blog

bales stacked in a field
Jim

The Weather

I’m not sure why the change in weather can still surprise me so much. Yesterday I was wearing shorts and hauling hay bales in from the field. The second cutting growth was really coming along. It’s just a matter of time, I thought, and I will need to service the haybine and start cutting this alfalfa. My guess was that this main hay field south of the house ought to produce 200 or so bales. Boy, that’s sure going to come in handy.

Time for second cut

Of course before I can even think to start to cut, I will need to move these last few bales from the hay field. At the moment, they are exactly in my way. Up in the hay yard is where they need to be. If not,  I’ll be spending my cutting days dodging around them. That’s a very messy proposition.

“Just a few loads to go, right Kirby?”

Kirby the Hound keeps me company on some of these hauls. She’s always up for a ride or two in the hay truck. and I don’t mind admitting that I enjoy the company. Although, from time to time she can forget which seat is hers .

So long ago

Well that was yesterday, it’s funny what a day can do.  Today?  Well, today my 200 bale production estimates seem a tad optimistic. Do you remember all those previous years when all that snow fell on us in the middle of September?? Me either. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen this much snow this early. And the weather man is predicting two or three more days of rain and snow. Lovely.

New Production Prediction

So, I’ve downgraded my second cutting estimates a little bit. Instead of that 200 bales I  optimistically guestimated earlier, it’s now slightly less. My new prediction? Zero.

 

Farming can be awfully fickle.  There’s a reason we so often hear the old proverb “Don’t count your chickens before they’ve hatched”. That’s 200 bales I counted yesterday that I shall never see.

As always, mother nature has the last word…

Read more

two friends embrace
Twyla

I had an amazing childhood best friend!  Our Dads were brothers, we, first cousins.  Eight months apart in age.  I got steamed when adults mentioned that my younger brother and her were the same age.  My egocentric wishes to share birth years, were based in love.  A very caring companion, we shared many experiences.

Kellie is her name.

In my very early childhood we spent much, much time together.  We were neighbours and our parents farmed together.  Creating opportunity for interaction and play.  Sadly, work opportunity took them to a more exotic locale, in Saskatchewan, almost 1000 kilometres away!  Our play experiences became relegated to holidays and special occasions.  As we grew in our separate lives, we stepped into each-others frameworks with joy and openness.  But slowly overtime lost touch.

Fast forward 25 years.

Kellie came for a visit!  A tour of all the familiar places and faces.  When she arrived, I ran out into the yard and embraced her in the most authentic and sincere hug, possible!  I feel so much love for this woman.  She is absolutely beautiful!  Every fibre!  I felt so alive and blessed within that moment.

Our mothers link arms and tear up at the sight of our embrace.

There is such a brightness about her, and glimpses of past generations.  Pretty sure Mom and Dad are still talking about her resemblance to Grandma Elizabeth Jane.  I marvel at how excited yet calmed I became in her presence.  We settled into iced teas and easy conversation.  I realized all too quickly that 2 days in this neck of the woods would not be near enough time!  There is so much I wish to share and savour in her company.  I don’t know her favourite Jello flavour or what she’s binging on Netflix.  But I do know that I love her so!

I’m overwhelmed at how I was building up to this visit and how my home is a reflection of myself, my family and our life.  I was up early, to wash the floor and do a little housework.  As the hours passed, awaiting her arrival, I found myself tidying and prepping with a new sort of nervousness.  The only one first impression ideal, running through my mind.   I consider my house, yard, farm, and life in general to be a work in progress.  Nowhere near a picture of perfection.  Yet in those hours shortly before her arrival I wished for perfection!

I borrowed a flower pot from the neighbour to spruce up the driveway.

Don’t worry, we’re great neighbours, and she can take them back any time she likes. Also, I daresay she has too many flowers!  Thankful for my impulse purchase at the grocers a few days before.  I had grabbed a bundle of greenery to mix with some homegrown sunflowers.  As I walked down the driveway to pick up a piece of litter.  I snatched up a bundle of Goldenrod, growing wild in the pasture.  Another moment of impulse, maybe this is becoming a problem.  Goldenrod, weed or wildflower, you choose. I know the pollinators love them and the cows do not.  Pretty sure Dad considers them a weed.  Would anyone notice them in the mix?  I took them inside, trimmed them up.

I admit, I’ve been known to haul in any flora, on the property that meets my pretty criteria. To this day, I treasure any fresh cut bouquet presented to me. (Wink, wink, Jim!) Always thankful for the sentiment and the beauty.  When they are colourful, and readily available, I say why not?  And my endeavours in no way proliferate nor exhaust the species.  I know when something catches my eye, and today it was goldenrod!

