To Mow a Lawn

The Keeper of the Flame has had the esteemed job of mowing the lawn. Not just your average postage stamp of grass, but rather a couple acres. By push mower.
As parents we were super impressed with our forward thinking that the mower we gave him to push is gas powered. The Keeper of the Flame dilligently pushed for three weeks of the July heat index beyond 100F. The lawn is large enough to make it divisible into five smaller parts so that it was five days of an hour or two of lawn mowing. Small complaints were breathed, but no large blow-ups. And then the day came when the request was made, "I don't need any birthday gifts. Save the money to buy a riding lawnmower." This is the way to any mother's heart, through humility and self denial. Willing to give away all worldly pleasures for a simple riding mower with which he could bless his parents and continue to cut the lawn. So when the neighbor was selling his riding mower, the Wife was willing to pay whatever he was asking for her dear sweet boy. The haggle was short, and the mower drove to its new home. At dinner that night the conversation was light and good humor abounded. Tomorrow the Keeper of the Flame would be cutting the full lawn in one day. Everyone was jovial! Soon the conversation became something new to the Wife's ears..."Hey, Pop! Could we hook up a trailer to the mower to haul water buckets?"
...Such a thoughtful son, she thought, helping do his brother's chores...
"Pop, I could drive the mower to weed the bean field with the neighbors.."
...ahh, everyone should have a son so willing to be a blessing to everyone...
"and we could hook a trailer up to the back for the canoes going down to the canal, maybe we could tweek the engine to go a little faster? How do we lift it for four-wheel drive? do you think I could drive it to the gas station to get ice cream?"
...eh?...who's child was this?
And this was when the Wife realized...she had just bought her son his first vehicle...which just happens to cut the lawn.

(He is still a sweet boy, thoughtful, and diligent.)

Heat, Humidity, and the Search for Water

One thing that you will never hear the Wife complain about is heat or humidity.  Yea, she's one of THOSE people. The rest of the family, however, has no qualms about letting you know exactly HOW hot they are, HOW liquid they feel, or HOW miserable they anticipate the next hours to be.
So, when the weather turned to full blast summer with a hundred and fifty percent humidity, and the family began melting they made their feelings known.  The Wife learned several facts that had apparently escaped previously...like: we do not own a pool and the cattle tank we have is not big enough for more than one big teen-age body, or two small children.  We do not have air conditioning...anywhere. We do not have a trampoline. And dinner is always HOT! { O the horrors of life, the Wife had no idea.}
The Wife made one of those verbal suggestions that she made regret later in life...she said, "Stop complaining and figure out how to survive."  Which the children did a few days later, while cousins were in town...
They went on a walk...to the canal...and jumped in.
(Can you do that?) 
The reviewers were raving, "This is great!"  "Water!"  "We won't die!"
The Wife had forgotten, she is a water-girl, the children were all raised at the beach. So, now, in the middle of a corn field, it should not have surprised her that all her children were in need of a good dunking.  They were parched.
The canal isn't what the Wife would have chosen to jump into.  The Wife prefers clear water...she's a lake snob. But the children don't care. 
Dear Farmer and Honorable Son No.2 were impressed with the ingenuity of the children.  They think it's a great idea!  So much so, that when they come home from the feed mill, coated in soy-meal, they grab their towels and a bar of soap and down to the canal they go! 
The Wife...she's not jumping in.  She did, however, pack up all the children and drive three hours to the lake.  She sat on the beach with her toes wiggling in the water(she could see her toes in the water!) and enjoyed the beauty of the water.  The cooling and beautiful water...while the children all jumped in and splashed!

Raspberries for Breakfast

We have the most giant patch of red luscious raspberries right outside our back door. 
When the Wife was a littlest girl she had a raspberry patch that she used to eat breakfast in. A cup of milk from the kitchen and out the door to the raspberries for a morning graze.
 
This morning, while the Wife was cooking oatmeal over the cooktop outside, the Chicken Dinner Farmer's Daughter followed her out.  But she didn't stay with the Wife.  She continued past the Wife and began a morning graze...in the raspberry patch.  She was happy and completely content eating berries. 
The Wife did finish up the oatmeal, and took it inside for everyone for breakfast.  Chicken Dinner happily brought in a few berries to add to her oatmeal, as well as a few to share with siblings.

