Over rocks and hills

Last week I wrote about finding contentment in harvest. Each day was a new challenge in finding contentment. It’s not like buying a gallon of milk; you buy it and you have it. Well, turns out it’s a little more challenging when you have to worry about rocks.

There’s this one field that has beautiful rolling hills… and rocks. Well, why don’t we pick them? Actually, I’ve been out there picking more rocks and building character one rock at a time than I care to remember. I’ve smashed the occasional finger when my brain is slow on the draw to tell my hands to release the rock. Somehow these rocks are like raccoons. Always there where you don’t want them and when you relocate them, more are there when you turn around (or return to the field).

I do a lot of ‘raise the head, hit the resume button’ over and over when I’m on the lower downside half of these hills. Of course, I might have gotten caught up in admiring how pretty some of those rocks are… and then about give myself a heart attack when I look right (to area of the header hidden by my monitor) to see I’m this close to scooping a large rock. 

Blue skies and rain spits coming my way

Yeah, those moments aren’t fun. Right at number two to that moment is the time you think you hear a rock rattling in your head and grinding so lightning fast reflexes kick in and flick the switches off while turning down the engine speed. This happened as I was opening up a new field.

Here’s what to do when it’s been a long week, it’s Friday and almost five o’clock.

1)      Completely forget that a few palm-sized rocks like to hide in the baby draw that runs in your first three swaths.

2)      Forge ahead confident in your mad combining skills.

3)      Realize that you’re racing through that baby draw and belatedly be aware of how the head is flexing (or not).

4)      Hear that heart-breaking sound of grinding metal and a rock-like ricochet on metal.

5)      Quick like turn everything off, raise the head and back away cautiously.

6)      Shrug and park the combine to continue moving everything else over.

7)      Resume combining.

8)      Realize that the auger in the header is NOT turning like it should.

9)      The dread sinks in.

10)   Poke around, open the side hatch and see the chain, broken.

11)   Congratulations!  You’ve won an early stop to the day! You broke the chain in not one, not two place but FOUR. And several little links roll away…

Yeah, I can do a really good job sometimes. Now I really appreciate those practically zen-like moments combining fields that don’t have rocks. And when contentment came so much easier.

I do a 'good' job, poor little guy

 May your week be the anti-thesis of rocky, clear skies on your radar and the wind not blow you away.

A photo of French Silk pie because I can & it was delicious

Finding contentment in harvest

Hubs up flying back home

The sun winks sleepily in golden orange rays before bursting over the horizon to start the morning. Frost highlights every blade of grass in silver, muting the vibrant emerald green as a light, cold wind tickles the trees. Soybeans, tall and unbending, take on a pale silver hue waiting for the sun’s rays to chase the frost away.

I love frosty mornings. It’s cold enough to make you appreciate the warmth of the truck cab but not that biting, nipping cold usually found in the dead of winter. And it makes the hot coffee all the more precious. I have found myself half way to the truck before realizing I’d left my coffee back in the house on the counter. You know I ran back to the house to snatch up that mug of morning happiness.

Learning the hard way is not always fun but when it’s a heavy frost morning and I parked the combine facing north or west; I learned quickly it pays to always park it facing east. A gunky, wet windshield makes bean dust stick quite well. Even after I’ve wiped it down. Uff da.

Up hill at this point

This week defined in one word: content. It’s nice to be back and combining the gently rolling hills, seeing the beans fill up tank after tank in my combine.  And I always enjoy working with my dad.

Finding contentment in harvest is tricky, especially this season. A late frost, almost the middle of October, and six inches of rain a couple weeks prior combine with the nice weather to delay the start of harvest. I was asked ‘aren’t you worried about getting harvest done with this late start and the occasional rain popping up?’

Well, I figure I could get myself all worked up with worry and anxiety. I’ll be honest, I don’t know if I ever not worry and get anxious but I do try my best to not let it get the better of me. Harvest is a season and a time to give thanks that all your hard work is coming to fruition. And it will end. I much prefer the me that enjoys the harvest, the day working to get as many acres off possible without leaving beans behind to the me that is wound tight with worry and anxiety and dreads the work day. And I sleep better when the worry is limited to a small box (not an extra-large) that I carry with me, metaphorically.

I hope you can be content this harvest and enjoy what your land has produced. It may be less or more than you expected depending on the weather. But the harvest is always more than if you hadn’t planted in spring, right?

There are more photos over on my Instagram and Facebook, should you be curious. :)

May your week be content, the frost light and the bushels heavy.

Needs more beauty sleep apparently. Photo credit to hubs

Thanks giving

Helping soil test

Today is THE day. I’m finally heading south snowbird-style. Sadly, I’m not a true snowbird; I’m not retired or show the passing of many decades in my face. Or, not sadly, I like working, I feel productive. I was supposed to be south over a week earlier but hey, just shy of six inches of rain in one week will muck up any plans for harvest. By the time you read this I’ll have the wind in my hair, the sun on my face and the miles racking up behind me. Unless you’re one of those perky, chipper sorts that wake before the birds then I might be throwing the duffel into the truck and then on the road. With coffee, okay, two travel mugs of coffee. Thanks to a bestie and an early Christmas gift (she’s got all her Christmas shopping done, BEFORE October) I have a 24oz mug. Yeah! Talk about the extra coffee. :)

Sun bathing, er, napping

 And while I’m driving through Canuckland all the stores will be closed in deference to Thanksgiving. I’ll be honest; it takes some getting used to having Thanksgiving in October and two in one year. This year, I’m actually around to celebrate Canuck Thanksgiving with hubs, his family and siblings (and my super cute little niece). It’s nice to actually be around and celebrate with them.

