It was a hellish hot day today. Probably not for those people out trying to get one more weekend in at the cottage or beach, but we farmers could really do without temperatures in the 30s at the moment. It never fails that the air conditioning breaks down on the hottest day of harvest, and with the weather man telling us that rain is just over the horizon there is no quitting until you can get it fixed. When the difference in price for perfect wheat, as opposed to bleached or sprouted wheat, is thousands of dollars, you suck it up, open up the cab for a little air flow, drink water by the gallon, and keep on trucking! And, thank the good lord when the sun goes down.
Not that you necessarily get to quit; sometimes the dew settles right away and you're done for the night, but on nights like tonight when there's a bit of a breeze, and the cool air is much kinder the trucks keep rolling. We're not combining yet - Glen is down at the neighbour's baling his straw, but standing on my deck I can count four combines going in the distance. At least hundred thousand dollars of grain and oilseeds must have been hauled past the yard today. Things are in full swing at the moment and the weather man is promising to spoil it all by Monday. He's not a popular guy, I can tell you!
What I spent my day doing was house and yard work. Our daughter's wedding is only two weeks away now and there is a lot to do. My brother-in-law has been finishing our deck and back door step (it's only been on hold for four years and has almost reached grounds for divorce status a couple of times). We've had to marry off a child to actually provide the push to finish it, but I'm beginning to think it was worth the wait. You gotta love a carpenter who comes with his own creative ideas and suggests different things that take it from a plain deck to a special extension of the house. I can see that it will provide a lovely setting for wedding photos too!
I had planned to get mere done outside but I really can't handle the heat. I did some weeding in my rock garden and then had to do chores as Glen wasn't going to be home until very late. If you think 30 degrees is hot outside, just try stepping into a steel bin and filling 27 pails with chop. It's just plain nasty. And the itchy dust sticks to your sweaty skin and makes the job just that much more enjoyable. I filled all those pails with the oats and barley mix, carried them out to the feeders and dumped them, and then went back and filled them all over again for tomorrow morning's chores. After all, once you're that sweaty and itchy, what difference does it make?
As soon as I was done I went straight to the house and had the coolest shower I could stand, then cracked two beer and sat down with Dale to enjoy the deck and watch the hummingbirds fight over the feeders. Dry barley dust on a day like today is an evil thing, but make beer out of it, and it's not such a bad thing after all!
There isn't a day that isn't full from now until the wedding. As soon as Dale has his tools out of the garage I'll be trying to clean it out, and the porch needs to be emptied of all the stuff that gathers there too. All the bedrooms have to be made ready and by this time next week I'll be in Winnipeg picking up the Aussie branch of our family. If things weren't busy enough before that, having four kids under six years old around the place will certainly put us into fast forward.
There hasn't been a hint of frost yet so the gardens are all looking great. I know I'd get hit for saying this, but the rain that they promise on Monday won't hurt my feelings at all. The flowers could all use a good drink and it would keep the grass green too. Don't tell any farmers I said that!
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Another of my columns
Here is another of my weekly columns - it turned out kinda nice so I thought I would share it on my blog ...
THINGS OF TRUE WORTH
By Jocelyn Hainsworth
These are the days of bounty. Every day our dinner menu is the stuff of garden freshness and plenty. New potatoes. Fresh carrots. Leaf lettuce salad with green onions, chopped radishes and Grandma Q’s creamy dressing. Cucumbers; sweet and juicy, beets with melted butter, and green and yellow beans cooked and served together, not so much because they taste better that way, but because I like the mixture of colors. Every meal is a feast fit for the gods.
And, to complement the richness of the garden, one night last week there were thick and juicy T-bones steaks out on the grill. It just doesn’t get better than that.
When it came time to put it all on the table I went to the cupboard to get a plate, but knew the minute that I pulled one out that it wouldn’t do. What this feast called for was something special, and I knew just the thing.
Above my microwave, and central to the whole kitchen, sits a platter that is one of my most precious possessions. I use it on special occasions - like when the roast turns out just perfect, or when I’m feeling kind of blue ... or when I’m feeling extra happy. I love the way a whole meal of meat, veggies and potatoes all can be arranged in its oval depression. Its solid presence gives me comfort; its lack of pretentiousness suits my style. It is as plain as plain can be. It was my mother’s
I have all kinds of other, and much more fancy, serving ware - things that come out at Christmas time and are polished up for their once or twice a year turn on the table. They’re pretty, and I do enjoy using them, but expensive and valuable are two different things. If the pretty ones broke I could probably replace them, if something happened to mom’s platter an important little connection that I have with her would be gone forever. I’m pretty careful to wash and dry it by hand and keep it up high, out of harm’s way - but I use it often; that’s part of the connection.
You would laugh if you saw this dish. The inked stamp on the back tells me that it is Royal Ironstone, but I can’t imagine anyone on Antiques Roadshow getting excited to see it. It is white, heavy, and has numerous blemishes. But it was a part of my mother’s kitchen, and now it’s a part of mine. An important part of mine.