How can you not just LOVE raspberries from your own backyard for breakfast?

Jell-O: part of the Tapestry of Family

There is an art in the family that appears on the buffet line at every family gathering...the Jell-O.
In our family, the Jell-O rarely comes plain...there's always an additive.  The additive makes it stretch further, and gives it some sort of health(maybe). The Amazing Farm-Wife tells me she will only use a couple boxes of the gelatin concoction...so the additive is that much more important.
Here's the Jell-O's we know best:
Lime with cabbage shredded in
Lime with cottage cheese mixed in
Orange with cottage cheese mixed in
Orange and Lime both got carrots and sliced celery
Pineapple mixed in with just about any flavor

Our family has a special list of favorites, because there's people that we have had over for dinner that do not understand/like the wonderful taste of cabbage shredded into their Jell-O:
Raspberry with Raspberry Pie Filling
Peach with Peach Pie Filling
Blue with Blueberry Pie Filling
Strawberry with (did you guess it?) Fresh strawberries!

Old-timers remember Jell-O plain gelatin with veggies and hard boiled eggs in a wonderful visual display, but it takes a little getting used to for younger people...

Regardless how the Jell-O comes, it's always served with love, laughter, and a whole bunch of great people!

Easy to be Distracted

It is the season that Dear Farmer and Family can be all too distracted.
There's chickens to be housed and cared for, buildings to build, the garden to plan and plant, goats hooves need to be trimmed, calf needs brushed, house needs little tweeks here and there, people to visit with, unending chores, fences to build, tractors to fix and clean, barns to clean, yard to cut....the list goes on and on....
With such a list, it's hard to "Stay On Task!"  {Perhaps that will be our theme this year...hmmmm....}
Priority given to things that must be done IMMEDIATELY!, like housing the little chicks.  And our missing 200...they came in yesterday...all 300 of them.  Someone at the chickery is having a good laugh, we think. The littlest chicks cannot fend for themselves, depending on us for their every need...
What else on the farm ranks in that same class? The smallest children.  Okay, both go on the highest priority.
Next on the list probably comes the rest of the animals, and medium size children.
And so on, and so forth...
But the list becomes hazy when the sun is shining and the birds are singing...and all Dear Farmer really wants to do is walk among the cows.  Sit in the shade and admire the beauty of creation.  Watch the children play Frisbee on a warm summer night.  These are both the reasons to keep plugging on through the work of today...and reasons to stay on task tomorrow.
Distractions can be the making of the memory...or the downfall of organization...
And so...we attempt to "Stay On Task!"
However, if you come to visit us, we'll happily be distracted!!!

The Careful Planning of a Tiny House...or...The Size of My Shoe

Dear Farmer promised to build the Wife a tiny house in lieu of tent camping this year out at the garden.  The Wife has always loved tiny houses, we first started in one(see article: The Movement We Never Abandoned 2/23/2016 ) and the thought of being able to go back into one is a dream come to reality.
But exactly how to build a tiny house for a family of...ahem...thirteen?
Start by checking out the regulations for building a tiny house on wheels.  For a family of thirteen to live in the tiny house for an entire summer and fall...that size is SO not happening. He would need to build three tiny houses...but as we do not have three trailers, three vehicles to pull trailers, or three drivers. We quickly eliminate the wheels and trailer.
Now we are looking at building tiny house on skids.  This way house can be moved from location to location on site which makes the house an option for more uses.  If no one is residing in it, the house can become a storage shed, a studio, or even a chicken coop.
The tiny house will have two doors, two windows(actual double hung windows) and sleeping spots enough for thirteen.

But what happens to all the stuff you need?
Let's talk needs:
Food
Water
Clothing
Shelter

Those are all our basic human needs. Past that it's all luxuries.

The Wife has every intention of giving each child the luxury of electricity, internet, plumbing, fans, heat, and a small space for individual trinkets/toys.
Clothing will be kept in a mobile trailer that we will need to power-wash to get the stink of animals out of(the goats had lived there for a time) and Dear Farmer has plans to make it into a "family closet".
So far as washing those clothes go...a Laundromat isn't so bad, and if the Wife gets desperate to have her arms get a good workout, there's the clothing plunger and wringer secured on a tub.  Old Fashioned has a time and a place.
Now Dear Farmer is in the process of drawing up the plan for the tiny house for the Wife.  He estimates the size to be 10 x 20.
I guess for the summer the Wife will be the "...little old lady who lived in a shoe, she had so many children she didn't know what to do...".  Perhaps, like the Gilbreth Family (Cheaper by the Dozen by Frank and Ernistine Gilbreth) we will have to name the tiny house "THE SHOE".

