THE GREAT FALL ROUNDUP - 2008
By Jocelyn Hainsworth
And so the time came, once again, to round up all the farmer’s expensive pets and give them the full benefits of our farm’s health care plan. It’s a great deal for them, really; after enjoying free food , water, and lodging all year, and having paid no premiums whatsoever, they get treated for whatever ails them too. The calves all get inoculations - free. The young males have some minor surgery - free. And, the whole works of them are sprinkled with some blue stuff that keeps them lice free all winter - again, completely free of charge.
One would think that they would be happy to participate in this clinic held especially for them, but to tell you the truth, they didn’t seem to be one bit more willing than the human crew who were prodded out of a nice warm house and into the hurricane that was last Saturday. Nobody was happy to be there.
It is comforting to see that every year we seem to improve this operation a little bit. When I think back to the first roundup, I can hardly believe that we’re still married. Back in the day we weren’t exactly set up with enough sorting pens, and not a one of us had learned to read the Farmer’s mind to know what we were going to be instructed to do next. These days we have six or seven pens to funnel animals around in and we’re much better at ... well, we’re much better at staying calm in the face of very loud instructions.
Once the squeeze chute was set up, it was time to bring the herd in from pasture. That’s the improvement that we added this year. It doesn’t take the whole family and four trucks to bring them in. The Farmer merely hopped on his new quad and steered them towards the yard. They learned over the summer that this bright red new toy always seems to lead them to more and better food so the main problem is keeping out of the way of a stampede. They were almost all in when one of them decided that she smelled a rat and took off for the high country. The farmer put an extra mile on his machine trying to head her off at the pass, but in the end she was left to run free. It will serve her right when she’s the only one with lice this winter. Or, she could still find herself in a cull pen for not doing what the Farmer wanted her to - that happens sometimes. Thank goodness he doesn’t have a cull pen for wives.
At first it seemed as if all those wind warnings had been greatly exaggerated, but no, along about noon we found ourselves in gale force winds. Upset animals. Dirt blowing in our eyes. Papers flapping in the wind. Barcode stickers for the radio frequency tags blowing away before we could stick them down. And, every seventh animal insisting on getting into the chute backwards. Which made for upset human beings. One, especially.
Dinner didn’t happen until we were done the calves at 3:00, and somehow, although I can’t imagine how, it was even windier when we went back out to run the adults through. On the one hand, it provided the push necessary to return to the barnyard, but standing still once we got there was a bit of a problem.
By this time we had been offered a reward - the Farmer would take us to town and cook us steaks at the local watering hole when we were done. When someone else is going to cook me supper I don’t ask questions - we got the job done!
If you happened to be in the bar on Saturday night, you might have noticed us - we were the exhausted, wind burnt crew fighting sleep even as the guy at the grill flipped the steaks. Then again, if you were watching the Riders blow Edmonton out of the water, you missed us. We were probably home and in bed before they were out of their game jerseys. You see, we still weren’t done yet - first thing Sunday morning we were back at it, tagging the feeders for their trip to market. Yep! That’s what we’re doing all this for - apparently, these pets turn into money when you ship them. It’s not just for the fun of it all!
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Saturday, October 18, 2008
STORMS OF ONE KIND OR ANOTHER
Another Saturday morning and so much to do! Not like last week end though. Living at the very bottom of Saskatchewan like we do, we were dead center in the winter storm warnings last week. I went to bed on the Friday night mentally listing everything I had to get done before the world turned wet and white - the list was pretty long.
Glen had an oil lease that was supposed to be ready for a rig immediately so he was gone extra early; as it was a long weekend there were a lot of the crew who had other plans and couldn't be there. I was up before the sun came up (which really is nothing to brag about anymore - the days are getting shorter all the time) and managed to get a lot of the in-house chores done before I went out to tackle the garden.
There was still a half row of carrots to dig - not bad you say? Well, the original row was over thirty feet long so you do the math. I tried and failed to get the garden tiller started so I had to haul it manually over to the quonset to put it away. The dogs loved it when I lifted the tarps we had used for covering the tomatoes because it gave them mice to chase for a few minutes. Once I was sure that all the wildlife had left the premesis I folded them up and put them away too.
