LUMBERJACK AND JILL

 

Mike said that Sunday (Feb. 22) would be a warm day (in the 50s) and therefore the best day to work in the wood. So that’s what we did. Again, we went in the big old Dodge Ram pick-up – Mike, Bess, and me. It was 50 when we arrived at the farm about 10:00 – 48 in the house. The afternoon high was 56. I dressed warmly and didn’t need a coat. Naturally, what little snow was on the ground was quickly melting.

According to Mike’s plan, he delimbed the big pine branch in the grove, discovering that it was bigger than he thought. He hauled the greenery to one of our many slash piles with the 4-wheeler. (He said ten trips; I said five.) Then we proceeded to cut and load the wood. We took a break for lunch at noon and then went back to it. It took longer than Mike thought, but that phase is complete except for the final clean-up of the grove.

Work for another day

It was 1:30 or so when we went to the bottom of the lane where Mike cut the previously stacked limb wood into lengths for firewood. I climbed (or is that clambered?) into the pick-up bed and I stacked the firewood as he tossed it to me.

Stack of wood at pond

Mike had hoped to work some on the tree in the north field, but we didn’t have time. He briefly mentioned the stack of wood on the other side of the pond, but we didn’t dare try to drive there due to the soft ground.

It was nearly 4:00 as we started back to town. The trip proved easy enough – not much traffic, and we were grateful to have leftovers to warm for supper. We were in bed earlier than usual.

On Monday, Mike unloaded, stacked, and covered the firewood ahead of the predicted rain.

We continue to see a mild winter. Regional ski hills have given up hope of opening. It rained yesterday (Monday), and this morning we had a rain/snow mix. However, the forecast shows highs in the 50s (some days almost 60) over the next ten days. Meanwhile, we watch as the East Coast is devastated by extreme winter weather. And while we might appreciate this mild winter, we will pay for it one way or another. It’s just that no one talks about it unless it’s real devastation. KW 

SILLY OL’ BESS

Bess as we walked at the pond last week

You never really know for sure what a dog is thinking, and as they get older, an element of dementia seems to come in. Mike notes that the older dog also becomes more independent. Perhaps she’s thinking to herself, “You never really know what your humans are thinking, and as they get older, they are so unpredictable! I’d better think for myself.”

For the first twelve years of her life, Bess’ evening routine was to curl up on her pillow after supper and nap until bedtime. Some months ago, her routine abruptly changed, and she began to go out after supper and put herself to bed in her kennel. Mike would go out later and close the gate.

That is, unless it’s raining. Rain seems to confuse her. It rains so seldom that it’s not a big deal, but it was raining the other night when she was ready to go out. At first she hesitated when I opened the door, but then she decided to go out anyway. We figured she’d be right back, so we watched for her, but when she didn’t show up right away, we began to worry. Mike went out to check the kennel and call her several times within 20 minutes or so, finally blowing a whistle. (It doesn’t help that she’s deaf.)

Just as we were wondering what to do next, our neighbor rapped on the door. He said that Bess had shown up at their back door, wet and whining, so they took her in and dried her off. He heard Mike calling her, and as he brought her home, she slipped into her house and he closed the kennel door.

So, Bess has a new evening routine imposed by her humans for her own good. She can either stay in the house and nap on her pillow or she can go directly to her kennel. KW 

A HUNDRED FEET OF PINE

 

Mike, Murray, and I went to the farm again on Thursday (Feb. 12). The guys lifted heavy limbs into the bed of our old pick-up. I helped some with the slash, but I couldn’t do the heavy lifting. I felt a little useless.

Mike says 100 feet of this tree lies on the ground. That doesn't count the snag that still stands. It's 100 years old, so we'll say it came to be about 1920, perhaps as the family was setting into their new house.

At some point it had rained, and the mud was even worse than heretofore. I wear “duck boots,” and I carried them back to town to be cleaned under force of water. If the ground is going to freeze, I think the temps will have to drop and stay below freezing for a while. It was 45 Thursday afternoon. 

So now, much of the work has been transferred to town. Mike unloaded the wood to be cut into lengths for firewood. Naturally, it’s green, so it won’t be ready to burn for a while.

And that’s about all I have to say. Sometimes when the work is demanding, all you can say is that you worked hard. In the end, it might be rewarding, but it’s not fun while you’re going through it.

I suppose I should add that the contractor had been there and started the repair to the ceiling in the master bathroom. And we found only one mouse in trap. KW

 

THE “PATTERN BLANKET”

I’ve made progress on the afghan, or “pattern blanket,” that grandson Silas requested. He and his mom called to face time with me the other day, and I showed the afghan to him. I explained that I have to keep putting on rows until it’s long enough to cover him. It should be long enough to cover his toes, he said, and I assured him that it would be.

I told him that I want it to be long enough so that he can still use it when he’s older and taller. He would like to use it when he’s a man, Silas said. His mom advised him that he won’t be a man for quite some time and by then he might want a new afghan.

“I’d like a travel blanket,” said Silas, and I began to wonder if he’s  ordering yet another afghan. His mom and I assured him that this blanket will work at home and in the car, too.