This story is full of Bull

Dear Farmer had to take a bull to a friend for the summer.
The bull was not thrilled to take the ride, but the dog convinced him it would be better.
Dog yipping at his heels, he got in the trailer.
A long drive in nice weather.
The door was opened, the bull walked out, and everyone was happy ever after.

Around here, we spread bull around...but in the realistic sense.
So, here's the story:
The bull, Tuxedo, was purchased a few years ago from a dear friend, Ray-of-Sunshine.  Ever since Ray-of-Sunshine has said, "wow, I'd really love to have him back."
This year, Dear Farmer could make that happen.  So, Tux is spending the summer at Ray-of-Sunshine's farm.  Dear Farmer was so excited to be able to bless him.  The loading process was a little long.  Tux didn't really understand why he had to be going in the trailer...I'm sure he's realized that not all that go in the trailer come out.  So, Dear Farmer had to call the farm dog out to do her job, which she did great.  No one had to play dangerous games with a 1700lb bull...he ended up walking in(unhappy) into the trailer.  Six hours later, Tux was unloaded and Ray-of-Sunshine blessed us with beautiful handmade plaques out of barn-boards! They say, "Hope" "Love" and "Believe".  Then he made my favorite one: "Trust in God" ---that one's going on my tiny house!
So glad Tuxedo can reside there for a little while and everyone is safe!

So you want to be a farmer? The Reality of Being Organic and Sustainable

"Opportunity is missed by most people because it comes dressed in overalls and looks like work."
-Thomas Edison

If you thought that recycling made you sustainable and organic meant that you didn't use deodorant, then we're a shocker for you.  We take that to a whole new level!!!(Yes, we do use odor protection.)
Sustainable means we put up enough hay in the summer to feed the herd in the winter, and we're planning on growing the grass again next year. So we mow it when it goes to seed-head.  It's not a nice lawn look all year.  Sometimes during the summer it may look quite shaggy-depending on rainfall.
It means when there's an apple tree in the field, we pick it and sauce it so we have food in the winter. We don't complain the apples are the size of your thumb. Sometimes sustainability can take on the same look as common-sense...a chicken gets used four different ways. First as a vet for the cows as it cleans the pasture, next as an egg layer, third as a stew bird for dinner, and lastly as chicken broth preserved for later. We use the sun and air we breathe to dry our clothes, for light during the day and that "fresh air" smell on our sheets.
Everything that's sustainable is hard work, there's no skating by.  Burning wood for heat means cutting the wood, splitting the wood, and stacking the wood-sometimes in the coldest day of the winter.
But it's so worth it!
Organic means we don't use anything God didn't create for fertilizer, animals, and food.  We use our own animals to fertilize the pastures, then give them a dose of watered down compost for good measure.  We don't breed animals to have the biggest body-parts for show or production, we take them as God made them and use them right. That's why our goats have horns, cats have claws, and chickens have bone and skin!  We let the animals eat the grass, the apples, the leaves, the herbs-and we don't peel back an ear of corn for them.  This is the way God meant it to be.
Before you think this is all daisies and roses, can I be quite frank?  Because of this life we live...there are things you may want to consider...wear mud boots(real ones, not fashionable ones) to get to the door. There's chicken poop everywhere.  Why? They have wings, they fly any where they want to.  That means to the house, not just in the barnyard.
There's a goat who will greet you at the car door, and will gladly display for you how she can urinate on your foot and poop all the way to the front door of the house.
The cats like to leave "gifts" everywhere.  Dead mice, voles, ground squirrels, chipmunks...
Be prepared for dirt.  The windows are open in the house and it coats the furniture...really, I dusted it off six times today from the dark wood piano!  The dirt covers feet, shoes, clothes, and gets under nails.  It sticks to the cobwebs created overnight, and onto the faucets where children were washing it off.  It doesn't matter how we attempt to get rid of it, it comes back. A magazine cover will never show the reality of farm life dirt.
The mess. There's a plethora of misc. tools, equipment, toys, and vehicles that don't run. The reality is, we're busy staying alive, there'll be a time to make it all clean(when the dumpster is here), but right now isn't that time.  So, if you're OCD(which I find I am) take a deep breathe and close your eyes as you walk past it. The mess won't change the taste of dinner, and it also won't make the photo shoot for the magazine cover(thankfully).  So just move on. Lastly, prepare yourself for a new brand of sweat.  I promise, we do use odor protection, but it doesn't help the amount of sweat we produce.  It doesn't matter what time of year it is, there's hard physical work we're doing.  Whether it's under the hot sun or bundled in the dead of winter-people around here are sweating!  No need for aerobics class, we pitchfork hay around for hours. Snow-shoeing and cross country skiing are means for checking the fence lines.  Walking miles is a form of transportation, not relaxation. And when you see people standing around this kitchen with dripping hair or frozen hair and wet shirts and socks, covered head to toe in dirt and poop-laughing about the day they just had...know that they've accomplished the "Organic" label that went on that product in the store. AND LIFE IS GOOD!

