A little hard work

A 'helpful' farm pup

The morning woke sleepily, blanketed in heavy fog while dawn stretched lazily above the grounded clouds. Ninety days or so we’ll have a nice storm of some variety (snow or rain), right before Thanksgiving, the American one. Where trees once stood is a plot of bare earth waiting for a new beginning and perhaps some fun, creative landscaping.

Last week the tree guy was here lying to rest diseased poplars and filling in an old, dry well and a dugout. The dugout had a faint sense of whimsy to it shaded by trees like a pond but was overburdened by the unpleasant assault on the nose of green algae overgrowth. It had to go. We’re prepping the pasture for the future arrival of my horses. Once the pasture and barn are ready, then my horses get to travel internationally. Looking over the existing fence that used to keep two sheep and a mini donkey in, which I’m still unsure of how exactly, I could see that it would need some work considering most of the poles were pretty shaky. I’m talking wooden poles with page wire. My horses would lean on that and in no time be out strolling in the corn, being naughty or racing around the yard with the wind in their manes.

Hubs said we’ll just rip it out. Like it was going to easy and fun, he thought. I said sure, you can rip it out and I’ll put the new one in. Pulling out the wooden poles (meh) versus pounding t-posts in and snapping insulators on? Yup, I’ll take the t-posts. Of course, I’ll have to go buy them and do the whole load/unload song and dance. No one tells you that unloading is harder because they turn into spaghetti, hooking and twining around each other. I get a call from hubs… he wants help pulling out the poles.

My handiwork, one at a time, it was a tough job.

Who would have thought that getting in and out of the little backhoe to chain up each individual pole would be annoying and tiring? He’d made it a quarter of the way around the pasture, not bad. Ever the gentleman he said I could operate the backhoe. So thrilling… raise the bucket, out pops the pole, lower the bucket and drive to the next. I did what any self-respecting farm wife would do… I earn my callused hands, plus I wanted to get my steps in. And a little quality time with the sun for some vitamin D never hurts. (I walked eight miles that day, total, not just the pasture, it’s not that big.) So I walked the pasture, chaining and unchaining each pole and then went back and loaded the gator for hubs. Of course, the trusty farm pup was right there supervising. This is when he wasn’t off ‘helping’ pick up sticks and spreading them back out around the pasture. And somehow he found mud or the mud found him.

A little hard work goes a long way.

The wheat harvest finished Friday evening right before the ‘big rain.’ This big rain on Saturday evening turned out to be a nice light show to the south as tendrils of rain teased us to the west as a gorgeous sunset shone through. However, on those rare days of harvest transition between crops we had a date night. I love farming but it is nice to get off the farm once in a while for a nice meal out and coffee (that I didn’t have to cook or wash the dishes.)

Canola swaths

The tribute to August is on as its final days roll by before we segue into September with sultry heat and a wind that taunts you with hints of a fall chill to come. The trucks are rolling, combines rumbling and radios squawking Charlie Brown-style as canola harvest hits its stride.

Canola. Photo credit to Dave

 May your final days of August be warm, the iced coffee cool and your steed (vehicle, truck, combine, etc.) trusty.

Combining that canola. Photo courtesy of Dave