New Life Old Farmers

One of the best part of having a farm is sharing it with friends. Sharing it with little friends is (as they say in Ellensburg) ‘even better‘.

This 2-year old whirling dervish came decked out in her rubber boots, so we found some puddles to splash in, which may not have been her Mama’s favorite part of the visit. She got out of her car with a tennis ball in her hand, ready to play with with our ball loving hound. Laughing and talking half English, half gibberish…it was a perfect match.

They had come to see all the animals again on this beautiful fall day and get a pumpkin from my meager, but happy to share pumpkin patch and they brightened our day.

Kitty, kitty….no animal was left ‘unturned’…

As is often the case on the farm, we needed a job done this weekend. One of those jobs that take two people, but three would be better. Our little friend’s Dad agrees to give us a hand, even though he things we are ‘branding’, when actually we are ‘banding’.

“Oh”, is really all he can utter, as we work at catching JohnBoy our little bull. We get John Boy down away from Mama Agnes and get his jewels in a tight place as it were. There are obviously no pictures because…well… some of us had our hands full. After counting that both bull balls were in the vise, we let the little boy up and celebrate our cow management skills.

Friends, farms and little pumpkins…

…and we are blessed.

Agnes is the greatest mother cow ever. (Fact, not opinion) Agnes’ due date was October 10, 2020. By the late afternoon of said date, our girl was ‘showing signs’ and giving me looks as if to say, “Seriously! Again?”.

Almost as if, I knew what I was doing, I moved Agnes into our corral. Opening one gate and getting Beau (my horse) through in one direction, getting Agnes to move through in the other direction and keeping the teenager steer Ike from moving in any direction. If I do say so myself it was complete farm poetry in motion, even if I was the only one who was impressed. With Agnes in the corral, we could check on her through the night without the worry of Ike rough housing with the newborn as big brothers are want to do. At 3:30am I was up and checking on my herd, where I found a small black calf being licked by Mama. I went back to bed, informed My Loving Spouse that we had a calf and slept the rest of the night without worry.

The little one was up and noisily nursing upon my recheck by morning light.

After breakfast we set out to give the calf shots, an ear tag and to check if we had a bull or a heifer. We weren’t the only ones interested in the new life. A stray chicken, and the alpacas, but especially Jett are keen to hang around our new little bull, yes indeed another boy.

My horse Beau comes to check him out and try to steal a bit of Agnes’ hay.

Clearly the cutest calf of 2020. What would we Walton’s name such a one as this.

Why, John Boy of course.

Any day there is new life on a small farm is a special day indeed…

and we are blessed.

My Loving Spouse has dabbled in planting corn more than once, but this year he really threw his hoe in the ring/field. He ordered special sweet corn kernels to plant. He tilled the soil, planted two rows two weeks apart and watered it religiously.

I’m pretty sure it was that fact that I was the Queen of weeding and thinning, that gave this harvest its exceptional turn out. Sadly, for all my pumpkin loving fans, my pumpkin harvest was quite low this year. (Only 20 pumpkins…thank you, I do hear your collective ‘gasp’).

Imagine my delight to find these beauties when we were harvesting the corn. I love how my pumpkin vines creep and curl everywhere.

My Loving Corn Grower shared corn on the cob with friends and colleagues. We ate it. The chickens ate it. Charlie our Duck ate it.

When the black birds started to eat it, it was time to harvest the rest.

The Head Corn Grower becomes the head corn chopper. Taking off both ends.

I then took off the coarsest of the husks and begin filling quart sized freezer baggies. 6 ears to a bag and I label whether the corn came from the front row of the field which was planted later than the back row of the field, just incase we notice a difference when we start to eat it.

Our buckets overflow with husks and the corn cob ends.

Much to the delight of Agnes and Ike…nothing goes to waste. Yes, the summer flies are brutal on the cows.

We cease production at 84 ears.

Now the black birds are happy again, and we pull out a number of corn stalks daily and throw them over the fence to the cows.

Speaking of cows… guess who is bagging up?

…and we are blessed.

I’ve tried to not write this post many times, but I have got to get it out of my head. Perhaps again, this post will someday help the children I love know me better when they are older.

My favorite sound is my children’s laughter.

I am a very poor speller.

I am the granddaughter of Jews who had to flee their home and country.

I’d rather work outside than inside.

I am uncomfortable around guns, it is what my oldest brother used to take his life. I am also grateful that My Loving Spouse knows how to use one.

I like cows better than cats.

My mom & dad were Betty and Joe. I have a lot of ‘Betty’ sayings in my head. Joe mostly said, “Keep your eye on the ball”, which is always good advice.

I am a good neighbor.

When this child needed a safe home, we gave him one.

When any of my kids (including this one) needed money, I would offer them a job. I believe the empowerment of earning one’s own cash is important. I guess that makes me a capitalist.

The people I know want a good world for our children, even if we may not always agree on the road to get there.

When I was about 6 my brother told me the car lighter wasn’t hot and to put my finger in it. I learned to not trust what he said. Saying so doesn’t always make it true.

I don’t like being manipulated.