Death and Life with perspective from Little Farmboys

Death is a part of life, as the preacher pointed out, everyone and everything will die.  It's not a new concept on the farm.  Death is a hiccup in a day.  This past month our family had a Grandfather die.  And while death is totally accepted, a loved one's death is more than the hiccup, it's a full day of sadness.  We had many conversations leading up to the funeral with the Farmboy Trio (in particular).  For whatever reason, little farmboys are a bit more socially ungraceful...conversations included topics such as:
"grave-farting" : I don't care if little Johnny said your grandfather will haunt you, don't do it!
"booger-slurping-during-prayer": Hold a tissue and blow at an appropriate time.
"funeral-apparel-commenting": I don't care how big you think anyone looks, black is slimming, don't say a word!
You laugh, you snicker, but if you were the Wife taking the Farmboy Trio off the "compound" you'd be having the same conversations!
Funeral day came and went without any large debacles, we found the missing shoes, ties were clipped and knotted, syrup wiped from faces.  The Farmboy Trio made a quiet entrance and exit-and the Wife breathed a sigh of relief.  The general feeling throughout the boys was one of understanding, "The Lord gives and the Lord takes away, blessed be the name of the Lord." (Job 1:21b)
The acceptance came in smaller doses:
"Grandfather is not going to be coming to the beach next summer, he's in Heaven."-Keeper of the Flame
"Grandfather is not in pain anymore, God's prepared a yacht for him to live on."-Dear Farmer's Shadow
But the best comment was from the Pied Piper of the Farmboy Trio the morning after the funeral...he sat down to a bowl of beloved sticky-oatmeal after waking up tired from busy days, slightly on the wrong side of the bed, and said, "Well, Grandfather's dead. He's in Heaven with God.  And he's eating a better breakfast than I am!"
While we miss the departed-Grandfather, we are still here and living.  Sticky-oatmeal is a part of life on earth, there are better breakfasts in Heaven to come!

Hail to the Rock Pickers of Life!

There's jobs in life that no one wants to do...the bed-pan washer and rock-pickers would be top of that list.
Honorable Son #1 has come up with philosophical ways to pick rocks(see farmingthedream.com Aug.2015).
The Farmer's Daughter has used rock picking for quiet moments of suntanning and body-building.
All-in-all, the job is still just picking rocks. At the end of the day, it's back-breaking, dirt-sticking, sweaty work. And next spring...there'll be more rocks to pick.
Hail to the Rock Pickers of Life!  The ones that do thankless jobs.  The ones that do it everyday because it never really gets better.  Those are the people that exemplify diligence!  Here's your standing ovation!!! There really are people who appreciate your work.

Off to the Races!

