps we used to cover the tomatoes during the early frosts all folded and ready to be put away. I tried to get the tiller to start so I could put that away, but it outweighs me by quite a lot - it won that round. I'll leave that job for the he-man of the family.
Last weekend we brought all the cattle in and ran them through the chutes. They all had to be sprayed with a de-louser (we do it every fall - it saves them a lot of misery through the winter) and the calves had to have their innoculations. The girls were home from university to help so the whole operation went pretty smoothly, but it still took the whole day. It just so happened that we had tickets to the annual health foundation fundraiser that night and we were even done in time to take in the meal and dinner theatre - although, after all that fresh air and exercise, it would have been pretty easy to doze off after the meal. Glen has arranged that we will be boarding another 40 cows and 40 feeders through this winter, so when they arrive we'll have to treat them all too. I don't know that there are enough hours in the day to get all the work done, but Glen seems to think we can do it. I'm going to have to sit him down and try to explain the concept of semi-retirement to him again. He's just not getting it.
He is talking about maybe spending a day or two in the states pricing out vehicles. My car is ready for a trade and he wants to see for himself all the pros and cons of buying with Canadian dollars on the other side of the border. For sure you have to look at more than just the price tag, but at first glance the savings on some vehicles are substantial. I just think it will be a great way to have a short holiday away and maybe I can get some Christmas shopping done as well.
With Glen off to work again today, I have plans to get some baking done, some house cleaning, and maybe a last few things done outside. I've already warned him that I plan to invite myself along with my sisters and their husbands to take in a fowl supper tonight. I love the community feel of a fowl supper (and the food is great too) and Glen really would rather have a plate of stew at home - so be it - we'll each get what we want.
I spent yesterday afternoon (the morning was too frosty and cold) outside finishing up what yard work needed to be done. At last the potatos have all been dug and carried in, as well as the last six feet of the carrot row. I'll finish cleaning out the cold room downstairs and get Glen to haul all the heavy bags down when he gets home from work tonight. I've also got the tarps we used to cover the tomatoes during the early frosts all folded and ready to be put away. I tried to get the tiller to start so I could put that away, but it outweighs me by quite a lot - it won that round. I'll leave that job for the he-man of the family.
Last weekend we brought all the cattle in and ran them through the chutes. They all had to be sprayed with a de-louser (we do it every fall - it saves them a lot of misery through the winter) and the calves had to have their innoculations. The girls were home from university to help so the whole operation went pretty smoothly, but it still took the whole day. It just so happened that we had tickets to the annual health foundation fundraiser that night and we were even done in time to take in the meal and dinner theatre - although, after all that fresh air and exercise, it would have been pretty easy to doze off after the meal. Glen has arranged that we will be boarding another 40 cows and 40 feeders through this winter, so when they arrive we'll have to treat them all too. I don't know that there are enough hours in the day to get all the work done, but Glen seems to think we can do it. I'm going to have to sit him down and try to explain the concept of semi-retirement to him again. He's just not getting it.
He is talking about maybe spending a day or two in the states pricing out vehicles. My car is ready for a trade and he wants to see for himself all the pros and cons of buying with Canadian dollars on the other side of the border. For sure you have to look at more than just the price tag, but at first glance the savings on some vehicles are substantial. I just think it will be a great way to have a short holiday away and maybe I can get some Christmas shopping done as well.
With Glen off to work again today, I have plans to get some baking done, some house cleaning, and maybe a last few things done outside. I've already warned him that I plan to invite myself along with my sisters and their husbands to take in a fowl supper tonight. I love the community feel of a fowl supper (and the food is great too) and Glen really would rather have a plate of stew at home - so be it - we'll each get what we want.
Friday, October 12, 2007
TAKING A DAY
There is always so much to do! Thank goodness I'm home today trying to catch up on the house neglect of the past two weeks. I think I could use a whole week to get it all done.
Life here has been dis-jointed this past few weeks. My sister's husband was diagnosed with a brain tumor in early August and regretfully told there was nothing anyone could do - it had gone too far before the warning signs had presented themselves. They told him that he had from two weeks to two months to live, and they were almost right on with the prediction. They spent the time wisely putting everything in Margaret's name and doing their best to prepare for the future. There were even three weeks in August, after the doctors managed to find the right mix of medication for pain, that were good to them. But then the inevitable happened and he started going downhill again with nothing to stop the disease's progress. Over the past three weeks since John was admitted into palliative care, we sisters have tried to be with Margaret as much as possible - all taking turns to spread out the visits as much as possible. I've driven to the other side of the province twice (1400 kms round trip) and we will be heading out there tomorrow morning EARLY to be in Coleville for a 3:00 o'clock funeral.
My sister Wendy left to be with Margaret immediately after the call that John was gone to be there to help her with the final preparations for the funeral, and we'll all spend the night after the funeral together for some family time. Margaret is so lucky to be living in Coleville. The people there have been beyond fantastic in their support - giving both financially and emotionally - throughout this terrible time. When I was up there for my first visit I mentioned this to one of Margaret's friends and she said that any small town would have done the same, and maybe they would, but I still say that the people of Coleville are special.
All my fall work around this place has been pretty much put on hold. My potatoes have not been dug, the lawn mowers are not put away (mostly because the big drive-in door to the Quonset was broken and wouldn't open) and the house looks like it was abandonned to a man for eight days, all tolled, over the past two weeks. Before I knew that we weren't leaving until tomorrow morning I had taken today off and was not even tempted to change it when the plans changed. So far I've done four loads of laundry, made a big pot of soup, sorted through the ripe tomatoes, cleaned out the porch and washed its floor, and plan to tackle the outside jobs right after I sign off here. The sun is shining, the temperature is balmy - for October - and I feel like I might even catch up someday.
Life here has been dis-jointed this past few weeks. My sister's husband was diagnosed with a brain tumor in early August and regretfully told there was nothing anyone could do - it had gone too far before the warning signs had presented themselves. They told him that he had from two weeks to two months to live, and they were almost right on with the prediction. They spent the time wisely putting everything in Margaret's name and doing their best to prepare for the future. There were even three weeks in August, after the doctors managed to find the right mix of medication for pain, that were good to them. But then the inevitable happened and he started going downhill again with nothing to stop the disease's progress. Over the past three weeks since John was admitted into palliative care, we sisters have tried to be with Margaret as much as possible - all taking turns to spread out the visits as much as possible. I've driven to the other side of the province twice (1400 kms round trip) and we will be heading out there tomorrow morning EARLY to be in Coleville for a 3:00 o'clock funeral.
My sister Wendy left to be with Margaret immediately after the call that John was gone to be there to help her with the final preparations for the funeral, and we'll all spend the night after the funeral together for some family time. Margaret is so lucky to be living in Coleville. The people there have been beyond fantastic in their support - giving both financially and emotionally - throughout this terrible time. When I was up there for my first visit I mentioned this to one of Margaret's friends and she said that any small town would have done the same, and maybe they would, but I still say that the people of Coleville are special.
All my fall work around this place has been pretty much put on hold. My potatoes have not been dug, the lawn mowers are not put away (mostly because the big drive-in door to the Quonset was broken and wouldn't open) and the house looks like it was abandonned to a man for eight days, all tolled, over the past two weeks. Before I knew that we weren't leaving until tomorrow morning I had taken today off and was not even tempted to change it when the plans changed. So far I've done four loads of laundry, made a big pot of soup, sorted through the ripe tomatoes, cleaned out the porch and washed its floor, and plan to tackle the outside jobs right after I sign off here. The sun is shining, the temperature is balmy - for October - and I feel like I might even catch up someday.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
LOTS TO DO
It's the last day of September - where on Earth did 2007 go? It seems like only yesterday we were dealing with all the hoop-la over the millennium, and now, here we are almost at 2010. It is a mystery how time can speed past so fast.
Harvest is pretty much done for everyone in this area. I think it's a different story up in the northeast of the grain belt of Saskatchewan. They've been over wet for two years now so they can't get their crops planted until later in the season which just puts their whole crop year behind schedule. Here we haven't had more than a drop or two of rain since August (enough to stop harvesting, but not enough water to keep the pastures green) so Glen has been having to feed the cattle bales out on the pasture for weeks now. We have lots of hay put up so there is no worry of running out, but it's an extra job that shouldn't need done until snowfall. We have a pasture we want to move them to, but first the bales have to be hauled off it or the cattle will just destroy them. Glen has hired a guy to come and haul them home, but so has everyone else in the countryside. A guy with a bale hauling truck is a busy man this time of the year.
We were pleasantly surprised last week when our butcher called to say that he could come and do an animal for us. We had thought we'd be waiting until November for him. I had been warning Glen all through August that we were down to the last of our beef in the deep freeze - and I had put some pressure on at the last, telling him that if I ran out of the "good" stuff (our own home-grown beef) that I wasn't buying what they sell at the stores because it doesn't even compare in taste or texture. What I was going to do was switch to chicken until our beef was ready. In Glen's eyes, that's an out and out threat. He hates chicken. I don't know if he had to bribe the butcher to come early, or not, but it sure worked out in his favour; we are down to one roast and one package of steaks. That should keep us fed until the end of next week when they'll call us to come pick up a whole deep freeze of meat. Hopefully it will be before the kids are home for the long weekend so they can take some back with them. That way we can share the wealth and help them with their student food budgets at the same time.
Today looks like another fantastic fall day out there. Yesterday I washed all the windows on the house - inside and out - and today looks like a good day to go out and clean up the flower beds. I obviously don't ache in enough places yet! I will also be trying to figure out my choices for annual flowers next year. Jesse and Andrew are officially engaged and have set their date for September 13th next year so I'll be aiming to have to yard looking in top shape for late summer. I think that will mean lots of asters, marigolds and zinnias. Maybe some dahlias too, although I never have very good luck with them. The wedding will be in a church, but she wants her pictures to be taken at the farm - in September it will be the luck of the draw as to what kind of weather we end up with, we could have shirt sleeve temperatures like yesterday, or snow - but I guess there are no promises with weather no matter which date you choose.
There is much to do, both short term, and long term so I had better put down my Sunday morning cup of coffee and get on with my day!
