farming

cowlick on a cow
Jim

During the last 15 months or so I’ve begun to feel that I’m being observed.

It’s as if I’ve become a player in someone’s private showing.  The play is nothing special – it’s a terrible script, there’s no plot, and the actor is sub-par.  In fact, if I had to describe it, the word would be tedious.  Not only is it dull, but it repeats.  Daily.  There are subtle variations of course but the overall message and general narrative remain nearly the same.  And yet somehow the audience seems mesmerized.  She must be, for she has been seen standing for hours every day, just waiting for the curtain to rise.  Even again today.

Meet Sophia, the pail-bunter turned audience-stalker.

There is an old, rough lumbered, grey wooden corral just a few steps from the front door of the house.  Within you will find plenty of fresh water, acres of green grass, and a cozy warm shelter.  From time to time there can also be found special rolled oat treats in a red plastic feed pail, treats never last longer than a second or two.   In fact that pail will usually just be touching the grass when a soft black muzzle plunges deep to retrieve all those scrumptious bites. Sophia cannot seem to get enough. And in case you’re a bit late with those tasty morsels in the morning, she’ll remind you.  She’s as good as any rooster we’ve ever had, and will unabashedly inform you that your clock is running a little behind.


Sophia has never lived anywhere else.  Often times on the farm things come at you a bit sideways and you just have to deal, there really is no choice.  That’s how Sophia came to be in her home.  Her momma, although she is a great cow, just didn’t have the milk Sophia needed.  This new born calf had to be fed from a bottle to ensure that she would get everything any young heifer needs to grow.  Soon she went from milk bottle to pail, to water trough, to grass, and even oats.   She stayed with us, in her corral, and grew.

The sun is up as I close the door of the house, enter stage left, and walk towards the barn.

Soft big brown audience eyes are palpable with my every step.  I look at her as I pass, moving only my eyes.  I can’t move my head.   If I turn my head she’ll notice, get excited and start bucking up and down on her side of the fence trying to get my attention. It’s her way of saying “Come on!  Come over here!  Let’s play”. Oh, by the way, did I mention she likes to wrestle?  It was kind of fun and funny to wrestle with her when she was a small calf.  But now, 600 (or more!) pounds later, the wrestling is completely-one sided.  But even so, her invitation is always irresistible.

“Ok Sophia, just a minute or two.”   If oats are her favourite, well then getting attention and spending quality time with her family is a close second.  What a character.

Exit stage right.  Curtain.

 

Read more

bales in the field
Jim

I love baling hay.

I love the smell of it when it’s freshly cut.  I love the smell of it when it’s being wrapped into bales.  I love the smell of it as I haul it down the road to the hay-yard.  I even love the smell of it when it is first stacked, awaiting its winter use.  Haying is fun for me, there’s no doubt about that.  However,  there is one thing about haying that can be a little less enjoyable.  The heat!

Of course to make hay you need that heat.  Those warm breezy mid-summer afternoons help to dry it for several days so it can be baled without spoiling.  Everyone has heard the phrase “Make hay while the sun shines.”  Actually I think it’s probably less of a saying and more of a rule.  Yeah, let’s call it a rule.  The first rule of making hay, lots of sunshine!

Now with all that sunshine, comes some pretty warm temperatures around home.  I’ve spent many days baling hay in an open station tractor with the sun glaring down, or in a cabbed tractor with no a/c and no working fan.  It can get awfully warm, dusty and sticky, baling hay.

As those hot days start coming one after the other, after the other my mind always wanders to the very same thing; water.

A lake, a river, a stream, a dugout, even a pool.  Always filled to the brim with nice, cool, refreshing, dust removing, life-giving water!   Once the thought of water enters my brain there is no getting rid of it.  I become fixated.  Normally that’s as far as it goes until I end the day.  I simply pass the hours day dreaming about swimming in some perfectly clear lake.  In reality at days end I wind up in a shower to rinse off all the dust.  But this year was going to be different!

I decided to put in a pool!

Nothing too fancy.  A small pool for sitting and visiting.  You know, sort of like a big hot-tub but without the ‘hot’.  I’ve been dreaming about it forever, but this year I was biting the bullet and installing my very own fresh water pool.  Something I can jump right into when the haying is done for the day.  I was so looking forward to it.