Farm children do play.  They play really really hard!  Favorite past-times of the Hausfrau Farmer's Daughter and the Whiz-Bang! Farmer's Daughter is bicycling.  The joy of cycling away from the farm and down the road, the wind blowing in their hair, and the sun on their backs is great relaxation from the daily chores.  The Hausfrau was given a new bike this year.  She had been without for a couple years, so the new bike was quite a delight!  Within the first week the bike wheezed and whimpered to her that it hadn't been ridden in quite some time.  The second week the bike gave out...off to the Bike Doctor it went!  Thankfully we have an amazing Uncle in our family -the Bike Doctor!  If you're ever in his neighborhood in Dixon, IL you can check out Green River Cyclery , he is absolutely the best(especially if you're a serious cyclist).
While the bike was at the doctor's the Wife questioned the Hausfrau(who was moaning that there was no bike to ride), "Couldn't you run the distance?"  The Hausfrau replied, "Run four miles?????!"  Apparently, that was not in her option list.  During all this, the Whiz-Bang! Farmer's Daughter had been riding an aged bike(previously owned by the Wife)...the Hausfrau confiscated the bike-claiming imminent domain. But that bike was not ready for the four mile ride either, and it ka-pooped.  Now both Farmer's Daughters are without bikes.  Not Daughters to be held down-they turned their disappointment around and into a game for all the siblings to enjoy.  Everyone strapped on roller blades and skates and began racing up and down the driveway.  The Hausfrau procured a silver cup from her treasure trove(also known as "messy room") and it became the "WINNER'S CUP".  The garden hose is the official finish line, the lawn chairs are set up along the drive for the spectators.  Any chance the children can-they are watching or racing!  The Hausfrau and Whiz-Bang! Farmer's Daughters are missing their cycling route to area farms and friends, but they have made another special memory with their siblings right at home-driveway races!

So, you have "feral" chickens?

Yes.
How does a domesticated bird become "feral"?
Good question.  Let's revisit the definition of "feral". The word feral has two meanings. In this case we are using it as an adjective as in "a pack of feral dogs roamed the woods".  Feral means that a domesticated animal has reverted back to it's wild/natural state.  So then, it shouldn't surprise us that any animal that has been domesticated can become "feral".
You are talking about your chickens, right???
Yes.
I just have to ask, how did it happen?
That's fine, I was hoping someone would ask.  So, we had this skunk that ate two birds.  The birds started roosting in the rafters after that.  Then we had an opposum that ate at least three birds.  Then the birds decided that it was safer outside the coop than inside...and they roosted on the deck rail next to the patio door on the farmhouse.  It was at that point that the chickens simply wouldnt go to the barn. Nothing could entice them...food, drink, implements on which to poop.  Absolutely no reason was good enough for them to go back there.  The Wife watched as they began foraging in the woods for food.  Roosting in trees during the day if they needed safety.  They no longer eat the layer feed.  We have no idea if they are laying eggs...those darned birds live in the woods in the day (feral) and roost on the deck rail at night.
Wow.  So, you have "feral" chickens.  Never heard of it before.
Neither had we.

The Ducks Cross the Road...again!

There is a road that divides the farm, it makes life...interesting....
When mid-July hit, and the rains stopped, the ducks went in search of a quieter and more moist home.  It involved stopping traffic one last time and vanishing to wetter pastures.  The ducks left, and for the past four weeks we were sure they were never coming back.  But we got a phone call from a neighbor down the road a few days ago,"Are your ducks missing?"  We answered that they were gone from here. "Well", he said,"I think they've been here in my pond for the past month.  They'll be coming back home soon, the pond is nearly dried up."  And sure enough, that night, we saw traffic stopped on the road in the middle of the evening rush.  It was the ducks.  They were crossing the road and coming home.  They've grown quite a bit in four weeks.  They look a little leaner, a little taller.  (They haven't been here eating the feed!) Maybe they look a little more mature since they left home...maybe I'm reading too much into this...regardless, the ducks are back.
Since they are now back among us, we've made their lives interesting again...the Pied Piper of the Farm-boy Trio has hugged them and carried them around.  He's given them rides on the goat, and offered them wild plums and sauced apple peels.  They've played tag with the dog, and moved back into the barnyard.
I wonder how long they'll stay now that it's started to rain again.  Maybe the neighbor's pond will once again call them to cross the road, or perhaps they'll stay the winter? Stay tuned.