“I need a new bed,” said Silas, and I agreed that he should probably have a bigger bed before long and left it at that. 

And then he asked to see the blanket again, so I spread it out on the back of a chair and let my phone show it to him.

What with the Olympics and the Super Bowl, our household is focused on sports at this time. Mike is into all this competition, but for me, it's a chance to finish the pattern blanket. On Super Bowl Sunday, I made dips and set out chips and veggies. The spinach dip was supposed to be baked, but Mike ate about a fourth of it before it saw the oven. I also filled a graham cracker crust with a no-bake cream cheese filling and made a sauce of frozen sweet cherries.

After the Super Bowl, an explosion of fireworks occurred in our neighborhood. “What’s with the fireworks,” I wondered aloud, and Mike explained that this was in celebration of the Seahawks’ win. KW

STILL WORKING ON THAT TREE

 

“We should have taken ‘before and after’ pictures,” said son Murray as we left the farm on Tuesday (Feb. 3). Taking pictures of our work to delimb the big tree in the north field is problematic. It’s so big that it’s difficult to show our progress (or lack thereof), and it’s also difficult to manage the camera when I need to keep up with the work.

Mike and I worked at the farm on Saturday (Jan. 31), and son Murray helped us on Tuesday. Progress seemed slow until Mike started removing limbs from the lower part of the tree, which actually lies uphill. It’s hard work when you’re senior citizens, and Murray also fits that description, but Mike wants to do it.

Farmer Kyle came in on Tuesday, and he and Mike discussed the best way to cut the tree so that it can be hauled out of the field and into the yard near the barn. Kyle said he would do it as soon as the ground freezes, and I wondered if he was kidding. We’re having such a mild winter. It was in the 50s as we worked – in the 50s at altitude in central Idaho in early February!!! Murray took off layers of clothing – jacket, sweat jacket, sweatshirt – until he was down to his shirtsleeves.

People have speculated that we would have winter in January and February. Well, January is gone with neither snow nor rain, and I find it hard to believe that these springlike days will turn to winter. I saw crocus in bloom today and daffodils making an appearance. Yesterday it was 60 degrees in the Valley. However, I see that around Valentine’s Day, the forecast is for highs at altitude to be in the 30s with lows in the 20s, so maybe it will happen. If it does, what will it do to the fruit trees? We’re running low on elderberry jelly. KW

STILL ANOTHER WORKDAY

At the farm on Tuesday (Jan. 27), Mike and I delimbed the downed 100-year-old pine tree lying in the north field. We made a burn pile and another pile of limbs to cut for firewood.

It was not as cold as previous work days. The afternoon high was 45. The sun was out, which helps a lot. The frost was gone from the trees, leaving a world that was warmer but bleaker. The ground was somewhere between frozen and mud.

Without running water, it’s difficult to manage food prep and other activities of daily living. The dishwasher is full of dirty dishes. I plan to use disposables for the duration.

Mike lit a fire in the fireplace, which gradually warmed the house. I really love being at the farm. It’s just that it’s cold, the house is disorganized, and I’m not a manual laborer. My mind wanders while I work.

And where does my mind wander to? Well, I have happy places. I still think of making that sock doll. The other day I bought a package of three men’s work socks in off-white at Goodwill for $5.97, the best option I have found to date. Even so, these socks don’t work for the instructions I want to use. At least for the price I can afford to experiment. Whatever I do, it probably won't be as cute as the dolls in the drawing. Just the way it is.

Of course, my priority project is Silas’ “pattern blanket.” I try to work on it several hours a day. I would love to finish it soon so that he can have it before he forgets he asked me to make it.

Otherwise, I have had my frustrations in adjusting to Windows 11. I’ll spare you the details. KW

AND YET ANOTHER FARM WORKDAY

Tuesday, Jan. 20 – Mike insisted on another trip to the farm, so son Murray went with us. This was our third trip to the farm within a week. It was another dreary sunless day that didn’t budge from 27 degrees. Really, it’s too cold to work outside, but Mike will do it.

I mostly stayed in the house. Mike lit a fire in the fireplace, and the house became tolerably warm. After correcting a winterization oversight, Mike and Murray spent several hours working on the downed trees. We started back to town at 3:00.

We found two mice in traps again, so I reset the traps and set several more, one in my upstairs sewing room where last year the mice stole batting from a kit I left on the bed. Honestly, I don’t know their egress to these rooms, but nothing is sacred – NOTHING! Incidentally, daughter Hallie tells me that she has been trapping rats in the backyard of her Seattle home – five in two weeks. I have read that Boise is also fighting a rat infestation.

As I waited in the house, I looked through our cabinet of music inherited from my dad, whose career was devoted to teaching piano. I continue to store a variety of books, magazines, and sheet music, and I came up with a book of trombone “swing” exercises published in 1935, which I gave to Murray. So much is available online these days that we hardly need the books.

The trees, laden with frost, still stood in winter beauty, but I didn’t venture out to take pictures due to the cold. KW