Harvest is pretty much done for everyone in this area. I think it's a different story up in the northeast of the grain belt of Saskatchewan. They've been over wet for two years now so they can't get their crops planted until later in the season which just puts their whole crop year behind schedule. Here we haven't had more than a drop or two of rain since August (enough to stop harvesting, but not enough water to keep the pastures green) so Glen has been having to feed the cattle bales out on the pasture for weeks now. We have lots of hay put up so there is no worry of running out, but it's an extra job that shouldn't need done until snowfall. We have a pasture we want to move them to, but first the bales have to be hauled off it or the cattle will just destroy them. Glen has hired a guy to come and haul them home, but so has everyone else in the countryside. A guy with a bale hauling truck is a busy man this time of the year.
We were pleasantly surprised last week when our butcher called to say that he could come and do an animal for us. We had thought we'd be waiting until November for him. I had been warning Glen all through August that we were down to the last of our beef in the deep freeze - and I had put some pressure on at the last, telling him that if I ran out of the "good" stuff (our own home-grown beef) that I wasn't buying what they sell at the stores because it doesn't even compare in taste or texture. What I was going to do was switch to chicken until our beef was ready. In Glen's eyes, that's an out and out threat. He hates chicken. I don't know if he had to bribe the butcher to come early, or not, but it sure worked out in his favour; we are down to one roast and one package of steaks. That should keep us fed until the end of next week when they'll call us to come pick up a whole deep freeze of meat. Hopefully it will be before the kids are home for the long weekend so they can take some back with them. That way we can share the wealth and help them with their student food budgets at the same time.
Today looks like another fantastic fall day out there. Yesterday I washed all the windows on the house - inside and out - and today looks like a good day to go out and clean up the flower beds. I obviously don't ache in enough places yet! I will also be trying to figure out my choices for annual flowers next year. Jesse and Andrew are officially engaged and have set their date for September 13th next year so I'll be aiming to have to yard looking in top shape for late summer. I think that will mean lots of asters, marigolds and zinnias. Maybe some dahlias too, although I never have very good luck with them. The wedding will be in a church, but she wants her pictures to be taken at the farm - in September it will be the luck of the draw as to what kind of weather we end up with, we could have shirt sleeve temperatures like yesterday, or snow - but I guess there are no promises with weather no matter which date you choose.
There is much to do, both short term, and long term so I had better put down my Sunday morning cup of coffee and get on with my day!
Sunday, September 09, 2007
A BUSY TIME
The days grow shorter, the nights cooler, and the trees prettier. Harvest drags on - or so I hear the farm wives say when they’re in picking up their mail. Glen and I have so little that we actually combine anymore that we’ve been done for ages, but the big grain farm operations are barely halfway.
One conversation between women on their parts and grocery runs earlier this week was all about how this harvest was going so slowly this year. It’s true that there have been frustrating little rains many days that grind everything to a halt for a day or two each time, and as the days shorten up, there are less sunshine hours to dry things up again. If farmers could only have a week of dry and hot weather they would be done. What made me smile, after these younger women had said their piece, was when an older one spoke up - about how when she was growing up, and how harvest always took the whole month of September back then. The farms were smaller size-wise, but so was the machinery that did the harvesting, and no one had the added conveniences of straight cut headers and aeration fans to lengthen out the harvesting hours of a day. I don’t know if the younger women even stopped long enough in their busy rounds to ponder these things, but I kind of sided with the one who remembered the harvest days of my childhood. Obviously I, too, am getting old.
Today must be aggravating the heck out the neighbors again. There have been two different ten minute showers since I got up this morning, and by the look of the skies, number three is about to happen. I love the smell of the fresh, clean air ... but then, our grain is already in the bin.
Of course, there is always something to be done on the farm, though. Glen is still trying to find enough hours in the day to do his farming and go and earn a paycheck as well. He’s off building an oil well lease today but the bales still need hauling home and the cultivation of the calving pasture, so that we can re-seed it, is still undone. I’ve told him often enough there are but 24 hours in a day, and only seven of those in a week, but my words fall on deaf ears. He has managed to get our barns scheduled for cleaning before freeze up and got busy and sold the rye we’ve been storing for three years ... that’s some progress, at least. I know if I offered, I could do some of these jobs, but I’ve learned the more you know how to do, the more you are expected to do. I already cover enough bases, and besides, if I lessened his load of those jobs he’d just think of something else he needed to take on! One of us has to say "Enough!"
So, I’ve spent today cleaning my house, washing floors, and have a roast beef in the oven. I think it will even be accompanied with an apple crisp for dessert. My contribution on a Sunday afternoon.
One conversation between women on their parts and grocery runs earlier this week was all about how this harvest was going so slowly this year. It’s true that there have been frustrating little rains many days that grind everything to a halt for a day or two each time, and as the days shorten up, there are less sunshine hours to dry things up again. If farmers could only have a week of dry and hot weather they would be done. What made me smile, after these younger women had said their piece, was when an older one spoke up - about how when she was growing up, and how harvest always took the whole month of September back then. The farms were smaller size-wise, but so was the machinery that did the harvesting, and no one had the added conveniences of straight cut headers and aeration fans to lengthen out the harvesting hours of a day. I don’t know if the younger women even stopped long enough in their busy rounds to ponder these things, but I kind of sided with the one who remembered the harvest days of my childhood. Obviously I, too, am getting old.
Today must be aggravating the heck out the neighbors again. There have been two different ten minute showers since I got up this morning, and by the look of the skies, number three is about to happen. I love the smell of the fresh, clean air ... but then, our grain is already in the bin.
Of course, there is always something to be done on the farm, though. Glen is still trying to find enough hours in the day to do his farming and go and earn a paycheck as well. He’s off building an oil well lease today but the bales still need hauling home and the cultivation of the calving pasture, so that we can re-seed it, is still undone. I’ve told him often enough there are but 24 hours in a day, and only seven of those in a week, but my words fall on deaf ears. He has managed to get our barns scheduled for cleaning before freeze up and got busy and sold the rye we’ve been storing for three years ... that’s some progress, at least. I know if I offered, I could do some of these jobs, but I’ve learned the more you know how to do, the more you are expected to do. I already cover enough bases, and besides, if I lessened his load of those jobs he’d just think of something else he needed to take on! One of us has to say "Enough!"
So, I’ve spent today cleaning my house, washing floors, and have a roast beef in the oven. I think it will even be accompanied with an apple crisp for dessert. My contribution on a Sunday afternoon.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
SUMMER, WINDING DOWN
Well, summer must be done - the humming birds have left the country. We have two feeders that hang right outside my kitchen window and I've been watching them war over who has access to the sugar water since May. It seems lonely now to look out at the empty airspace before me. Not that you can get an accurate count of how many tiny birds there are circling the feeders at any one time, but we think we probably have five or six mating pairs, and come August when the juveniles join the adults to top up their tanks for their flight south, I almost feel a need an air trafic controller to keep from being speared with their pointy little beaks while I'm flipping burgers for supper.
Harvest is in full swing - or it was before Mother Nature decided to slow things down with a rain. Growing conditions were perfect to begin with this summer. The soil moisture was perfect for planting, the weather was sunny and warm with timely rains, never letting the plants starve for water. Even in July, when the temperatures started to climb, the constant sunshine was still good news for the crops. Unfortunately, it got to be too much of a good thing and the yield potential started sliding backwards. Although the grain heads were there to make big yields, the heat and lack of moisture dried the kernels up and the bushels went down. Now, to add insult to injury, the weather is being finicky with cool rainy days that hold back the harvest and drop the grades on the grain. Such is farming - always next year country.
Because we have so little to combine, we are done except for a few acres of oats down in the low spots where it stays green longer. While we wait for that to ripen, Glen is busy baling straw and swathing slough hay. The hay crop was fantastic this year and we have more than we'll ever use in two or even three years. We'll be putting some of it up for sale, and Glen plans to custom feed a neighbor's herd and add to ours as well, so we'll put a dent in the pile by spring.
I was gone on holiday for a week, so I am seriously behind in my gardening, pickling, and yard work. Glen entertained his cousin and her family while I was away, hosting a bonfire and wiener roast one night. It's something we like to do often during the summer, but I always try to have the grass cut before so that the mosquitos are less of a problem. I spent all day Sunday mowing the lawn - it hadn't seen a lawn mower for three weeks - I hope his guests didn't get eaten alive!
While he was keeping the home fires burning, I was out in Kananaskis Country in Alberta, camping with my sister, hiking a few trails and trying out white water rafting. Although I love my Prairies, and wouldn't want to live anywhere else, I do love to visit the mountains.
Now, it's back to the grind. The first day back to work I couldn't even find my office keys (a subliminal message, do you think?) , and once I got back into that groove, our daughter, Jesse, has been in daily contact trying to get plans underway for a wedding next year. Come this time next year, I'm liable to need an extended holiday.
Harvest is in full swing - or it was before Mother Nature decided to slow things down with a rain. Growing conditions were perfect to begin with this summer. The soil moisture was perfect for planting, the weather was sunny and warm with timely rains, never letting the plants starve for water. Even in July, when the temperatures started to climb, the constant sunshine was still good news for the crops. Unfortunately, it got to be too much of a good thing and the yield potential started sliding backwards. Although the grain heads were there to make big yields, the heat and lack of moisture dried the kernels up and the bushels went down. Now, to add insult to injury, the weather is being finicky with cool rainy days that hold back the harvest and drop the grades on the grain. Such is farming - always next year country.
Because we have so little to combine, we are done except for a few acres of oats down in the low spots where it stays green longer. While we wait for that to ripen, Glen is busy baling straw and swathing slough hay. The hay crop was fantastic this year and we have more than we'll ever use in two or even three years. We'll be putting some of it up for sale, and Glen plans to custom feed a neighbor's herd and add to ours as well, so we'll put a dent in the pile by spring.
I was gone on holiday for a week, so I am seriously behind in my gardening, pickling, and yard work. Glen entertained his cousin and her family while I was away, hosting a bonfire and wiener roast one night. It's something we like to do often during the summer, but I always try to have the grass cut before so that the mosquitos are less of a problem. I spent all day Sunday mowing the lawn - it hadn't seen a lawn mower for three weeks - I hope his guests didn't get eaten alive!
While he was keeping the home fires burning, I was out in Kananaskis Country in Alberta, camping with my sister, hiking a few trails and trying out white water rafting. Although I love my Prairies, and wouldn't want to live anywhere else, I do love to visit the mountains.