The strangest part of it all is that, back when it was still hers I remember thinking that we should really get her something nicer. I considered it ugly, in fact; something that had probably been given to her, or that she had picked up at a garage sale, after she had lost all her original things in a house fire. The food she served on it was always top notch, but the platter itself left a lot to be desired.
So, when I discovered it at the bottom of a box of other kitchen things I bought at her auction sale, I was unimpressed. I couldn’t quite bring myself to throw it away, but neither could I see myself using it. And, ironically, because of its shape and size, I didn’t have a cupboard that it fit into easily. Not knowing what else to do with it, I put it on the microwave - which is as close to the “hearth” as any modern kitchen can come. And a very fitting place for my mother to be.
I couldn’t really tell you when it started being important to me. Was it because it was always there, and handy, when I needed it? Was it its solid warmth every time I picked it up, from sitting above the oven? Is it because of the blemishes that remind me that we all have them, and we can be loved anyway? Do I appreciate it most for its lesson in humility?
This coming week would mark mom’s 82nd birthday if she were still here. I think I’ll make a special supper. You know what I’ll be serving it on.
THINGS OF TRUE WORTH
By Jocelyn Hainsworth
These are the days of bounty. Every day our dinner menu is the stuff of garden freshness and plenty. New potatoes. Fresh carrots. Leaf lettuce salad with green onions, chopped radishes and Grandma Q’s creamy dressing. Cucumbers; sweet and juicy, beets with melted butter, and green and yellow beans cooked and served together, not so much because they taste better that way, but because I like the mixture of colors. Every meal is a feast fit for the gods.
And, to complement the richness of the garden, one night last week there were thick and juicy T-bones steaks out on the grill. It just doesn’t get better than that.
When it came time to put it all on the table I went to the cupboard to get a plate, but knew the minute that I pulled one out that it wouldn’t do. What this feast called for was something special, and I knew just the thing.
Above my microwave, and central to the whole kitchen, sits a platter that is one of my most precious possessions. I use it on special occasions - like when the roast turns out just perfect, or when I’m feeling kind of blue ... or when I’m feeling extra happy. I love the way a whole meal of meat, veggies and potatoes all can be arranged in its oval depression. Its solid presence gives me comfort; its lack of pretentiousness suits my style. It is as plain as plain can be. It was my mother’s
I have all kinds of other, and much more fancy, serving ware - things that come out at Christmas time and are polished up for their once or twice a year turn on the table. They’re pretty, and I do enjoy using them, but expensive and valuable are two different things. If the pretty ones broke I could probably replace them, if something happened to mom’s platter an important little connection that I have with her would be gone forever. I’m pretty careful to wash and dry it by hand and keep it up high, out of harm’s way - but I use it often; that’s part of the connection.
You would laugh if you saw this dish. The inked stamp on the back tells me that it is Royal Ironstone, but I can’t imagine anyone on Antiques Roadshow getting excited to see it. It is white, heavy, and has numerous blemishes. But it was a part of my mother’s kitchen, and now it’s a part of mine. An important part of mine.
The strangest part of it all is that, back when it was still hers I remember thinking that we should really get her something nicer. I considered it ugly, in fact; something that had probably been given to her, or that she had picked up at a garage sale, after she had lost all her original things in a house fire. The food she served on it was always top notch, but the platter itself left a lot to be desired.
So, when I discovered it at the bottom of a box of other kitchen things I bought at her auction sale, I was unimpressed. I couldn’t quite bring myself to throw it away, but neither could I see myself using it. And, ironically, because of its shape and size, I didn’t have a cupboard that it fit into easily. Not knowing what else to do with it, I put it on the microwave - which is as close to the “hearth” as any modern kitchen can come. And a very fitting place for my mother to be.
I couldn’t really tell you when it started being important to me. Was it because it was always there, and handy, when I needed it? Was it its solid warmth every time I picked it up, from sitting above the oven? Is it because of the blemishes that remind me that we all have them, and we can be loved anyway? Do I appreciate it most for its lesson in humility?
This coming week would mark mom’s 82nd birthday if she were still here. I think I’ll make a special supper. You know what I’ll be serving it on.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
MID AUGUST
The crickets are chirping at night and the grasshoppers are buzzing in the tall grass - late summer sounds for sure - but with the timely rains we've been having everything is still pretty green; it looks more like July than August. I believe that with the beginning of this next week farmers with the early crops of peas and lentils will be into harvest, and the barley will follow closely after that. Another summer season is winding down.
We only have oats and barley to combine, and it went in so late that it will be a fair few more weeks before it's time to harvest them. As we only grow grains to feed the cattle with, getting it off in perfect condition is not a necessity, the cows don't seem to be bothered by a rain stain or a little sprouting. Actually, the human end user of most grains would be hard pressed to spot any of the tiny deviations from perfection that grain companies dock farmers for. I'd bet no one could tell the difference in taste between #1 and #2 hard red spring wheat once it was ground into flour, but you'd better believe there is a difference in the prices the farmers were paid for it.
