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| 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.
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| 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.)
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| 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.
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| Canola. Photo credit to Dave |
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| Combining that canola. Photo courtesy of Dave |