Now, it's back to the grind. The first day back to work I couldn't even find my office keys (a subliminal message, do you think?) , and once I got back into that groove, our daughter, Jesse, has been in daily contact trying to get plans underway for a wedding next year. Come this time next year, I'm liable to need an extended holiday.
Sunday, August 05, 2007
HOLIDAY WEEKEND - FARMER STYLE
It's Sunday afternoon, on the long weekend in August, and we're doing what we usually do - getting ready for harvest. I remember last year when we actually went camping with my brother and sisters; that was one for the record books - it's not often you can get a farmer off the farm when the grain is ripening and the hay needs stacking.
We are done baling hay now. Mitchell finished that job earlier this week, but there was no sitting back and taking it easy after that. Glen has been working most of this week and Mick has been out at the farm catching up on some of the jobs that needed doing. One of Glen's main concerns this past while has been the weak current going through the electric fencing. The last thing that we want is our cows losing their healthy respect for the snap they get when they touch that wire. The voltage is just high enough to make them want to leave it alone - if they discover that the jolt isn't any worse if they just plow right through it than if they just stand there, it won't take them long to figure out that one good run, and they're through the pain and into the field or ditch of their choosing.
We haven't had any rain in almost a month now so the ground is very dry. Not only could the crops and gardens use a rain, but dust-dry ground is not a very good "ground" for electricity, either. The charge just drains off and there's not much snap in the wire. Another problem is that plant life (weeds and grasses) can grow up and touch the wire as well, which also drains the charge off. Mitchell was sent out to check the wires for these problems the other day, and while he was chopping down cat tails as he went through a slough he tripped and fell into the water and against the fence. He had been doing a good job of clearing off the plant drain so there was a good jolt - especially with him so wet. He says his arm still hurts, and my cell phone, which was in his pocket at the time, is also fried. I don't know if the dunk in the water would have killed it on its own, but the jolt of electricity certainly finished it off. Now Glen and I both have new phones.
On the other pasture's fence Mick said he found the problem right away. There was a tree that had fallen against the fence. He said there were cows not too far away who were reaching through the wires for grass on the other side, and when he lifted off the tree, they all jumped back and bawled with surprise. They won't be going anywhere near it again for a while.
This afternoon the men are out trying to get our old swather ready to cut the fall rye. Every year fixing the poor, olf thing gets to be more of a project. From my point of view, I think we could lease a combine with a straight-header and get the job done in one day, but what do I know? Oh well, the job will get done, one way or another.
I am on two weeks holidays at the moment. My original plan was to spend the first week doing gardening and writing (different projects I'd promised to work on) and the second week camping in the mountains with my sister from Calgary. I'm not too sure how things will all work out now as there is a family medical emergency with one of my brothers-in-law. I am trying to get all these projects all caught up so I'm free to go if need be. I was up by 6:00 yesterday morning to pick, wash, prepare, and pickle yellow beans and cucumbers, and also picked and shelled two rows of peas before supper. I think I was asleep the minute my head hit the pillow last night. There's nothing like a hloiday weekend to make you feel relaxed, eh?
We are done baling hay now. Mitchell finished that job earlier this week, but there was no sitting back and taking it easy after that. Glen has been working most of this week and Mick has been out at the farm catching up on some of the jobs that needed doing. One of Glen's main concerns this past while has been the weak current going through the electric fencing. The last thing that we want is our cows losing their healthy respect for the snap they get when they touch that wire. The voltage is just high enough to make them want to leave it alone - if they discover that the jolt isn't any worse if they just plow right through it than if they just stand there, it won't take them long to figure out that one good run, and they're through the pain and into the field or ditch of their choosing.
We haven't had any rain in almost a month now so the ground is very dry. Not only could the crops and gardens use a rain, but dust-dry ground is not a very good "ground" for electricity, either. The charge just drains off and there's not much snap in the wire. Another problem is that plant life (weeds and grasses) can grow up and touch the wire as well, which also drains the charge off. Mitchell was sent out to check the wires for these problems the other day, and while he was chopping down cat tails as he went through a slough he tripped and fell into the water and against the fence. He had been doing a good job of clearing off the plant drain so there was a good jolt - especially with him so wet. He says his arm still hurts, and my cell phone, which was in his pocket at the time, is also fried. I don't know if the dunk in the water would have killed it on its own, but the jolt of electricity certainly finished it off. Now Glen and I both have new phones.
On the other pasture's fence Mick said he found the problem right away. There was a tree that had fallen against the fence. He said there were cows not too far away who were reaching through the wires for grass on the other side, and when he lifted off the tree, they all jumped back and bawled with surprise. They won't be going anywhere near it again for a while.
This afternoon the men are out trying to get our old swather ready to cut the fall rye. Every year fixing the poor, olf thing gets to be more of a project. From my point of view, I think we could lease a combine with a straight-header and get the job done in one day, but what do I know? Oh well, the job will get done, one way or another.
I am on two weeks holidays at the moment. My original plan was to spend the first week doing gardening and writing (different projects I'd promised to work on) and the second week camping in the mountains with my sister from Calgary. I'm not too sure how things will all work out now as there is a family medical emergency with one of my brothers-in-law. I am trying to get all these projects all caught up so I'm free to go if need be. I was up by 6:00 yesterday morning to pick, wash, prepare, and pickle yellow beans and cucumbers, and also picked and shelled two rows of peas before supper. I think I was asleep the minute my head hit the pillow last night. There's nothing like a hloiday weekend to make you feel relaxed, eh?
Saturday, July 21, 2007
A HOT TIME IN THE OLD FIELD TONIGHT
You'll have to forgive me for being late with this blog - things have been pretty crazy around here lately.
We are into haying now - full force. Glen has the first 80 acres baled and had a guy with a bale mover truck haul them all home so I guess you can say Part One is done. The second field he is working on is half cut and the hay has been curing for most of this week now. The humidity is out of this world these days so the plant matter is taking a long time to dry out. It was finally ready to bale on Thursday afternoon so Glen started his work day (running grader to build an access road into an oil well site) at 4:00 AM so that he could get home early to bale. When I got home from work I did the chores and then tried to call him on his cell phone to see if he wanted me to pick him up at dark. I got the usual recording - that he was out of the service area - which is pretty hard to take when he's only a half mile away and I can hear the tractor from where I was standing on the deck. So, I jumped in the truck and drove down to ask him in person. Well I told him I had tried to call him he said that I would probably never call him again on his cell phone - he was pretty sure it had gone through the baler.
He even had staked out which bale it likely was in and we tried calling it to see if he could hear the ringing, but no dice. I'm telling you - he is one sad puppy these days - with all the people he works with in the oilfield he had his number memory just about full. He is due for a free up grade of the phone, but he'll never get his information back. He never is very sympathetic when my computer crashes and I lose my stuff - maybe now he'll understand. Mitchell and I have hauled his suspect bale home and opened it up and found nothing. I don't know where it is, but the battery has gone dead in it now so it can't even tell us where it is.
Glen went off to work on Friday and Mitchell came out at noon to start baling. He was barely even started when I got a phone call at work from him saying that he had smoke coming out of the baler! Glen was unreachable, remember, so it was good old Mom who got the call. He used his thermos of drinking water on it but that didn't seem to do any good so I told him to get the whole tractor and baler unit over to a slough with some water in it and get ready to unhook, and I left my part time, Rhonda, holding down the fort at the post office and tore home. Another neighbor had come to help and between us all we got the fire out but couldn't really decipher what had caused it. It was just best to leave it and let Glen figure it out.
It had cooled down enough for him to get right into it by the time he got home and he found a bearing that had gone to pieces, so this morning's job was to get new parts and put it back together again. After an early dinner Mick went baling and Glen filled the chop bin while I tried to clean up flower beds and do a week's worth of house work. The weather is just plain ugly with the heat and humidity. I should be mowing grass tonight but I just can't face going outside again. So far the nights have been cooling the house off nicely - I sure hope it keeps it up. I just plain don't do well in heat.
Mick was having trouble with the baler again in the late afternoon so Glen went out and took over ( I think he wanted a turn in the air conditioned cab, myself), but the humidity had come up so much that he didn't keep at it for long. Damp bales are just a fire hazard because they rot, and heat, and then combust into flames. It always seems so strange to think that something can be a fire hazard because it's too wet, but the last thing you want is a couple of hot bales in your hay stack - you could lose your whole feed supply for a year that way. I hope we've already had our one fire of the year.
We are into haying now - full force. Glen has the first 80 acres baled and had a guy with a bale mover truck haul them all home so I guess you can say Part One is done. The second field he is working on is half cut and the hay has been curing for most of this week now. The humidity is out of this world these days so the plant matter is taking a long time to dry out. It was finally ready to bale on Thursday afternoon so Glen started his work day (running grader to build an access road into an oil well site) at 4:00 AM so that he could get home early to bale. When I got home from work I did the chores and then tried to call him on his cell phone to see if he wanted me to pick him up at dark. I got the usual recording - that he was out of the service area - which is pretty hard to take when he's only a half mile away and I can hear the tractor from where I was standing on the deck. So, I jumped in the truck and drove down to ask him in person. Well I told him I had tried to call him he said that I would probably never call him again on his cell phone - he was pretty sure it had gone through the baler.
He even had staked out which bale it likely was in and we tried calling it to see if he could hear the ringing, but no dice. I'm telling you - he is one sad puppy these days - with all the people he works with in the oilfield he had his number memory just about full. He is due for a free up grade of the phone, but he'll never get his information back. He never is very sympathetic when my computer crashes and I lose my stuff - maybe now he'll understand. Mitchell and I have hauled his suspect bale home and opened it up and found nothing. I don't know where it is, but the battery has gone dead in it now so it can't even tell us where it is.
Glen went off to work on Friday and Mitchell came out at noon to start baling. He was barely even started when I got a phone call at work from him saying that he had smoke coming out of the baler! Glen was unreachable, remember, so it was good old Mom who got the call. He used his thermos of drinking water on it but that didn't seem to do any good so I told him to get the whole tractor and baler unit over to a slough with some water in it and get ready to unhook, and I left my part time, Rhonda, holding down the fort at the post office and tore home. Another neighbor had come to help and between us all we got the fire out but couldn't really decipher what had caused it. It was just best to leave it and let Glen figure it out.