Glen finished baling hay last night. That's one job we can call complete for the 2008 season. We will hire the hauling and stacking done and then can move on the next thing. Glen and I were out this morning moving electric fence wire (actually, it looks more like ribbon, but don't touch it if it's plugged in!) . The youngest of the three herds have eaten their way through the little calving pasture and on through one pie shaped slice of oats. The job this morning was to cut them another piece of the pie to hold them over for another week or so. Glen has become a firm believer in small paddock rotational grazing - only give them a little bit at a time. Cows tend to trample more than they eat and the more space you give them, the more they waste.
After we had moved that bunch into new eating grounds we toured up to 21 to move the big herd over to their next pasture. You can see that they are starting to get their pastures eaten down pretty evenly - when they heard the quad's motor they all turned and made for the center gates. They know what our presence means - they get a whole new field to graze! Once they catch on to that idea you never have to go find them, or chase them, ever again. There were the last of the new babies there today. In fact one of the mamas must have been busy birthing hers when we moved the herd last time because she and a beautiful caramel-colored baby heifer were locked away from the other cattle. The mother was sure making sure she wasn't missed this time! She wasn't short on feed, but cows are herd animals and don't like life on their own. And, with a baby to protect, it is much easier to keep an eye out for coyotes if there are lots of pairs of eyes watching all the time.
Lastly we took a drive through the pasture with our other herd in it. They've got a bit of eating left on it, but it will be good to get those bales moved off the hay ground so that we can run them all out there. It's late summer and the lush growth is past. The weatherman says that we're supposed to be getting rain tonight and tomorrow and I'm hoping that this will come true - everything could use a good drink.
So far, throughout this summer of destructive storms, we have been dodging that bullet. Oh, we've had the noisy nights and the spectacular light shows, and one night we even got a few dime-sized hail stones, but compared to some other places, this is next to nothing. By the middle of July Saskatchewan Crop Insurance was saying that almost every rural municipality had put in hail claims - it's been a wild summer no matter where you lived. The most damage we got was some big ragged holes in the leaves of my sunflowers, potatoes, and squash plants.
I guess, if it's going to rain, I'd better get out there and pick the rest of my raspberries. I'm all slathered up with sun screen so there's no time like the present! Love the berries, hate the thorns.
We only have oats and barley to combine, and it went in so late that it will be a fair few more weeks before it's time to harvest them. As we only grow grains to feed the cattle with, getting it off in perfect condition is not a necessity, the cows don't seem to be bothered by a rain stain or a little sprouting. Actually, the human end user of most grains would be hard pressed to spot any of the tiny deviations from perfection that grain companies dock farmers for. I'd bet no one could tell the difference in taste between #1 and #2 hard red spring wheat once it was ground into flour, but you'd better believe there is a difference in the prices the farmers were paid for it.
Glen finished baling hay last night. That's one job we can call complete for the 2008 season. We will hire the hauling and stacking done and then can move on the next thing. Glen and I were out this morning moving electric fence wire (actually, it looks more like ribbon, but don't touch it if it's plugged in!) . The youngest of the three herds have eaten their way through the little calving pasture and on through one pie shaped slice of oats. The job this morning was to cut them another piece of the pie to hold them over for another week or so. Glen has become a firm believer in small paddock rotational grazing - only give them a little bit at a time. Cows tend to trample more than they eat and the more space you give them, the more they waste.
After we had moved that bunch into new eating grounds we toured up to 21 to move the big herd over to their next pasture. You can see that they are starting to get their pastures eaten down pretty evenly - when they heard the quad's motor they all turned and made for the center gates. They know what our presence means - they get a whole new field to graze! Once they catch on to that idea you never have to go find them, or chase them, ever again. There were the last of the new babies there today. In fact one of the mamas must have been busy birthing hers when we moved the herd last time because she and a beautiful caramel-colored baby heifer were locked away from the other cattle. The mother was sure making sure she wasn't missed this time! She wasn't short on feed, but cows are herd animals and don't like life on their own. And, with a baby to protect, it is much easier to keep an eye out for coyotes if there are lots of pairs of eyes watching all the time.
Lastly we took a drive through the pasture with our other herd in it. They've got a bit of eating left on it, but it will be good to get those bales moved off the hay ground so that we can run them all out there. It's late summer and the lush growth is past. The weatherman says that we're supposed to be getting rain tonight and tomorrow and I'm hoping that this will come true - everything could use a good drink.
So far, throughout this summer of destructive storms, we have been dodging that bullet. Oh, we've had the noisy nights and the spectacular light shows, and one night we even got a few dime-sized hail stones, but compared to some other places, this is next to nothing. By the middle of July Saskatchewan Crop Insurance was saying that almost every rural municipality had put in hail claims - it's been a wild summer no matter where you lived. The most damage we got was some big ragged holes in the leaves of my sunflowers, potatoes, and squash plants.
I guess, if it's going to rain, I'd better get out there and pick the rest of my raspberries. I'm all slathered up with sun screen so there's no time like the present! Love the berries, hate the thorns.
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