With this dry year we’ve had, we’re combining corn already. So Canuck Thanksgiving and American Thanksgiving both have corn harvest in common this year. It feels a little bit like home. Oddly enough we haven’t gotten a hard freeze yet either but the corn P7527 is coming off at 25% moisture. Not bad, considering no frost. The P7211 came off at 21.5%. Whoa.

This looks the same as the last round

My experience with corn moisture is along the lines of ‘whoa, pull that combine back and go drink coffee or fix something.’ Here in hub’s world, 21.5% moisture is within their optimal range for combining. Of course, it takes a detour through the dryer then to an aeration bin, while still hot, to take another half to one percent moisture out. From there, it’s transferred to a bin for storage.

Hubs asked if I wanted to combine some corn this past week. The big green machine sat ready with its ridiculous-looking chopping head on. (When I’m used to seeing a 20 inch – 12 row – 20 feet corn head, a 30 inch – 8 row – 20 feet head looks funky in comparison.) Now normally I jump at every opportunity to combine (it’s fun!) but I’ll be honest. The green machine doesn’t have the quietest cab ever. And it’s louder when harvesting corn than, say, beans. 

One of my failings is that I’m prone to headaches. A rumbling combine, the odd combo of whistling and rattling golden corn stalks as they disappear into the whirling chopping knives, the weighted thunks of ears of corn bouncing into the head and the crunching thunder of the ears passing through the rotor, the lost silence of corn shelling – separated and cleaned – and finally, the dull, glass-edged shatter of clean grain raining down in the holding tank. All of that pure sound filtering through the cab is enough to give me a migraine. My lovely red combine muffles that enough where it’s bearable and I can also listen to the radio. Win.

May your week be full of gratitude, the crops dry and your coffee nearby.

PS Thank you to my hubs for the photos this week. :)

Visitors with a side of tiling

 The cursor blinks lazily as I sip my lukewarm coffee that I spiced up with a half pump of cinnamon dolce syrup. And the truth is, I’m not quite sure where to begin. Perhaps I’ll just ramble on. It’s a gorgeous, cloudy morning as the wind rumbles around the house and scatters the gold, burnt orange and flaming red leaves. I am reveling in the serene silence around me interspersed with the dog snoring and the humming washer. My visitors are trekking back home and hubs is out tiling.

If the weekend had gone according to plan, I would have been driving south to start harvest in SoDak. With farming, and life, it’s a rare time indeed to have a plan go through without a few adjustments, detours and maybe even a complete overhaul. Ah well.

Hubs had talked about installing tile in a section of field near the house. I wasn’t too wild about the idea because it’s just one more thing to do in harvest or right after. Well, he really wanted to try and get rid of a salty, low spot in the field and generally improve drainage. (There are a number of depressions in this field that love to retain water.) I couldn’t really argue against tiling on the sole reason that it’s more work. Ha. That excuse would work for everything!

Tiling trainee

The tile was delivered Thursday and I’d had plans to ride with hubs and learn more about installing tile. They were set to begin on Friday. Well, Friday afternoon my doorbell rings just as I was half done with bookwork. (Bookwork then tile lessons with hubs.) Who do I find on my doorstep? None other than my grandparents; I was surprised. My grandparents are in their mid-eighties and rarely travel more than an hour or two from home. Turns out they’d done a tour of North Dakota to see the oil wells and whatnot on their way up. Quite the road trip.

I had serious, quality time one-on-one with my grandparents this weekend. Since hubs was out tiling and cruising the field going a speedy one mile (and change) an hour. He did prove to be the topic of many a conversation as we watched from the house.

Hubs adores my grandma and the Michigan bars she makes. In deference to the spontaneous nature of their road trip she brought the ingredients for these bars. We spent a pleasant Saturday afternoon baking together. Somehow we managed to not trip over each other in my small kitchen. Well, she baked and I made chicken soup from scratch.

My awesome Grams :)

Later, Gramps wanted to know if I had made the noodles too. (I have to be gluten-free and GF baking requires an extra cup of patience more than normal baking.) I responded with, ‘I make noodles like this: I rip open a box and dump the contents into the boiling water.’ I don’t think I’d ever have the time, or patience, to make homemade noodles, even if it was winter and no field work.

Hubs escaped to his man cave on wheels. It’s too bad really, he missed out on the voice projecting so the stone deaf can hear me speak, the repeated questions I had just slowly answered and the constant bustling around for something to do. But there was Sunday and all the stories of how to farm in the good ol’ days for him to catch up on.

The best part? As they were leaving, I said ‘bye and see you soon!’ I head south this week and I’ll get to see all the family on church on Sunday.

May you enjoy the colors of fall, the wind be at your back and your coffee perfect.

P.S. Hubs took a few photos of tiling and a video of the tiling. Head over to my Facebook page or Instagram to see more.