It had cooled down enough for him to get right into it by the time he got home and he found a bearing that had gone to pieces, so this morning's job was to get new parts and put it back together again. After an early dinner Mick went baling and Glen filled the chop bin while I tried to clean up flower beds and do a week's worth of house work. The weather is just plain ugly with the heat and humidity. I should be mowing grass tonight but I just can't face going outside again. So far the nights have been cooling the house off nicely - I sure hope it keeps it up. I just plain don't do well in heat.
Mick was having trouble with the baler again in the late afternoon so Glen went out and took over ( I think he wanted a turn in the air conditioned cab, myself), but the humidity had come up so much that he didn't keep at it for long. Damp bales are just a fire hazard because they rot, and heat, and then combust into flames. It always seems so strange to think that something can be a fire hazard because it's too wet, but the last thing you want is a couple of hot bales in your hay stack - you could lose your whole feed supply for a year that way. I hope we've already had our one fire of the year.
Monday, July 02, 2007
It's another steamy day out there today. I managaed to get some of the lawn cut later on yesterday afternoon, but there is still so much to do - hopefully the temperature will drop later on and I can get at it again. Meanwhile I'll hide out in the house and find other things to do.
We celebrated Canada's birthday last night by having family and friends over for a bonfire and fireworks after the sun went down. Being as we're not exactly fireworks experts, we are never sure of what we're getting until we light them. This batch was really nice with lots of variety in colors and design. The little kids were impressed, and the cattle right across the road were not. After the first few went off we could see them in the twilight, turning tail and running for the other end of the pasture for saftey. There was absolutley no wind by that time of the day, so the smoke just hung in the moist air - it was a neat effect to see the fireworks shooting out of the low smoke cloud, and up into the clear sky above. After the pyrotechnic show was over Mother Nature took ove with dozens of fireflies drifting around the yard showing off their natural glow, and the full moon rose just before midnight. There were a few mosquitos, but not enough to drive us inside.
Glen has been gearing up for haying. He has a neighbor's son hired to come and cut the hay with his crimper. This machine cuts the crop and makes several crimps in the stems so that the moisture can dry out faster. To make the best hay, you need it to dry out just enough to hold the nutrients but as quickly as possible so that it doesn't have time to get rained on, or start to rot or get moldy. Last year the weather was perfect for making hay - I wonder if we can manage two years in a row? We have a lot to do this year as Glen has planted another whole quarter section done to tame hay now. He will get the guy who is cutting it to leave a day or two between aech 80 acres or so. It would be a very bad thing to have all 300 acres laying on the ground if it rained.
It's hard to believe that we are into July already. Now that we don't have kids in school, summer holidays kind of sneak up on a person. I have been trying to talk Glen into some kind of a holiday in the next two months, but he's a pretty hard guy to get off the farm. Too much depends on the weather and how fast the hay can be put up and hauled home. He tells me that if I want a holiday I will have to make my own plans, so it looks like I will head west and go camping in the mountains with my sister for a week. I'm looking forward to it.
We celebrated Canada's birthday last night by having family and friends over for a bonfire and fireworks after the sun went down. Being as we're not exactly fireworks experts, we are never sure of what we're getting until we light them. This batch was really nice with lots of variety in colors and design. The little kids were impressed, and the cattle right across the road were not. After the first few went off we could see them in the twilight, turning tail and running for the other end of the pasture for saftey. There was absolutley no wind by that time of the day, so the smoke just hung in the moist air - it was a neat effect to see the fireworks shooting out of the low smoke cloud, and up into the clear sky above. After the pyrotechnic show was over Mother Nature took ove with dozens of fireflies drifting around the yard showing off their natural glow, and the full moon rose just before midnight. There were a few mosquitos, but not enough to drive us inside.
Glen has been gearing up for haying. He has a neighbor's son hired to come and cut the hay with his crimper. This machine cuts the crop and makes several crimps in the stems so that the moisture can dry out faster. To make the best hay, you need it to dry out just enough to hold the nutrients but as quickly as possible so that it doesn't have time to get rained on, or start to rot or get moldy. Last year the weather was perfect for making hay - I wonder if we can manage two years in a row? We have a lot to do this year as Glen has planted another whole quarter section done to tame hay now. He will get the guy who is cutting it to leave a day or two between aech 80 acres or so. It would be a very bad thing to have all 300 acres laying on the ground if it rained.
It's hard to believe that we are into July already. Now that we don't have kids in school, summer holidays kind of sneak up on a person. I have been trying to talk Glen into some kind of a holiday in the next two months, but he's a pretty hard guy to get off the farm. Too much depends on the weather and how fast the hay can be put up and hauled home. He tells me that if I want a holiday I will have to make my own plans, so it looks like I will head west and go camping in the mountains with my sister for a week. I'm looking forward to it.
Saturday, June 16, 2007
THE PRAIRIES IN JUNE
Last time I was hiding out from too much heat and humidity, this time I can't mow lawn yet (it's almost 10:00 in the morning) because the grass is just saturated. It will do nothing but clog the mower and make a terrible mess of the yard. I guess it's a good thing I have these setbacks outside, or I'd never get anything done inside, eh?
We have had some serious rains this week. Monday was a night of wild weather, but mostly to the west and north of here. We sat out on our deck and watched the light show all evening, and knew that there had been hail somewhere because of how the temperature had dropped so much, but besides about a dozen hailstones about the size of marbles falling just at sunset, we didn't get anything to speak of. It wasn't until the next morning we heard that Carlyle (40 miles to the west) received quite the beating with egg sized hail, and friends of ours 20 miles northwest of us had almost three inches of rain. It's always interesting to see how the lay of the land works - There are those twenty miles between us and it took from Monday night until Thursday morning for the water to work it's way downstream to where I cross the creek to go to town. I'd already had time to forget about how much rain they had, and then suddenly, there was a small lake at the bridge! With the creek running with more force that we saw at snowmelt this spring.
Everything is so green right now. Especially my garden - which is another thing I would like to be doing, but it's also too wet to weed. Thursday afternoon, just after I arrived home from work, the skies opened up and we got a half inch of rain in ten minutes or less. It was coming down so hard I couldn't see out of the yard. Needless to say, there are some parts of our lawn that are still under water, and although the water isn't covering the garden anymore, to try to walk on it would be silly. I would just sink to my ankles.
Glen and I went up to check the cattle on 21 the other night. He has cut the larger pasture into four smaller chunks and is trying to get more grazing power out of the land by restricting where they can graze. Cattle develope their favourite spots and over-graze them while leaving other spots untouched so if you don't let them have their own choice, they do a better job of utilizing the whole pasture. Our walk that night was to see if they needed to be moved again. With all the rain, the pasture is in fine shape so it will wait for a while yet. What we did discover was that something had pulled all the wires out of the solar power panel and battery apparatus that runs the electric fencer. The wires were completely chewed off as well. It's still a mystery what happened, but likely it was a bunch of coyote or fox pups teething on the strange stuff left in the field. Glen went up to fix it and built a separate little live-wired fence around the system to discourage a second attack. They'll think twice about getting too close this time!
You can tell it's really summer on the prairies now - when you sit outside at night around the fire pit there are fireflies to watch drifting around the yard, foxes and coyotes yipping and howling in the background, and humming birds buzzing back and forth to the feeders. We're not all about huge tractors and fields of grain.
We have had some serious rains this week. Monday was a night of wild weather, but mostly to the west and north of here. We sat out on our deck and watched the light show all evening, and knew that there had been hail somewhere because of how the temperature had dropped so much, but besides about a dozen hailstones about the size of marbles falling just at sunset, we didn't get anything to speak of. It wasn't until the next morning we heard that Carlyle (40 miles to the west) received quite the beating with egg sized hail, and friends of ours 20 miles northwest of us had almost three inches of rain. It's always interesting to see how the lay of the land works - There are those twenty miles between us and it took from Monday night until Thursday morning for the water to work it's way downstream to where I cross the creek to go to town. I'd already had time to forget about how much rain they had, and then suddenly, there was a small lake at the bridge! With the creek running with more force that we saw at snowmelt this spring.
Everything is so green right now. Especially my garden - which is another thing I would like to be doing, but it's also too wet to weed. Thursday afternoon, just after I arrived home from work, the skies opened up and we got a half inch of rain in ten minutes or less. It was coming down so hard I couldn't see out of the yard. Needless to say, there are some parts of our lawn that are still under water, and although the water isn't covering the garden anymore, to try to walk on it would be silly. I would just sink to my ankles.
Glen and I went up to check the cattle on 21 the other night. He has cut the larger pasture into four smaller chunks and is trying to get more grazing power out of the land by restricting where they can graze. Cattle develope their favourite spots and over-graze them while leaving other spots untouched so if you don't let them have their own choice, they do a better job of utilizing the whole pasture. Our walk that night was to see if they needed to be moved again. With all the rain, the pasture is in fine shape so it will wait for a while yet. What we did discover was that something had pulled all the wires out of the solar power panel and battery apparatus that runs the electric fencer. The wires were completely chewed off as well. It's still a mystery what happened, but likely it was a bunch of coyote or fox pups teething on the strange stuff left in the field. Glen went up to fix it and built a separate little live-wired fence around the system to discourage a second attack. They'll think twice about getting too close this time!
You can tell it's really summer on the prairies now - when you sit outside at night around the fire pit there are fireflies to watch drifting around the yard, foxes and coyotes yipping and howling in the background, and humming birds buzzing back and forth to the feeders. We're not all about huge tractors and fields of grain.
Sunday, June 03, 2007
TOO HOT TO BE OUTSIDE
After weeks of cool and rainy, someone turned up the thermostat out there. For all the plant life the heat and sunshine are fantastic, but for at least this one human being, the heat and humidity is more than I can adjust to in one day. I'm hiding out inside and trying to think of things to keep me busy so I don't feel guilty about the unmowed grass and unplanted bedding plants.
Almost eveyone is done seeding their crops in this neck of the woods, although, to the north a couple hundred miles, it's quite a different story. They were way too wet last year, and the heavy snow pack they got this winter didn't improve their conditions any. We had that in 1999, we remember it well.