Next there were dahlia tubers to dig and garden tools to put away. Working with the cold mud, my poor fingers were nearly frozen by this time so I snapped the tops off all the carrots, put them in a big plastic tub and hauled that back up to the house. I couldn't believe it when I looked at my watch and saw it wasn't even 10:00 yet! Sandy had hinted that it sure would be nice if there was a pot of home made soup and fresh-from-the-oven buns ready when she arrived home. I had started the soup before I left the house and I still had time for the buns. It's amazing what you can get done with a storm bearing down on you!
Glen must have called me six times during the day, wanting up dates on the weather forecast. It never wavered - it was still headed our way. But it took longer to get here than they had predicted; there was nothing until about 6:00 on Sunday morning. It really came down for an hour or so, but once the sun was up it switched to rain here. The family plans for Thanksgiving supper was to have the meal at my niece's in Macoun, down near Estevan, and much as it would have been lovely to be there, the thought of having to drive in that mess (it was an all snow event there), especially the trip home, helped us decide to just have our own quiet little supper here at the farm.
It was very quiet - Mitchell had gone to Brandon to spend the weekend with his friends, Wayne and Jacqui were back in Australia, and Jesse lives much closer to Macoun than she does to here so she went to the family supper. It was Sandy, Glen and I, a roast chicken and a pumpkin pie.
To make up for the lack of company on Sunday, though, Monday ended up being quite the opposite. Sandy and I had decided to make a pizza for supper but we needed mozzerella cheese so we called friends who lived in town to come on out for supper - and bring some cheese! Before they even got here neighbors, Scott and Ean, dropped in and it ended up being a lively, happy evening - good times with good people.
Another week has gone by and the election is behind us - thank goodness - I've about overdosed on politics lately. Of course, being from Saskatchewan, no one will be surprised to hear that I'm relieved that the Stephen Harper remains at the helm. I'm not a dyed-in-the-wool Conservative, but I just wasn't comfortable with any of the other partys' platforms. If there ever was a time for a "steady as she goes" approach, it is now. One only needs to watch the stock market to see how panic is turning the whole system into a rollercoaster ride. We need calm. We need steadiness. Mr. Harper's much maligned blue sweater is comforting - I'm kind of glad that the media and the opposition parties made such a big deal out of it. How many people would have missed it otherwise?
In our little corner of the world - with everyone's jobs tied in some part to the oil industry - we wait to see what the price of oil is going to do. Will the demand for it slow? How many oil companies will go under? How many will cut back? How many rigs will be shut down? Who will be laid off? For how long? I'm sure the miners up north feel the same way, and those in the potash industry. Farmers have seen the prices for their grain drop to half of what they were this spring already. We're all about natural resouces out here, and our livelihoods are directly tied to being able to sell what we produce. This is scary stuff for everyone.
Glen had an oil lease that was supposed to be ready for a rig immediately so he was gone extra early; as it was a long weekend there were a lot of the crew who had other plans and couldn't be there. I was up before the sun came up (which really is nothing to brag about anymore - the days are getting shorter all the time) and managed to get a lot of the in-house chores done before I went out to tackle the garden.
There was still a half row of carrots to dig - not bad you say? Well, the original row was over thirty feet long so you do the math. I tried and failed to get the garden tiller started so I had to haul it manually over to the quonset to put it away. The dogs loved it when I lifted the tarps we had used for covering the tomatoes because it gave them mice to chase for a few minutes. Once I was sure that all the wildlife had left the premesis I folded them up and put them away too.
Next there were dahlia tubers to dig and garden tools to put away. Working with the cold mud, my poor fingers were nearly frozen by this time so I snapped the tops off all the carrots, put them in a big plastic tub and hauled that back up to the house. I couldn't believe it when I looked at my watch and saw it wasn't even 10:00 yet! Sandy had hinted that it sure would be nice if there was a pot of home made soup and fresh-from-the-oven buns ready when she arrived home. I had started the soup before I left the house and I still had time for the buns. It's amazing what you can get done with a storm bearing down on you!