As it turned out, the actual installation of the pool was rather quick.  But filling it up?  That takes a bit of time.  I can’t tell you how long I waited, as I watched it fill with the garden hose I think I may have dozed off for a bit.  The good news is – it did fill and when it was finally up to overflowing I couldn’t wait.  I ran to the house to put on my trunks and in I jumped!

And holy smokes it was cold!!  I should point out that Seamus, my fellow ‘haymaker’, was first in the pool.  I was a distant second.   But we were equally frozen by the end of it!

If I could offer some advice to anyone making a similar pool, first, put a black tarp on it for a few days to the let sun warm the water a bit.  Second, install a swim-up bar.   As you can see, I put one in and it was one of the better pool ideas that day.  Finally, third, make sure the cows aren’t already using it.  They may not appreciate you in there if it’s in use.

homemade pool

What a great way to get that hay dust off and my water fixation out of the system.

I think a pool was one of my better haying ideas this year.  In fact it may become an annual thing!

Read more

Welcome sign
Jim

Coming from a farming background Twyla and I decided from the start that we wanted to raise our family in a rural setting.  This was not because we thought farming would make us wealthy, we knew better than that!  This was a choice of lifestyle, not riches.  And now, all these years later, even though we did not become prosperous land barons, as suspected, we can say with certainty that we actually did find treasure on our farm.  Richness, it seems, comes in all shapes and sizes.

The primary goal of our farm was to raise cattle.

Over the years while we were concentrating on doing just that, we found we were soon growing so much more.  We grew grains, gardens, pets, children, recipes, friends, stories, and memories.  It has all been quite the journey.  There can be a lot of chaos at our home but if you take the time to navigate through the confusion there’s usually a laugh or two to be had and a pretty good story to tell to friends at the end.  We hope you enjoy hearing about our farming adventures as much as we do telling them.

When folks think of the rural lifestyle they often picture these smooth rolling green pastures dotted with beautiful aspens and pines, late summer flowers in blossom sprinkled about, with all sorts of farm animals standing here and there enjoying the scenic majesty of sunny mornings.  Not far away will lie abundant fields of grain beginning to ripen looking forward to the fall’s harvest.  And there, in the middle of it all, you will find a perfectly manicured lawn and in the middle of that, stands a beautiful white storey and a half weathered but wonderful farmhouse.  Just a few steps from the house grows a lush weed free garden, bountiful fruit trees; apples, cherries, plums all lining the garden’s edge.  And still a few steps further is this mighty red with white trim giant prairie barn complete with hayloft and horse stalls.  Finally this whole package is framed with perfect white painted fences and a young girl skipping along the path to the barn, milk bucket swinging in hand and humming her favourite Walt Disney theme song.   Sounds nice doesn’t it?

This does exist and you may see it…sometimes.

But usually life isn’t all nicely wrapped up for us like this.   There are times when those rolling pastures could use a little more rain and that grain could use a few less weeds and a lot less grasshoppers.  We all love aging barns but still, it’ll need some paint and a nail now and again.   Let’s not forget that garden.   Constant attention to that and the orchard is needed if we plan to have plenty of good food for the winter.  Have I mentioned fences?  Fences are in constant need of mending.  Without good fences your livestock will soon put themselves on a first name basis with the neighbouring tribe.  Not good.  Farming is rewarding, for sure, there’s not a doubt in my mind about that, but it takes a lot of work and of that I’m just as certain.

We have strived to create that picturesque farm we have all imagined and we will share with you the stories that grow with us as we try to reach that goal.  So keep an eye out for all of the ‘sugar coated’ farming experiences we plan to send your way.  They are fun.  But keep in mind life isn’t always like that, so we also plan to share with you those little things that don’t always go to script.  In our world, we tend to experience the latter far more.

I guess we can say we’re doing ok.

Most times we can drive the road of life pretty well, but of course sometimes we do end up swerving or sliding a bit and then there are those times we end up completely off that road and right through one of those nice white rail fences we’ve chatted about.  But almost always you can find something in the whole experience to laugh about…or at least to share.  Ok, I guess that brings me to the end of my very first post.  In closing, let me say this – Welcome to our little slice of rural imperfection and the tears and the laughter that have come with it.

Read more