Glen is finally back to work in the oilfield after almost two months of breakup. Every spring, when the frost comes out of the ground and roads get soft, road banns come on restricting heavy traffic. This pretty much shuts down the oil business until the roads are back in shape again. This year, with all the rains we've had, the roads have remained soft, and the men have remained off work. This past week, rigs are finally drilling again, and here's hoping that secondary industries can be up and running this week. Mitchell works for a company that installs pipelines between well and tanks, or does reclamations which means that they return the land at old oil well sites back to farmable land - both of these jobs require dry conditions, so they haven't been back to work at all. This week looks better. So far.
I spent last Sunday planting my vegetable garden and with the heat of the last two days, things are just popping out of the ground. Looks like the potatoes are all coming at once and the radishes, lettuce and onions are all above ground as well. Can't wait for that first fresh salad!
I've also been mowing lawn (well, mostly dandelions at the this time of the year) steady since the middle of May. I have all my bedding plants sitting on the deck waiting for their move to real soil, but if the heat today wouldn't kill them today, it sure as heck would finish me off. I've never been the kind of person who could tolerate much heat - and the sun just leaves my skin crispy fried.
We have two calves that we have to bottle feed again this year: Circle Bob, (don't ask, it's a long story) whose mother doesn't have any milk for some reason, and Itty Bitty, who is so tiny that we thought we'd augment what her mama gives her. They are becoming real pets.
Almost eveyone is done seeding their crops in this neck of the woods, although, to the north a couple hundred miles, it's quite a different story. They were way too wet last year, and the heavy snow pack they got this winter didn't improve their conditions any. We had that in 1999, we remember it well.
Glen is finally back to work in the oilfield after almost two months of breakup. Every spring, when the frost comes out of the ground and roads get soft, road banns come on restricting heavy traffic. This pretty much shuts down the oil business until the roads are back in shape again. This year, with all the rains we've had, the roads have remained soft, and the men have remained off work. This past week, rigs are finally drilling again, and here's hoping that secondary industries can be up and running this week. Mitchell works for a company that installs pipelines between well and tanks, or does reclamations which means that they return the land at old oil well sites back to farmable land - both of these jobs require dry conditions, so they haven't been back to work at all. This week looks better. So far.
I spent last Sunday planting my vegetable garden and with the heat of the last two days, things are just popping out of the ground. Looks like the potatoes are all coming at once and the radishes, lettuce and onions are all above ground as well. Can't wait for that first fresh salad!
I've also been mowing lawn (well, mostly dandelions at the this time of the year) steady since the middle of May. I have all my bedding plants sitting on the deck waiting for their move to real soil, but if the heat today wouldn't kill them today, it sure as heck would finish me off. I've never been the kind of person who could tolerate much heat - and the sun just leaves my skin crispy fried.
We have two calves that we have to bottle feed again this year: Circle Bob, (don't ask, it's a long story) whose mother doesn't have any milk for some reason, and Itty Bitty, who is so tiny that we thought we'd augment what her mama gives her. They are becoming real pets.
Monday, May 21, 2007
A SOGGY LONG WEEKEND
I can't believe that it's already been almost a month since I sat down to catch up my blog. They say that time flies when you're having fun, but I don't recall all that much extra fun going on around here lately. Maybe I'll have to own up to being lazy!
Spring is a busy time with my job as postmaster in Redvers. Not that the actual work in the office increases, but it is when my supervisor plans her annual meetings or training sessions. I've been to Estevan twice, one of the trips an overnight stay, and last week saw quite a few postmasters from rural Sask. in Regina for a day's training on health and saftey as well. It is always good to get together with your peers, so I always look forward to the meetings, but three in one month takes a lot of time out of what I spend on my jobs at home. I would normally have my garden planted by now, and all my bedding plants bought, if not planted, but this year all I have in the ground are the potatoes.
This weekend was going to be when I got the rest in but it's been taking turns with either rain or drizzle all weekend. Saturday afternoon, with Sandy's help, I managed to get 90% of the lawn mowed during a semi-dry period of the day. She had wanted to help me plant the garden too, but that just didn't work - she's back in Winnipeg, and it's still raining.
Sunday - morning and afternoon - Sandy, Mitchell, Glen, and I brought all the cattle in from the calving pasture and sorted them into smaller herds according to which cows go with which bull for the summer. It was a cold, damp job with the odd little hold up to make the day interesting. Glen had the list of "who goes where" in his head, so once we had them all crammed into the sorting pen, Mitchell manned the gate and Sandy and I stood by to push the animals he chose through to the gate. First he would go into the group of animals and bring out the mother he wanted, and once we had her penned on the far side, he would go back in to find the corresponding calf. They are all ear-tagged with their mother's number as soon as they are born, so this should be no problem.
All except for the time when we discoverd we had two cows tagged with 421. How on Earth we've gone for years not noticing this before is anyone's guess, but it sure stumped us yesterday. My theory is that, at some time in the past, one of them was 427 but the numbers have faded and the 7 was taken for a 1. At least we discovered this before we sent a calf with the wrong mother. As it was, there was at least one calf that kept running back to the yard all afternoon, and we went out before sunset to double check that we hadn't made a mistake. Mother cows will not let a strange calf nurse off them, so if you make a sorting mistake you could have two calves starve to death, and two mamas bawl themselves hoarse looking for their rightful babies.
We have just a few more acres of ground to plant. Glen had ten acres of corn that he swath grazed after freeze-up last fall, and it worked so well he has enough seed for thirty this year. Corn is pretty susceptable to frost so we won't put it in the ground until it warms up a bit more. And, as corn also needs a longer growing season, if it gets too late before it gets warm, he'll save the seed for next year. Corn seed is just too expensive to throw away at a poor weather year.
Tomorrow Glen heads back to working off the farm preparing oil leases; break-up is over. In the spring, when the frost comes out of the ground, the roads can't handle the heavy traffic of oil trucks and the rig moving equipment so road banns go on about mid March. It stops the oil industry in its tracks for at least six weeks. It gives the rig workers a break and the companies time to do some maintenance, but by now, everyone is raring to go again - it's a long time between pay checks.
Spring is a busy time with my job as postmaster in Redvers. Not that the actual work in the office increases, but it is when my supervisor plans her annual meetings or training sessions. I've been to Estevan twice, one of the trips an overnight stay, and last week saw quite a few postmasters from rural Sask. in Regina for a day's training on health and saftey as well. It is always good to get together with your peers, so I always look forward to the meetings, but three in one month takes a lot of time out of what I spend on my jobs at home. I would normally have my garden planted by now, and all my bedding plants bought, if not planted, but this year all I have in the ground are the potatoes.
This weekend was going to be when I got the rest in but it's been taking turns with either rain or drizzle all weekend. Saturday afternoon, with Sandy's help, I managed to get 90% of the lawn mowed during a semi-dry period of the day. She had wanted to help me plant the garden too, but that just didn't work - she's back in Winnipeg, and it's still raining.
Sunday - morning and afternoon - Sandy, Mitchell, Glen, and I brought all the cattle in from the calving pasture and sorted them into smaller herds according to which cows go with which bull for the summer. It was a cold, damp job with the odd little hold up to make the day interesting. Glen had the list of "who goes where" in his head, so once we had them all crammed into the sorting pen, Mitchell manned the gate and Sandy and I stood by to push the animals he chose through to the gate. First he would go into the group of animals and bring out the mother he wanted, and once we had her penned on the far side, he would go back in to find the corresponding calf. They are all ear-tagged with their mother's number as soon as they are born, so this should be no problem.
All except for the time when we discoverd we had two cows tagged with 421. How on Earth we've gone for years not noticing this before is anyone's guess, but it sure stumped us yesterday. My theory is that, at some time in the past, one of them was 427 but the numbers have faded and the 7 was taken for a 1. At least we discovered this before we sent a calf with the wrong mother. As it was, there was at least one calf that kept running back to the yard all afternoon, and we went out before sunset to double check that we hadn't made a mistake. Mother cows will not let a strange calf nurse off them, so if you make a sorting mistake you could have two calves starve to death, and two mamas bawl themselves hoarse looking for their rightful babies.
We have just a few more acres of ground to plant. Glen had ten acres of corn that he swath grazed after freeze-up last fall, and it worked so well he has enough seed for thirty this year. Corn is pretty susceptable to frost so we won't put it in the ground until it warms up a bit more. And, as corn also needs a longer growing season, if it gets too late before it gets warm, he'll save the seed for next year. Corn seed is just too expensive to throw away at a poor weather year.
Tomorrow Glen heads back to working off the farm preparing oil leases; break-up is over. In the spring, when the frost comes out of the ground, the roads can't handle the heavy traffic of oil trucks and the rig moving equipment so road banns go on about mid March. It stops the oil industry in its tracks for at least six weeks. It gives the rig workers a break and the companies time to do some maintenance, but by now, everyone is raring to go again - it's a long time between pay checks.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
We've had two beautiful days in a row his week. That might not mean much to some readers, but here in Saskatchewan, in April, it's pretty special. Late this afternoon it clouded over and we've had the odd sprinkle since then. As most farmers have been gearing up for seeding, this weather is not all that welcome. I don't think anyone would turn down a really good soaking rain, but drizzle will just hold up seeding and not contribute real moisture at all.
Anyone watching the news is probably wondering why I would be talking about needing rain. The areas hit by the flooding are hundreds of miles to the north. Here, in the southeast, we could use a rain, and out west they are desperate for it. This province is a very big place.
This past week we've been cross fencing the pasture on 21, cutting it into four pieces so we'll be able to control where the cows graze, and for how long. With just one fence around the whole thing, they can go where they please which means they don't graze it to its full potential. They have their favourite plants to eat, and favourite places to spend the hot summer afternoons. A lot of the nutrition value of the pasture is left, or trampled, in their daily trecks. Once this fence is done, they will have to graze one quarter of it at a time. The literature that we've read on this intensive pasturing method says that the vegetation also responds to the heavier grazing by becoming more vigorous. Of course, we'll have to keep watch on the land and the cattle and switch the pastures when necessary.