So, they found a new home in the pitcher in our bathroom.  Funny thing, I don’t recall anyone even using the bathroom during our all too short visit.  This makes me smile, because I know they were there, up for the challenge to be themselves with no worry of pretense.  I guess I can not only enjoy the wild flowers, but learn from them too.

Read more

quesadillas on a plate
Brenna

You know how sometimes you have those go-to recipes under your belt? Something that’s likely quick, awfully satisfying, and ignites the warm and fuzzy on the inside? A dish that makes you feel nostalgic and content. It is exactly what you need after a long day, or a rough night? Well for me, that recipe is for quesadillas.

And not just any quesadilla’s, I’m talking about the quesadilla’s that they used to serve at The Three Amigos Cafe.

quesadillas ready to be cooked

 

Now, I know you’re thinking to yourself (or at least Pop is as he reads this over) “Jeez Brenna, what are you doing? This is a farming blog!” Yeah, I know, I know, but bear with me. I like food. I like making food, and eating food (I mean, who doesn’t?), and talking about food, and taking pictures of food, and pretty soon I’ll be blogging about food (more on that another time).

 

One of my favourite things about food is how it brings people together.

Making muffins, and cooking up dinners were always a great way I could contribute to the work on the farm. When I was too small to operate a tractor or chase the cows, I was at least able to toss together a batch of something delicious. I loved seeing my family gathered around the table (or sitting on the grass, or in the back of a pick-up, or in the cab of a tractor) enjoying something I had made them.  A favourite memory I cherish is of my parents enjoying a mid-summer supper, long ago.  The night Jess and I created a restaurant experience for Mom and Pop serving up quesadillas,  piping hot.

cheese, salsa and flour tortillas

Quesadillas are easy to make, like SUPER easy.

You can make them with so many different ingredients, they cook up in a snap, they aren’t toooooo unhealthy, and my goodness they are satisfying. When I was about 8 years old I found a recipe for them in a kid-friendly cookbook, and they became just the handiest snack around.

I quickly got Jess hooked on them, and we made them after school whenever Mom had the ingredients on hand. One summer evening when Mom and Pop were out in the field working away, and Jess and I on kitchen duty, we knew just what to make. In the spirit of Mary Poppins, my favourite thing to do when it comes came to chores is was to turn the upcoming project into a game…and that summer night The Three Amigos Restaurant was born.

As he was always better at drawing than me, and because I was the oldest and thought it better for me to deal with the oven, Jess oversaw the menus…

menu card

handmade menu for quesadilla supper

 

We knew that Mom and Pop had been working hard all day, so we decided to really roll out the red carpet for them, with a variety of different drinks, an appetizer, and two (gasp!) different types of quesadillas up for order.

It seems silly thinking back on this now, but this memory of a small contribution to farming is one of my dearest. I love summer on the farm; how the hard work brings people together, and the evenings spent around the table with everyone after toiling in the hot sun.

For this reason, these quesadillas are my go to. Sometimes I put eggs or veggies (woohoo I’m so healthy), but most of the time I do them Three Amigos Style, just like what Mom and Pop got when they came in for food that summer night. It wasn’t the fanciest meal, but it was made with the utmost love and best intentions.

Here’s the recipe below if you’d like to give it a try, let me know how it turns out!

quesadillas

 

Three Amigos Cafe Quesadillas

Cook Time: 10 minutes

Ingredients (for 4 quesadillas):

  • 1 1/3 cup salsa (your spice preference, I’m a fan of spicy, but you do you)
  • 1 cup grated cheddar cheese
  • 4 flour tortilla shells
  • additional toppings to your hearts’ content. Refried beans are a Three Amigos favourite, but you can also add cooked veggies, chicken, beef, or a scrambled egg.

 

Instructions:

  1. Preheat oven to 425°, and line a cookie sheet with parchment paper (not mandatory, but it makes clean up easier!).
  2. Place tortillas on cookie sheet, and place 1/3 cup of salsa on each tortilla, spreading it so it covers half of it.
  3. Sprinkle 1/4 cup of cheddar, and any additional toppings, on top of the salsa, and fold the tortillas in half.
  4. Place in the oven and bake for 5 minutes on each side.
  5. Allow to sit for a few minutes, then slice into 3 or 4 triangles (a pizza cutter works best).
  6. Enjoy! (They are AMAZING dipped in sour cream or guacamole).
Read more