5 months ago, I began to listen to vast quantities of varied news channels, podcasts and daily researching the local news in many cities. I was prepared for bias. I wasn’t prepared for the absence of information. I wasn’t prepared for the media to say something wasn’t ‘hot’ because they said so. I believe if we truly want to be informed, not manipulated it takes listening and watching a lot of voices. Why do they cover some news and not others….and then say it wasn’t real?

I remember when people would say, “I may not agree with what you are saying, but I will fight for your right to say it.” I haven’t heard that in a long time.

Our country is divided. I didn’t vote for this President, but he won. What happened to the peaceful passing of power? I’ve heard people I care about say, it is okay to be rude about the president, because he is rude. Hmmm, Betty used to say, ‘two wrongs don’t make a right.’

I believe all lives matter. I was shocked when Black Lives Matter didn’t condemn the killing of the black teenager in CHOP in Seattle, I can be naive. Betty would say, “actions speak louder than words”.

I don’t like ‘do as I say, not as I do.’

I believe in tithing, whether I can go to my church or not.

My favorite hymn is Great Is Thy Faithfulness

I get to say who I am….whether I chose to stand for my flag or stand on a street corner.

No matter what, my job has not changed. Jesus said, “Love God. Love others, love yourself.”

My hope is built on nothing less…

…and only because of this I am blessed.

I love Pinterest, seriously I really do. I know to not always believe what is written, especially if it says something like “Build a Paver Patio in Just One Day”. What I think they meant was, you can sign the check that pays the Pro to install a very tiny paver patio for you in one day.

What to do about the area between the wood shed, the pathway and the new back door has had us stumped for sometime.

• Another path? Just weird.
• Big concrete pad? Ugly, expensive and doesn’t go with the house.
• Grass? Won’t grow right, more to mow and problem with snow removal.

We finally agree and decide on a used brick patio between the two buildings.

Day 1

We take out the old path and remove the first layer of dirt.

Day 3

We drive to Walla Walla to pick up about 900 used bricks ($400) at what really is a great price.

We take the ‘path less traveled’ on the way home driving thorough beautiful wheat fields being harvested and I nap. How to unload the bricks in one day? Call in for young, strong back up.

Day 4

The bricks are stacked and organized by kind and quality. I go back to removing dirt.

Day 6, 7, 8

The area is 12 1/2 X 19 feet and My Loving Spouse calculates we need to remove 7 1/2 inches over the entire area. The dirt needs to remain as compact as possible, so we do not use the rototiller. I dig out a lot of dirt.

Day 9, 10

Dig straight sides and figure out how to keep everything level. Buy plastic brick borders.

Day 11

Dirt removed I lay weed screen and feel that progress is beginning to be made. We start filling the area with the 2 inch layer of gravel prior to the 2 inch layer of sand.

Day 12

The gravel is sourced from our driveway. Wait! What? Actually, contrary to common belief, we do know what we are doing. The top coat of our driveway is the wrong kind of rock, which is another story, so we are re-purposing it.

My Loving Spouse comes home from Yard Sales with a gravel rake, it is just the tool we needed.

Day 13

We go buy paver sand for the base. We figure we need 15 bags. They say we need 90 at $5.39 a bag. They advise we use less sand and more gravel. We return home with 20 bags and begin removing more driveway and raking more gravel.

More gravel spreading….Bad British Word.

Day 14

Sooooo hot and humid, patio work comes to a halt. I try my hand at making some fun t-shirts for THE Granddaughter who loves her chickens.

Day 15

Yippee and Yee-haw, I begin laying brick.

Except….my small area of bricks use up one complete bag of sand over the gravel (nicely raked if I do say so myself). This cannot be right, this uses too much sand. I consult My Loving Spouse and it is determined that ‘Someone’ (see Day 7) calculated incorrectly and we/I have dug out an inch deeper than needed. (A moment of silence would be appropriate here).

Oh, bloody hell, there is only one thing to do…more gravel, less driveway more raking. Discuss when we will be ordering the correct gravel for the driveway.

Day 16

The brick laying now begins and I am the bricklayer, as I have the body parts for the job. No, not boobs, sheesh, bendable knees!

Day 17 begins by harvesting sand from nearby sandstone cliffs.

My Loving Spouse shovels loose sand into a bucket.

I cross the road with the bucket and dump it through the screen and into the tote and repeat about 20 times. The sand blowing into my face just adds to the fun.

Proper supervision….

Day 18

I start each of these days in lazy fashion, drinking coffee and reading my book. (Some might say this is nothing new). Then we harvest more sand and I am back on my knees. For each ‘line’ I try to use some of the broken bricks as I don’t want to end up at the end of the patio with only broken bricks left to finish the job.

My neighbors and My Loving Spouse keep me encouraged as the patio takes shape. Each evening I am sweaty and sandy. I take a shower, then enjoy a vodka grapefruit juice, because grapefruit is good for you….and some Advil.

Day 19

Day 20

We go harvest more sand. Each sand trip saves us about $100 a trip, plus we’re helping to keep sand off of the road. I always wear gloves.

What’s wrong with this picture?

My Loving Spouse keeps telling me it looks good and he’s proud of me, believe me this (and a dash of stubbornness) keeps me going.