We have Jesse's friend, Jenn, a fellow Ag student, staying with us for the summer while she's working in town at the Coop. She may be from the city, but she dives right in when it comes to doing farm chores. On Sunday Jenn, Glen, Mitchell, and I spent the day fencing ... and collecting woodticks. There's nothing like a warm, spring day to bring them out of the woodwork. It only takes one of those nasty little bugs to show up, and pretty soon every little tickle you feel (and imagine) is another one. Glen was out fencing by himself today and said he hit one stretch of fenceline that just seemed to be crawling with them. This evening, having gone out to check cattle with him tonight, and sitting on the seat where Sam, the dog, sat I can't shake the feeling that I, too, have been infested with creepy crawlies. I think that this calls for a shower.
Yucky as woodticks are though, Glen says there is something worse. It is just ridiculous that a grown man can be so freaked out by a tiny little garter snake, but he really can't handle them. I don't want them anywhere near my house, and I'm not too crazy about being surprised by one, but I'm not afraid of them! The reason Glen took Sam with him today was for snake patrol - I wonder if Sam realized that? He probably thought he was on some kind of holiday or adventure on land he'd never explored before. Glen said it didn't matter - he didn't see one snake all day, and that's what counted.
Calving season is going along nicely - we now have 30 calves with another 22 to go. The really unusual thing this year is that the ratio of heifers to bulls is so lop-sided. There are only six bulls out there! Glen says he's going to blame Global Warming - he has no basis, of course, it's just a really good conversation starter.
Anyone watching the news is probably wondering why I would be talking about needing rain. The areas hit by the flooding are hundreds of miles to the north. Here, in the southeast, we could use a rain, and out west they are desperate for it. This province is a very big place.
This past week we've been cross fencing the pasture on 21, cutting it into four pieces so we'll be able to control where the cows graze, and for how long. With just one fence around the whole thing, they can go where they please which means they don't graze it to its full potential. They have their favourite plants to eat, and favourite places to spend the hot summer afternoons. A lot of the nutrition value of the pasture is left, or trampled, in their daily trecks. Once this fence is done, they will have to graze one quarter of it at a time. The literature that we've read on this intensive pasturing method says that the vegetation also responds to the heavier grazing by becoming more vigorous. Of course, we'll have to keep watch on the land and the cattle and switch the pastures when necessary.
We have Jesse's friend, Jenn, a fellow Ag student, staying with us for the summer while she's working in town at the Coop. She may be from the city, but she dives right in when it comes to doing farm chores. On Sunday Jenn, Glen, Mitchell, and I spent the day fencing ... and collecting woodticks. There's nothing like a warm, spring day to bring them out of the woodwork. It only takes one of those nasty little bugs to show up, and pretty soon every little tickle you feel (and imagine) is another one. Glen was out fencing by himself today and said he hit one stretch of fenceline that just seemed to be crawling with them. This evening, having gone out to check cattle with him tonight, and sitting on the seat where Sam, the dog, sat I can't shake the feeling that I, too, have been infested with creepy crawlies. I think that this calls for a shower.
Yucky as woodticks are though, Glen says there is something worse. It is just ridiculous that a grown man can be so freaked out by a tiny little garter snake, but he really can't handle them. I don't want them anywhere near my house, and I'm not too crazy about being surprised by one, but I'm not afraid of them! The reason Glen took Sam with him today was for snake patrol - I wonder if Sam realized that? He probably thought he was on some kind of holiday or adventure on land he'd never explored before. Glen said it didn't matter - he didn't see one snake all day, and that's what counted.
Calving season is going along nicely - we now have 30 calves with another 22 to go. The really unusual thing this year is that the ratio of heifers to bulls is so lop-sided. There are only six bulls out there! Glen says he's going to blame Global Warming - he has no basis, of course, it's just a really good conversation starter.
Monday, April 09, 2007
EASTER WEEKEND ON THE FARM
It's Easter Monday, and the weather is the usual fare for Saskatchewan in April - it's windy out there. Our family's gathering was on Saturday night and we hosted the feast here. There were sixteen of us so there was lots of noise and laughter. It's hard to tell who makes the most noise though, the three kids who were present, or the uncles with their jokes and wisecracks. It's always entertaining, though.
With the big meal behind us and the girls gone back to Winnipeg for their end-of-term exams, Sunday was a very quiet day. It must be more than three decades since the Easter bunny started coming to our house, but this year there were no eggs to be had. It seemed very strange.
I went to church in the morning- it was a longer service but we got to sing the joyous Easter hymns so it didn't seem long at all. After lunch Glen and I spent a good part of the afternoon outside doing chores and checking on the animals. One really cold night last week there was a calf born who was nigh on to frozen when Glen found him. We brought him and his mama into the barn and worked on warming him up. He didn't have the strength to suck even a bottle so we had to tube him to get some warm milk into him. Usually once does the trick, but he just couldn't seem to get it together enough to look for mama and her milk on his own. He had to be fed (tubed) 4 or 5 more times. The last two times Glen had to rope the cow and tie her solid (back and front) to the corral fence so that he could milk her. We have powdered milk that we had been mixing up for the calf, but there comes a time when if the cow isn't milked out she will shut down milk production and then when the calf can suck, she doesn't have anything for him.
Milking a wild cow is an adventure, even when she's tied solid to sturdy wooden posts. Thank goodness he only had to do it twice - this morning when we went out you could see that she had been milked out on the side Glen hadn't touched last night so baby must have finally figured it out. He is looking a lot perkier today; I think he's going to make it.
I have today off from work too, so we spent all morning out there again doing chores and sorting cattle out. Somehow one of the bulls got out into the cow herd this morning. That's not a good thing because chances are his incentive for the breakout was a cow in heat. We don't like having calves in January but we better be on the lookout for that next year. With all the new mamas out in the pasture, there is no telling who, or how many, were ready to be bred again.
We are having a good calving season so far this year. The slow learner I mentioned being the hardest trial we've had so far. We did have to go out and walk the pasture this morning because one mama was frantically looking for her baby and couldn't seem to find it. Turned out that another older cow had had her new baby close by where the lost one was laying and she wouldn't let it's mother close. Those new mothers are very territorial for the first little while after birth takes place. We were sure relieved to find the calf - there are coyotes all around and I while I was walking the fenceline I was very worried I was going to find leftovers from a coyote breakfast.
All the dug outs are full to overflowing now. Glen's has even starting filling in the low area around the actual holes he's dug. We're really surprised that there was that much water out there, it didn't seem like the snow pack was that great. The weather people are busy telling us that we could get another four inches of snow tonight so before dark we'll be back out there taking extra staw out for bedding for the babies out in the pasture. We don't want any more frozen calves to have to mess with - better that their mamas can provide all the one-on-one care - just leave the humans out of that equation if possible.
With the big meal behind us and the girls gone back to Winnipeg for their end-of-term exams, Sunday was a very quiet day. It must be more than three decades since the Easter bunny started coming to our house, but this year there were no eggs to be had. It seemed very strange.
I went to church in the morning- it was a longer service but we got to sing the joyous Easter hymns so it didn't seem long at all. After lunch Glen and I spent a good part of the afternoon outside doing chores and checking on the animals. One really cold night last week there was a calf born who was nigh on to frozen when Glen found him. We brought him and his mama into the barn and worked on warming him up. He didn't have the strength to suck even a bottle so we had to tube him to get some warm milk into him. Usually once does the trick, but he just couldn't seem to get it together enough to look for mama and her milk on his own. He had to be fed (tubed) 4 or 5 more times. The last two times Glen had to rope the cow and tie her solid (back and front) to the corral fence so that he could milk her. We have powdered milk that we had been mixing up for the calf, but there comes a time when if the cow isn't milked out she will shut down milk production and then when the calf can suck, she doesn't have anything for him.
Milking a wild cow is an adventure, even when she's tied solid to sturdy wooden posts. Thank goodness he only had to do it twice - this morning when we went out you could see that she had been milked out on the side Glen hadn't touched last night so baby must have finally figured it out. He is looking a lot perkier today; I think he's going to make it.
I have today off from work too, so we spent all morning out there again doing chores and sorting cattle out. Somehow one of the bulls got out into the cow herd this morning. That's not a good thing because chances are his incentive for the breakout was a cow in heat. We don't like having calves in January but we better be on the lookout for that next year. With all the new mamas out in the pasture, there is no telling who, or how many, were ready to be bred again.
We are having a good calving season so far this year. The slow learner I mentioned being the hardest trial we've had so far. We did have to go out and walk the pasture this morning because one mama was frantically looking for her baby and couldn't seem to find it. Turned out that another older cow had had her new baby close by where the lost one was laying and she wouldn't let it's mother close. Those new mothers are very territorial for the first little while after birth takes place. We were sure relieved to find the calf - there are coyotes all around and I while I was walking the fenceline I was very worried I was going to find leftovers from a coyote breakfast.
All the dug outs are full to overflowing now. Glen's has even starting filling in the low area around the actual holes he's dug. We're really surprised that there was that much water out there, it didn't seem like the snow pack was that great. The weather people are busy telling us that we could get another four inches of snow tonight so before dark we'll be back out there taking extra staw out for bedding for the babies out in the pasture. We don't want any more frozen calves to have to mess with - better that their mamas can provide all the one-on-one care - just leave the humans out of that equation if possible.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
DUELLING DUGOUTS
The spring melt is underway and the low spots are starting to fill up. It's hard to tell how much water is actually in the snow until the end of the melt, but we're hopeful that this winter's snowfall will be plentiful.
Glen is busy trying to stay ahead of the melt just south of the house where he started digging a dugout last fall. He did get a nice start to it, and was building a bit of a ridge to hold water in a natural depression in the field too, when the CAT he had leased was needed elsewhere and he had to quit. A week ago the CAT was delivered back here to finish the job, but in the meanwhile the first hole he had dug had filled with water. Instead of inlarging that one he had to move over and start again - which, two days into that dig, is filling as well. We're not complaining about the water, but this project is going to be shut down by sundown tonight - CATs are not amphibious.
Over the Christmas holidays a year ago, our daughter Jesse wanted to learn how to run an earthmover so Glen had leased this CAT and showed her the ropes up on our pasture. It took her the better part of a week, but she ended up with a sizable hole. And that's all it's ever been; just a dry hole. All year she has taken a lot of kidding about this lack of water in her dugout. At one point we even found a deer skeleton at the bottom and told her that even the wildlife were dying of thirst in her "watering hole" (although it was more than likely the work of coyotes).