Dear Farmer builds the fence

Seems pretty mundane that Dear Farmer would build a fence, however the fence he built this weekend served only one purpose...to make his wife happy.  Wow!  What a guy!
The containment fence he had built when we moved to the farm runs the length of the property.  It is wood posts(non-treated), about six inch round, and has four oak boards that hang on it.  It took a full spring, summer and fall to dig each post in and hang the boards running the twenty acres to the south of the drive.  There was a 200 ft. section in front of the house that posts were dug, but never had boards hung...why do it right away?  Reasons not to were legitimate: it was winter and too cold...there weren't any animals grazing in the yard...it's really just about looks...and about a thousand other things had to be done before spring.  That reasoning had been used for five years.  This year the Wife kindly asked Dear Farmer if there wasn't some way he could eeek out time on a "slow" day to finish the fence in front of the house.  Her reasons were legitimate: it would look nice to have boards on the naked posts in front of the house...it would contain the children nicely...it's not cold outside...it's really about looks...and she'd like to have it done.
Dear Farmer heard his Wife, and obliged. He was so excited(not really) to pull out the tools and spend a day finding them from other people who were borrowing them from all over the county.  Then he asked(drafted) the children to help him.  They were excited(over-the-moon-thrilled!!!) to be working with Dear Farmer on the fence in front of the house!  It took a total of five hours...children held boards, Dear Farmer screwed them in, children handed screws, got water, served Dear Farmer iced tea, and at the end of the day...the fence was beautifully finished and the Wife gave Dear Farmer a kiss.  Wow!  What a guy!

Laundry Lines

Through the years Dear Farmer has blessed the Wife with different laundry lines.  The first was a line under three walnut trees, in a neighborhood where country hospitality was not, and birds thought that the line was their target-practice.  The second was an umbrella line.  That worked well for about five years.  The line had a hole in the backyard for nice weather, and Dear Farmer filled a bucket of cement for inside use with a woodstove running.  The next was a line strung between two oak trees using an old hammock frame.  Balance was delicate so a support pole in the middle was needed, and eventually the lines disintegrated.  The current line, uses the old hammock frame, but was made more like your fence line, so that as the lines loosen, it can be tightened(Dear Farmer hates drooping lines).  It all goes well until Dear Farmer sees it needs to be tightened...and there's a load of laundry hanging on it.  So, he went to tighten the lines, and instead the weight of the laundry pulls the lines down, the entire thing landed on the ground.  The Wife tries not to think of the amount of chicken poop on the ground where her clean laundry landed....
Two Farmer's Daughters, the Wife and a frustrated Dear Farmer got the line back up(and drooping) in about fifteen minutes.  The quest for the perfect laundry line continues....

Three Cheers for "Splash Canyon"!!!

Dear Farmer and Wife took the family on a mini-vacation this weekend to Fabulous Aunt and Uncle's house. It was wonderful!  Fabulous Aunt took the Wife and children (and oodles of Cousins that joined us on vacation) to "Splash Canyon" Park in Oregon, Illinois.  It was AMAZING!
First of all, Oregon, Illinois is a little town of nearly 4,000.  It's riddled with history and beautiful houses, but then they have built a fantastic park system!  So it just keeps getting better!
Good luck finding "Splash Canyon", you have to know someone and know the area, the town has tucked it back there so that not just anyone is going to find it, meaning it's basically a local's haunt.  But we had a five hour bliss with eleven children ages 13 and under and three adults. Fountains that spring up from the ground, spray tunnels, a lazy river, and "Russian roulette" with dumping buckets of water...but that's not all!  The designers must have had a mother on the team because there were benches set up strategically in the shade AND a free library AND a park all in the same area!
Unfortunately, in Illinois "Splash Canyon" is something we can only enjoy about three months of the year.  It is worth enjoying!  Three cheers for "Splash Canyon"!!!  Three Cheers for Fabulous Aunt and Uncle!!! Three Cheers for vacation days!!!

A moment for a "spot of tea" on the tractor

Dear Farmer has been brewing tea.  WHY? Glad you asked!  Let me tell you...
He brews a "compost" tea to spray on the hay fields.  By spraying compost on the hay fields he is able to give the fields a healthy and fast dose of all that's good to bring the micro-organisms in the dirt to optimal health.  It's like if you or I were feeling "yucky" and we were to start taking a multi-vit...in a few weeks we'd start feeling better.  But if we were to eat right AND take the multi-vit in a few days we'd feel better.  The "compost" tea is like if we were eating right and taking a multi-vit...but for the field. Just like compost for your garden can get kinda stinky, the tea can a little too.  However, it gets really stinky because Dear Farmer adds to it liquefied fish.  Uber stinky and highly healthy-making the tea go from "good-for-field" to "WOW-for-field".  So, today Dear Farmer is driving the tractor spraying a "spot of tea" on the fields.  Making the grass grow healthy, so our cows are healthy, meaning our meat is healthier for you!