Day 21

I am more than a tad excited that the rest of the job can be done standing up.

This Polymeric sand is key. It is suppose to bind together when damped and keep weeds and insects out of the cracks. Trust me, I do not want to be weeding a patio.

This job just blows….my mind.

It is not completely level or straight, but it has ‘old world charm’…and we love it.

Cute string lights are ordered.

My Loving Spouse has plans for a table and

we are blessed…..

and proud

and a teeny bit tired.

When it comes to Dr. Who, I know close to nothing. If you are wondering what I just said, then you know less than me. (Dr. Who is a long running British Science Fiction show.) All my favorite nerds (which I only say with ‘love’, go ahead and roll your eyes). I don’t really know what the Tardis does. I do know however, that Number Two Son not only knows what it does, but loves Doctor Who and I love Number Two (a lot). So when a friend said to me, “Hey look at this Tardis on my phone, wouldn’t that make a great quilt pattern?”, I not only agreed, but began planning. Surprises are fun.

I used 3 inch blocks in blues for a creative replica of a Police Box/Tardis. These blocks end up with a fairly large quilt, but as Number Two is about 6’3″, that was okay.

I only used fabrics I had on hand, because Covid and shopping do not really go together. There was plenty of inspiration and ideas on Pinterest, which helped to get me started.

I ran out of room on my design wall, however I knew once I’d started sewing I would gain more space.

My Girl walked into my sewing room, while the Tardis was in production. She took one look at it and not only knew what it was, but knew exactly who it was for.

Quilting this on my machine was a tad daunting. I tried setting up a card table to help support the weight of the fabric and that was really helpful for moving the fabric around.

I stitched just off of the ditch on the Tardis itself.

The more I quilted the Tardis, the more fun I had.

Quilting each element of the Tardis in its own way.

Quilting is creative fun. Quilting for someone else is the very best kind of creative fun.

I learned a lot while working on the Tardis, no, not about Dr. Who, but about doing the quilting on my machine and how much fun it can be.

I told Number Two that I had a small surprise for him. His birthday is not until October, so there was no way I was going to wait…besides presents for no reason other than to say, ‘I love you’ are always the best.

…and I am blessed.

We’ve been having a bit of a knees up around here, British slang for ‘party’. After all My Loving Spouse’s corn is up.

My breakfast is ‘Pinterest’ perfect. Greek yogurt, granola and straight off the cane raspberry’s.

…the work we’ve got planned on this hot August day requires I dress for the weather. I know, I know, one must have no shame to post these kind of photos…white legs, white socks, black sneakers….

Not everyone can carry this look off, but I am pretty sure I rock it. We (My Loving Spouse and I) have construction knees to put up today.

All four knees were hand cut by My Loving Spouse and I get to work slathering on the paint.

The spindles for the new porch railing arrived, so construction begins in earnest.

As I am in charge of painting, I am super glad the spindles came primed.

My Loving Spouse screws the knees to the corners and pronounces those fateful words, “we’ll caulk it.”

The porch railing is installed, the knees are up, we’ve stair railings to build, and a few hundred bricks to lay, but believe me, we’re loving the items we check off the list.

…and we are blessed..(even if we do dress funny).

Willow trees…cows in the field (so well trimmed).

Willows…no cows in the field.

Fencing… cows in the field…(Bad British Word).

Fencing…no cows in the field.

Iris planted too close to the cows in the field….

Iris…no cows in the field.

Boots….cows in the field. (Work boots)

Boots…no cows in the field. (Going to town boots)

Freezer…cows in the field. (Well, maybe not all of them)

Freezer…no cows in the field.

May you be blessed by a bit of humor and hope…

…and a good cow picture.

One of our alpacas loves a summer sprinkler.

Benny and Jett are doing great. They’ve only gotten out once, (rookie mistake), and they really do only poop in one spot. They provide a fair amount of amusement daily.

Summer water is always important, especially for our cows. The more the grass grows, the more they have to eat or shall I say, the more we don’t have to feed them. Irrigation water comes to you when you neighbor is done with it. Making the most of our irrigation is important, so I began some research.

Keyline Design is a serious approach to water and compacted soil. Unfortunately, I do not have this cool tractor implement. I do however, have my fabulous old school edger.

I take to our pastures and let me tell you, this baby cuts through cow poop like a warm knife through butter.

Will it work? It can’t hurt. I am hopeful to make the most of all of our irrigation water.

My Loving Spouse misses the water or the ocean or sailing or adventure, adventure that is not fencing. So he took care of that…

The plan was to sail it on the Colombian river. This was a great plan because the river is only about 40 minutes away and I get sea sick, so we’re hopeful that I will be an excellent first mate, not puking my guts out.

Apparently, ‘she will sail’….if we can launch her.

Lola’s trial one… There is not a prayer of getting her in the water.

We come back at it with a loooonger extension and plans to get Lola in the water.

A lot more of Lola got wet, but not enough to sail her. My Loving Spouse is sad, but savy and he has Lola up for sale before you can say “Jack Robinson”. Lola is sold, the alpacas are happy and the irrigation is flowing…stay tuned, the summer is young.

…and we are blessed.