The truth is, that if we had had any decent precipitation last year, that hole should have been at least half full by now - it is dug in a low spot, right along the edge of a creek that normally runs every spring. Although we've given Jesse the blame, it's been Mother Nature who's been holding out on us.
This spring, though, looks more promising. I texted her this morning to tell her that she has three feet of water! Within the hour, her dad reported that he has three feet in his brand new dugout as well - hence he was still the best dugout digger in the family. As he races to finish his dig before he's swamped, I'm pretty sure that he would rather the water would just hold off a little longer. But he'll never tell Jesse that.
We have had our first new calf of the season. Two years ago we bought a bull that (according to statistics) was going to sire smaller calves - something you want with fist time calvers. He didn't live up to his stats - we had more trouble with calves too big to be born that we've ever had before. Every heifer needed assistance and we lost 1/3 of the babies. Last year we bought another bull and put him with the heifers, and it's his baby out there - definately smaller than usual, but bright, perky, and very much alive. I think this new guy gets all the heifers from now on.
Glen is busy trying to stay ahead of the melt just south of the house where he started digging a dugout last fall. He did get a nice start to it, and was building a bit of a ridge to hold water in a natural depression in the field too, when the CAT he had leased was needed elsewhere and he had to quit. A week ago the CAT was delivered back here to finish the job, but in the meanwhile the first hole he had dug had filled with water. Instead of inlarging that one he had to move over and start again - which, two days into that dig, is filling as well. We're not complaining about the water, but this project is going to be shut down by sundown tonight - CATs are not amphibious.
Over the Christmas holidays a year ago, our daughter Jesse wanted to learn how to run an earthmover so Glen had leased this CAT and showed her the ropes up on our pasture. It took her the better part of a week, but she ended up with a sizable hole. And that's all it's ever been; just a dry hole. All year she has taken a lot of kidding about this lack of water in her dugout. At one point we even found a deer skeleton at the bottom and told her that even the wildlife were dying of thirst in her "watering hole" (although it was more than likely the work of coyotes).
The truth is, that if we had had any decent precipitation last year, that hole should have been at least half full by now - it is dug in a low spot, right along the edge of a creek that normally runs every spring. Although we've given Jesse the blame, it's been Mother Nature who's been holding out on us.
This spring, though, looks more promising. I texted her this morning to tell her that she has three feet of water! Within the hour, her dad reported that he has three feet in his brand new dugout as well - hence he was still the best dugout digger in the family. As he races to finish his dig before he's swamped, I'm pretty sure that he would rather the water would just hold off a little longer. But he'll never tell Jesse that.
We have had our first new calf of the season. Two years ago we bought a bull that (according to statistics) was going to sire smaller calves - something you want with fist time calvers. He didn't live up to his stats - we had more trouble with calves too big to be born that we've ever had before. Every heifer needed assistance and we lost 1/3 of the babies. Last year we bought another bull and put him with the heifers, and it's his baby out there - definately smaller than usual, but bright, perky, and very much alive. I think this new guy gets all the heifers from now on.
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Has Spring Finally Sprung?
It is the 10th of March and we have finally seen temperatures above freezing! For three days in a row! If the people of Saskatchewan aren't the ones most worried by global warming, you'll have to fogive us - this has been one nasty, cold winter.
We are still hauling water to the cattle. They've settled down to needing two tanks a day; one in the morning and another at sundown. I guess they've got used to the routine, and so have we. If I'm home I'll go, and Glen hasn't been called in to work for most of this week so he's been here to do it on the days I worked. I can't see the use of an expensive dig when Mother Nature will be making water from snow in the next few weeks, so we'll carry on like this.
One thing that Mother Nature did do for us last week was dump about a foot of heavy, wet spring snow on us. There will be tons of runoff in this year's melt - just what we've been praying for, and we're grateful. We hear on the news that just over a 100 miles west of here the snow ends and they are facing the drought nightmare we've just barely dodged. From Weyburn to the Alberta border there is next to no snow.
We will soon be bringing our cows in from winter pasture; their babies are due to start arriving the first week of April so we'll want them in where they're easier to check on. We've got last year's calves on chop rations now - it's hard to believe that they were cute little fluffy creatures just a year ago, they are huge, hungry beasts now. They are still playful though - when I step into the pen with the pails of chop I watch them pretty close. They tend to run and kick up their heels when food arrives which is nice, you know that they're feeling good, but I'm certain that a happy kick from an 800 pound animal is going to hurt every bit as much as a malicious kick would.
Glen has spent this week carting all three bulls off to town to see the vet this week. One of them has what they called "woody tongue" when their tongue swells up and stiffens so they can't eat properly - they're treating him with an IV infusion to boost his iodine levels. He's been to town twice and is taking a long time to perk up. Our biggest bull had to go in because he had stepped on something sharp and got infection in his foot, and the last guy had a boil on his jaw that had to be drained. This might have been caused by the sharp barley beard spikes in their feed that poked into his cheek and caused infection. It's just coincidence that they should all end up needing to see the vet in one week, and it's not a bill I'm looking forward to getting!
I'm going to make the best of this day of sunshine ... there will be laundry hanging out in the fresh air before noon and some windows open to move some of this stale winter air out of the house. My aunt in England writes of flowers already blooming in her front garden but by Canadians standards, this will have to do.
We are still hauling water to the cattle. They've settled down to needing two tanks a day; one in the morning and another at sundown. I guess they've got used to the routine, and so have we. If I'm home I'll go, and Glen hasn't been called in to work for most of this week so he's been here to do it on the days I worked. I can't see the use of an expensive dig when Mother Nature will be making water from snow in the next few weeks, so we'll carry on like this.
One thing that Mother Nature did do for us last week was dump about a foot of heavy, wet spring snow on us. There will be tons of runoff in this year's melt - just what we've been praying for, and we're grateful. We hear on the news that just over a 100 miles west of here the snow ends and they are facing the drought nightmare we've just barely dodged. From Weyburn to the Alberta border there is next to no snow.
We will soon be bringing our cows in from winter pasture; their babies are due to start arriving the first week of April so we'll want them in where they're easier to check on. We've got last year's calves on chop rations now - it's hard to believe that they were cute little fluffy creatures just a year ago, they are huge, hungry beasts now. They are still playful though - when I step into the pen with the pails of chop I watch them pretty close. They tend to run and kick up their heels when food arrives which is nice, you know that they're feeling good, but I'm certain that a happy kick from an 800 pound animal is going to hurt every bit as much as a malicious kick would.
Glen has spent this week carting all three bulls off to town to see the vet this week. One of them has what they called "woody tongue" when their tongue swells up and stiffens so they can't eat properly - they're treating him with an IV infusion to boost his iodine levels. He's been to town twice and is taking a long time to perk up. Our biggest bull had to go in because he had stepped on something sharp and got infection in his foot, and the last guy had a boil on his jaw that had to be drained. This might have been caused by the sharp barley beard spikes in their feed that poked into his cheek and caused infection. It's just coincidence that they should all end up needing to see the vet in one week, and it's not a bill I'm looking forward to getting!
I'm going to make the best of this day of sunshine ... there will be laundry hanging out in the fresh air before noon and some windows open to move some of this stale winter air out of the house. My aunt in England writes of flowers already blooming in her front garden but by Canadians standards, this will have to do.
Sunday, February 18, 2007
ENOUGH ALREADY
It has been a very frustrating, work-intensive past two weeks. And the deep freeze temperatures we've been enduring have had more that their share to do with it. They say that it's supposed to get to the plus side of zero today - I'm not convinced since the sun isn't shining and the wind is blowing a skiff of snow around - but it is more civilized out there than is has been for three weeks.
The first week at nearly 40 below is par for the course; we can usually count on that at least once a winter. The second week, it a bit much, but we're tough, we made it through okay. That last week was a case of ENOUGH ALREADY! I'm a pretty complacent gal, but that was just too long.
And, by the middle of week two, how humans were dealing with the cold took second place to how it was affecting other things. I did the chores after dark on Thursday last week and, although I didn't go right over to see if the watering bowl was working there were a couple of animals over there and they looked like they were happily drinking water so we're assuming that things were going okay then. The next morning when Glen fed them their grain he found the waterers froze up, but wasn't too worried about it as he went off to work - he was sure that it was just a fuse to change to thaw out the water lines in the well house. He was so wrong.
The cattle out in the pasture are eating snow for their water intake, but the three bulls, about seven cows that need some TLC, and 47 feeder calves are in corral systems that don't give them access to enough fresh snow for them to be able to do the same. We have to provide them water and we have a water system that does this automatically. Or, until last week we did.
The house gets its water from a well, but the barn is set up to draw water from the duggout (about 250 feet from the barns) up to where four heated watering bowls self fill as the animals drink. Any problems that we've had before was when the watering bowl froze because the heater failed. This time the water line froze somewhere along that 250 foot stretch, and it's not an easy fix at all.
The underlying problem is probably the extremely low water table. Our duggout is only about half full. The line is buried at least eight feet deep so that the frost can't get down far enough to freeze the pipes, and normally, if the duggout was full, the water would cover the line as it enters the duggout, too. This year there just isn't enough cover to do the job. Possibly, if we had anticipated this happening, we could have spread bales for extra cover, but that's just a case of hindsight now. And, there's no time to sit and think about what should have been, there's water to haul!
It took Glen and Mitchell two days to get set up to water the animals with an above ground tank. They had to find a tank to haul water in, and one to haul it to. They had to insulate the watering tank so that it didn't freeze solid too, and those animals need about three truckloads per day to keep them happy. All this was done at 40 below with the wind chill, remember, but waiting for a better day wasn't an option.
Yesterday we three (Glen, Mitchell, and myself) spent the day trying to implement Glen's plan to thaw the pipes out from the well house end, but although it would work on paper, there are just too many feet of pipe to go through before we can get to the problem, and starting at the other end (chopping a hole in the ice and fishing out the other end) isn't an option. It was a very disappointed Glen who finally conceeded last night and will have to hire someone to come dig down beside the duggout and install a new intake pipe at a lower level than the one that froze, and splice it into the rest of the line. That'll cut into our profit margin this year!