Sunday afternoon and Cows

Dear Farmer and the Wife spent four hours yesterday watering cows.  The cows have water-tanks filled by hoses off the hydrants, but the hoses failed and the tanks were dry.  A herd of mad, thirsty cattle is not the place you want to be on a Sunday afternoon, but there we were-getting cows water as fast as we could and in as many different ways as we could.  Farmers don't get weekends off.
While overseeing the pushing and shoving by the cattle, the Wife was able to get a little more experience being around the herd, and watched Dear Farmer and how he cares for these (ungrateful) cattle. The Wife did ask if she could be up on the tractor, instead of on the ground with the cattle...Dear Farmer said no.  Apparently Dear Farmer actually was USING the tractor, and the Wife would have just been up there because it looked like the safer place to be.  It really wasn't the safer place to be, it was just higher up.  The Wife watched the way the cattle bumped and jostled the tractor, Dear Farmer did not have an easy job!
 It was a long and dusty four hours, Dear Farmer and the Wife both had sweat and water mixed with dust and mud covering arms and necks, all over faces and in noses.  Ick!
"Did you catch the game?"  Nope.  No game could have been nearly as exciting as watering a hundred thirsty and mad cows.  Nope, we LIVE the game!  We're farmers.
 

They want to be "House-Goats"

So Honorable Son No.1 has a milk goat, and the Wife has the two kids.  Well, the Wife enjoys the goats grazing the yard in the evenings(goats eat the weeds)and the goats also play with the children after dinner(socialization).  So, she would let them out of the goat-pen and into the yard just before dinner and have the children put them back into the barnyard just before baths.  The children had gotten a little lazy, and casually forgotten to put the goats into the barnyard a couple of evenings...which turned into a week.  The goats, being goats, found unique places to bed down for the night.  The Kubota RTV, on top the pallets by the feed bins, and finally the deck on the house.  On the deck they could look into the house through the windows in the dining room and the patio door in the living room.  They saw all the fun the people were having and the food on the table...they made a decision...they wanted to be "house-goats".  The goats, now when they were out in the yard, began haunting the back door...that is how people got in and out.  They felt they should be allowed in and out of the house as well.  The Wife didn't think that "house-goats" were a good idea...though all the children voted to let them in, Dear Farmer used his veto-power and sided with the Wife(smart Farmer).  The goats are now being penned in the evenings and bed down back in the barnyard.  However, when let out, they still believe that they should be allowed in the house.

When the GPS doesn't take you to your destination...

Had a couple of out-of-town friends coming to visit today.  They had never been to the farm before-we've always met up with them at other locations(church, birthday parties, conferences).  This time they were in the area and coming to our farmhome!  We were excited, even cleaned the house for the occasion!  Dear Farmer was on the phone with them and willing to give directions, "No", they said, "Just give us your address and we'll use the GPS."  In the country, the GPS doesn't always work.  Many times I believe the programmers just think "it's a gravel road/small town why put those in?" Well, people do still live wa-a-ay out in the middle of no-where...so it might have come in handy.  Anyhow, the company didn't arrive.  And didn't arrive.  And just when Dear Farmer and the Wife were contemplating how lost they probably were...there was a phone call.  The company wasn't just lost, they had landed in the next state!  ( I had to put that in bold for the effect of the story...really, our farm is on the stateline, they weren't too far away.) They had plugged in our address, but incorrectly-driving past our house...and far down the road...before realizing they were totally in the wrong place.  The GPS was telling them to keep going, but they knew they should turn around.
Now some of you may say, it was the fault of the person who was programming the coordinates, not the GPS...and some of you may say it was the fault of the GPS because it didn't recognize the coordinates that were programmed in didn't exist.  Either way, the company did arrive.  But too late to visit more than a couple moments before their next appointment. (BUMMER)
Dear Farmer did look like a very un-happy little farmer-boy...but he will get to visit with them another time. {Sigh} The house needed to be cleaned anyways.