Glen must have called me six times during the day, wanting up dates on the weather forecast. It never wavered - it was still headed our way. But it took longer to get here than they had predicted; there was nothing until about 6:00 on Sunday morning. It really came down for an hour or so, but once the sun was up it switched to rain here. The family plans for Thanksgiving supper was to have the meal at my niece's in Macoun, down near Estevan, and much as it would have been lovely to be there, the thought of having to drive in that mess (it was an all snow event there), especially the trip home, helped us decide to just have our own quiet little supper here at the farm.
It was very quiet - Mitchell had gone to Brandon to spend the weekend with his friends, Wayne and Jacqui were back in Australia, and Jesse lives much closer to Macoun than she does to here so she went to the family supper. It was Sandy, Glen and I, a roast chicken and a pumpkin pie.
To make up for the lack of company on Sunday, though, Monday ended up being quite the opposite. Sandy and I had decided to make a pizza for supper but we needed mozzerella cheese so we called friends who lived in town to come on out for supper - and bring some cheese! Before they even got here neighbors, Scott and Ean, dropped in and it ended up being a lively, happy evening - good times with good people.
Another week has gone by and the election is behind us - thank goodness - I've about overdosed on politics lately. Of course, being from Saskatchewan, no one will be surprised to hear that I'm relieved that the Stephen Harper remains at the helm. I'm not a dyed-in-the-wool Conservative, but I just wasn't comfortable with any of the other partys' platforms. If there ever was a time for a "steady as she goes" approach, it is now. One only needs to watch the stock market to see how panic is turning the whole system into a rollercoaster ride. We need calm. We need steadiness. Mr. Harper's much maligned blue sweater is comforting - I'm kind of glad that the media and the opposition parties made such a big deal out of it. How many people would have missed it otherwise?
In our little corner of the world - with everyone's jobs tied in some part to the oil industry - we wait to see what the price of oil is going to do. Will the demand for it slow? How many oil companies will go under? How many will cut back? How many rigs will be shut down? Who will be laid off? For how long? I'm sure the miners up north feel the same way, and those in the potash industry. Farmers have seen the prices for their grain drop to half of what they were this spring already. We're all about natural resouces out here, and our livelihoods are directly tied to being able to sell what we produce. This is scary stuff for everyone.
Thursday, October 02, 2008
TIME IN A BOTTLE
Here is another of my weekly columns that kind of sums up the month of September , 2008 for our family ...
TIME IN A BOTTLE
By Jocelyn Hainsworth
If I could save time in a bottle / The first thing that I’d like to do / Is to save every day / Till eternity passes away / Just to spend them with you.
I’m not normally a fan of Jim Croce’s music, but these words and the hauntingly simple melody that they are sung to are different. Who hasn’t wished for more minutes of the special times in their lives? Who wouldn’t love to go back and re-live certain moments? Who doesn’t wish that they could keep time in a bottle? Jim’s poetry touches us all.
So much has happened at our house in the past month: the preparations for the wedding, greeting friends and guests from far and wide, playing with our grandchildren - there hasn’t been one bad moment. We’ve laughed together, shared meals together, and emptied a few bottles of wine.
There were afternoons on the deck preparing the centerpieces and bouquets for the big day, with happy kids jumping on the trampoline out in front of the house, and two little boys reactivating a couple of old Tonka trucks for gravel hauling after almost two decades of gathering dust in the basement.
The wedding day was all we could have asked for - the bride in her perfect dress and the flower girl finally being allowed to wear her pretty dress and ballerina shoes too. Everyone dressed up and their hair done, with cameras clicking steady to capture the moment. The bride’s and groom’s friends, our friends, close family and distant well-wishers; they all made the day special.
There have been quad rides and cattle drives, potato digs and many little handfuls of petunias picked specially for me. The warmth of a sleeping baby cuddled in my arms, the wriggle and giggles of a little girl trying (not too hard) to escape being tickled. The happy grin of a little boy being allowed to steer the lawn mower on his own. Reading the same favorite book over and over so many times everyone in the house has it memorized now.