But, as I said, the past day or two has been a little bit more bearable so at least we aren't freezing fingers and toes off when we're hauling water anymore. We are praying for lots and lots of snow though! I hope every single slough and pothole is full of water this spring.
The first week at nearly 40 below is par for the course; we can usually count on that at least once a winter. The second week, it a bit much, but we're tough, we made it through okay. That last week was a case of ENOUGH ALREADY! I'm a pretty complacent gal, but that was just too long.
And, by the middle of week two, how humans were dealing with the cold took second place to how it was affecting other things. I did the chores after dark on Thursday last week and, although I didn't go right over to see if the watering bowl was working there were a couple of animals over there and they looked like they were happily drinking water so we're assuming that things were going okay then. The next morning when Glen fed them their grain he found the waterers froze up, but wasn't too worried about it as he went off to work - he was sure that it was just a fuse to change to thaw out the water lines in the well house. He was so wrong.
The cattle out in the pasture are eating snow for their water intake, but the three bulls, about seven cows that need some TLC, and 47 feeder calves are in corral systems that don't give them access to enough fresh snow for them to be able to do the same. We have to provide them water and we have a water system that does this automatically. Or, until last week we did.
The house gets its water from a well, but the barn is set up to draw water from the duggout (about 250 feet from the barns) up to where four heated watering bowls self fill as the animals drink. Any problems that we've had before was when the watering bowl froze because the heater failed. This time the water line froze somewhere along that 250 foot stretch, and it's not an easy fix at all.
The underlying problem is probably the extremely low water table. Our duggout is only about half full. The line is buried at least eight feet deep so that the frost can't get down far enough to freeze the pipes, and normally, if the duggout was full, the water would cover the line as it enters the duggout, too. This year there just isn't enough cover to do the job. Possibly, if we had anticipated this happening, we could have spread bales for extra cover, but that's just a case of hindsight now. And, there's no time to sit and think about what should have been, there's water to haul!
It took Glen and Mitchell two days to get set up to water the animals with an above ground tank. They had to find a tank to haul water in, and one to haul it to. They had to insulate the watering tank so that it didn't freeze solid too, and those animals need about three truckloads per day to keep them happy. All this was done at 40 below with the wind chill, remember, but waiting for a better day wasn't an option.
Yesterday we three (Glen, Mitchell, and myself) spent the day trying to implement Glen's plan to thaw the pipes out from the well house end, but although it would work on paper, there are just too many feet of pipe to go through before we can get to the problem, and starting at the other end (chopping a hole in the ice and fishing out the other end) isn't an option. It was a very disappointed Glen who finally conceeded last night and will have to hire someone to come dig down beside the duggout and install a new intake pipe at a lower level than the one that froze, and splice it into the rest of the line. That'll cut into our profit margin this year!
But, as I said, the past day or two has been a little bit more bearable so at least we aren't freezing fingers and toes off when we're hauling water anymore. We are praying for lots and lots of snow though! I hope every single slough and pothole is full of water this spring.
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Dreaming of Sweetpeas
The winter must be starting to wear long on me; last night I dreamed of a whole hedge of sweet peas I had planted. Of course, looking back the whole thing was surreal - I had planted the seeds in a window box and they had spread downward, not up toward the sunlight. Actually, the craziest thing of all was that they had grown in the first place - I never have any luck with sweet peas. Regardless of how unrealistic the details of the dream were, though, the message is clear enough for me - my mind is starting to toy with the promise of spring, the colour of green, the scent of fresh-tilled earth. I know we're only about to start February, but the daylight hours are beginning their stretch, we're on the right track.
The weather has been playing with us this week. We've had really cold temperatures - and we've had two or three days at well above freezing. The last two days have had the wind just howling out of the northwest, picking up snow and blowing it across the highways where it stuck because the pavement was so warm. I was glad that I didn't have to go any further than to town and back.
Another sign that winter has been long enough is that I can't wait to hang the laundry out on the line to dry. The best part of a Saturday is bringing in those sheets and towels, and with them, the smell of FRESH. They can try all they want, no chemical perfume is ever going to be able to recreate fresh air and sunshine.
We still have two more months before our calf crop starts to arrive. At the moment the cows are all out on the pasture, and sheltering in a bale enclosure that Glen built for them. Other winters they've spent the whole winter in the barns, but Glen had planted grazing corn for them last spring so in order to utilize it they had to go to the feed, not have Glen bring it to them. We had to wait until the ground was good and frozen so they wouldn't trample it all into the ground and waste half the crop, and we needed a good supply of snow for them to eat because there is no water in that field. We didn't know how that was going to work out - this herd had always had access to water in the winter and we weren't sure how they would adapt to using snow instead. There was a week or so that they were pretty sure they needed to come home for water, but then they just settled right down. To tell the truth, we were aprehensive about it too. I know in the wild animals live off snow all winter, and our neighbour has been wintering his cattle like this for years, but when you've never tried it yourself, you just aren't sure.
Sometime this month Glen is going to start making chop for the herd again. The feeders have been getting whole oats and peas all winter, but closer to calving we'll be bringing the herd back to the corrals and stepping up their diet too. I'm kind of looking forward to this in a way - last year I set my mind to losing some weight. Although I cut back what I was eating right after New Year's Day, until I started helping fill and carry chop pails, nothing seemed to be happening. By the end of summer I had almost reached my goal, but there just wasn't enough physical activity to keep burning significant calories once the feeders were sold and I parked the lawn mower. Exercising for the sake of exercising just doesn't seem to be a good use of my time, but give me actual work that needs to be done, and I feel like I'm accomplishing something of worth. It may sound silly, but I can't wait to get back to doing chores.
The weather has been playing with us this week. We've had really cold temperatures - and we've had two or three days at well above freezing. The last two days have had the wind just howling out of the northwest, picking up snow and blowing it across the highways where it stuck because the pavement was so warm. I was glad that I didn't have to go any further than to town and back.
Saturday, January 13, 2007
Baby, It's Cold Out There!
It has been one nasty week here on the prairies - a time to tuck into a nice, warm house, and just stay there.
We arrived home from sunny Mexico late Saturday afternoon with our daughters picking us up at the airport. We spent the evening with them and my sister and her family (our fellow travellers), eating pizza and sharing our holiday stories. After a while Jesse wanted to know why we hadn't taken our kids with us, and to tell the truth, I had started to wonder the same thing halfway through the week. I guess I had always felt that this was a "grown up" holiday so you left your kids at home. I regret that decision now; it's a great way to introduce kids to travel, different cultures, and how to behave as an ambassador of their own country while they are there.
After temperatures in the mid twenties for a whole week I was surprised that the cold at the Winnipeg airport wasn't more of a shock to the system. I guess we can thank our lucky stars that we didn't land on Thursday of this week - with windchills of more that minus 40 degrees, we might have frozen solid in one breath.
In our corner of the province, we escaped the blizzard that totally shut down the city of Saskatoon mid-week; we only received a few centimetres of snow and the really cold winds, but the news casts from places north and west of here certainly kept us in tune with what was going on. I can remember some pretty significant winter storms in my life - a blizzard in January of 1978 that lasted the better part of a week and left snow drifts so high that we couldn't let the kids play outside afterwards because they would have been able to walk right up to overhead power lines and touch them - but the weather office insists that this storm doesn't have a rival in history until you go all the way back to 1955. It must have been something else, alright, to have zero visibility inside a city is pretty bad.
As a child of the fifities and sixties I grew up hearing stories about how the pioneers coped with blizzards by tying a rope between the house and the barn so that they could find their way home after tending to their animals - and woe to anyone who left that saftey line because it was so easy to get disoriented in the cold and swirling snow. People died then, and Mother Nature is no kinder today - three people died this week in Saskatchewan. It is a very sobering lesson to have to re-learn.
We're left wondering what the rest of the winter holds in store for us. It is still very cold, but they are promising better temperatures by next week. Mid and northern Saskatchewan have had lots of snow, and we've had more that we ever got last winter, but we'll happily take at least double what there is out there at the moment. Farmers are looking forward to the coming crop year - the "what to plant to make big bucks this year" and "the newest equipment that you can't possibly farm without" advertising campaigns have begun. Spring can't be far off now.
We arrived home from sunny Mexico late Saturday afternoon with our daughters picking us up at the airport. We spent the evening with them and my sister and her family (our fellow travellers), eating pizza and sharing our holiday stories. After a while Jesse wanted to know why we hadn't taken our kids with us, and to tell the truth, I had started to wonder the same thing halfway through the week. I guess I had always felt that this was a "grown up" holiday so you left your kids at home. I regret that decision now; it's a great way to introduce kids to travel, different cultures, and how to behave as an ambassador of their own country while they are there.
After temperatures in the mid twenties for a whole week I was surprised that the cold at the Winnipeg airport wasn't more of a shock to the system. I guess we can thank our lucky stars that we didn't land on Thursday of this week - with windchills of more that minus 40 degrees, we might have frozen solid in one breath.
In our corner of the province, we escaped the blizzard that totally shut down the city of Saskatoon mid-week; we only received a few centimetres of snow and the really cold winds, but the news casts from places north and west of here certainly kept us in tune with what was going on. I can remember some pretty significant winter storms in my life - a blizzard in January of 1978 that lasted the better part of a week and left snow drifts so high that we couldn't let the kids play outside afterwards because they would have been able to walk right up to overhead power lines and touch them - but the weather office insists that this storm doesn't have a rival in history until you go all the way back to 1955. It must have been something else, alright, to have zero visibility inside a city is pretty bad.
As a child of the fifities and sixties I grew up hearing stories about how the pioneers coped with blizzards by tying a rope between the house and the barn so that they could find their way home after tending to their animals - and woe to anyone who left that saftey line because it was so easy to get disoriented in the cold and swirling snow. People died then, and Mother Nature is no kinder today - three people died this week in Saskatchewan. It is a very sobering lesson to have to re-learn.
We're left wondering what the rest of the winter holds in store for us. It is still very cold, but they are promising better temperatures by next week. Mid and northern Saskatchewan have had lots of snow, and we've had more that we ever got last winter, but we'll happily take at least double what there is out there at the moment. Farmers are looking forward to the coming crop year - the "what to plant to make big bucks this year" and "the newest equipment that you can't possibly farm without" advertising campaigns have begun. Spring can't be far off now.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)