A night, even in mid September, that was warm enough for us to build a bonfire so that we could laugh and tell stories around the flames until almost the midnight hour, and another night when Grandpa treated everyone first to ice cream, and then to fire works.
If I could make days last forever / If words could makes wishes come true / I’d save every day like a treasure and then / Again, I would spend them with you.
Of course, short of inventing a time machine, there is no way to actually live a day over again. Instead we have been given the power of memory. All the experiences of our lives are stored in our own personal memory bottles, for us to revisit time and again when a certain scent or song or sound stirs them to life.
It is so fitting that all these recent memories were made during this season of autumn. My favorite of all seasons. A time of fullness, of ripeness, of exquisite completeness.
There will never be a time when I breathe in the heady fragrance of harvest that I won’t think of these days. When the softer sunshine of autumn warms my skin, even years from now, I will think of these days. When the trees take on their fall colors, I will remember these days. When the evening temperatures begin to dip low enough to put frost on the ground, I will remember these days. And yet, even as I recall those memories, I will likely be making new ones too.
Jim’s song speaks of saving time until eternity passes away, not something that we’ll ever be able to do, but a memory bottle that always has room for more seems to be a pretty nice consolation prize.
TIME IN A BOTTLE
By Jocelyn Hainsworth
If I could save time in a bottle / The first thing that I’d like to do / Is to save every day / Till eternity passes away / Just to spend them with you.
I’m not normally a fan of Jim Croce’s music, but these words and the hauntingly simple melody that they are sung to are different. Who hasn’t wished for more minutes of the special times in their lives? Who wouldn’t love to go back and re-live certain moments? Who doesn’t wish that they could keep time in a bottle? Jim’s poetry touches us all.
So much has happened at our house in the past month: the preparations for the wedding, greeting friends and guests from far and wide, playing with our grandchildren - there hasn’t been one bad moment. We’ve laughed together, shared meals together, and emptied a few bottles of wine.
There were afternoons on the deck preparing the centerpieces and bouquets for the big day, with happy kids jumping on the trampoline out in front of the house, and two little boys reactivating a couple of old Tonka trucks for gravel hauling after almost two decades of gathering dust in the basement.
The wedding day was all we could have asked for - the bride in her perfect dress and the flower girl finally being allowed to wear her pretty dress and ballerina shoes too. Everyone dressed up and their hair done, with cameras clicking steady to capture the moment. The bride’s and groom’s friends, our friends, close family and distant well-wishers; they all made the day special.
There have been quad rides and cattle drives, potato digs and many little handfuls of petunias picked specially for me. The warmth of a sleeping baby cuddled in my arms, the wriggle and giggles of a little girl trying (not too hard) to escape being tickled. The happy grin of a little boy being allowed to steer the lawn mower on his own. Reading the same favorite book over and over so many times everyone in the house has it memorized now.
A night, even in mid September, that was warm enough for us to build a bonfire so that we could laugh and tell stories around the flames until almost the midnight hour, and another night when Grandpa treated everyone first to ice cream, and then to fire works.
If I could make days last forever / If words could makes wishes come true / I’d save every day like a treasure and then / Again, I would spend them with you.
Of course, short of inventing a time machine, there is no way to actually live a day over again. Instead we have been given the power of memory. All the experiences of our lives are stored in our own personal memory bottles, for us to revisit time and again when a certain scent or song or sound stirs them to life.
It is so fitting that all these recent memories were made during this season of autumn. My favorite of all seasons. A time of fullness, of ripeness, of exquisite completeness.
There will never be a time when I breathe in the heady fragrance of harvest that I won’t think of these days. When the softer sunshine of autumn warms my skin, even years from now, I will think of these days. When the trees take on their fall colors, I will remember these days. When the evening temperatures begin to dip low enough to put frost on the ground, I will remember these days. And yet, even as I recall those memories, I will likely be making new ones too.
Jim’s song speaks of saving time until eternity passes away, not something that we’ll ever be able to do, but a memory bottle that always has room for more seems to be a pretty nice consolation prize.
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