IT’S A HORSE!!!

The days here at the farm have been lovely. I especially enjoy the mornings. Outside in the quietude, I commune with the raised bed gardens and the wheat fields, and in the distance, I hear cattle lowing. And while it’s so quiet here now, I imagine the hustle and bustle of this place when it was a family farm. The ghosts rise up to do my bidding. Grandpa Jack is at the barn readying his machinery for harvest. Grandma Ina has bread baking in the oven and is cooking her first batch of Himalayan jelly with Aunt Shirley’s assistance. Of course, I can build the story any way I like. The ghosts evaporate all too soon anyway.

I was sitting at my “desk” Thursday afternoon where I look out at the barn, the pond, and the southwestern end of June’s field. There’s a draw in that field, as in most of our fields, and I happened to spy something dark and blockish-looking just visible over the rise. Then the block moved. I knew it wasn’t a deer. Probably that cow, I said to Mike.

Ripening grain

Several hours later, as I put supper on the table, I glanced out the window to see a horse at the corner of the barn. He was unconcerned, just munching the grass. And where was Bess? Dozing on the front porch, having had her exercise and her supper. When Mike went out, she noticed our guest and set up a ruckus, despite Mike’s efforts to quiet her. The horse was not put off at first and made a friendly overture, moving farther into the yard. We guessed that he was lonely and glad to see some folks, but realizing that Bess did not share his desire to make friends, he quickly moved on and out of sight.

He seemed to be a nice horse with a friendly spirit, not like the skittish ones we’ve had in the past. The man in the canyon said the horse isn’t his, and we believe him. We may, or may not, see that horse again. KW

THE RECYCLING DEBACLE

The new flooring was laid on the sun porch Thursday morning (July 25), and we're pleased with it. Mike and I then moved the cupboard back into the corner and finished replacing the stuff we keep there. While I was at it, I sorted out the variety of product jars I’ve been hoard . . . – er, keeping, and I took a crateful to recycling. “You’re really throwing all these away,” queried Mike, a tone of incredulity in his voice. Jars have various uses, but after all, a few is all we need. (This doesn’t count my official jelly jars or my collection of old jars and bottles.) It felt wonderful to have room for other homely items in that cabinet.

I guess you’ve heard that recycling has turned into an international debacle, with China and other countries returning our "garbage" to us. The basic problem is that our recycling must be clean. Well, we know some folks do toss garbage into recycling, which ruins even that which is appropriately recycled. And let’s face it, cleaning what we would ordinarily throw away is extra effort.

Who’s in charge of this anyway? Do we have a Department of Homeland Recycling? Obviously no one has been inspecting the stuff before it leaves our shores. It seems rather loosely organized and dependent on a lot of consumer cooperation, which just isn’t going to happen. I don't necessarily mean that as criticism. I'm fairly conscientious about this, and I admit that I've made mistakes.

Kathy's keepers -- packaging of yesteryear

So, what’s happening with our recycling programs? I suspect recycling is going from the bins directly to the landfill, but I can’t convince my husband. Just this morning he cut himself removing the plastic ring from a bottle. Meanwhile, since my community’s recycling program is voluntary, my family's plastics, cans, and paper goods mount up in our garage. I happily save a lot of stuff, but one thing I can part with is the garbage. I wish someone would give me permission.

I believe there’s not much the consumer can do about this problem. Our corporations have to step up to this. That said, I’m going to investigate bringing less plastic into the house. I’ll continue to use my recyclable shopping bags, even my produce bags. I’ll quit buying apple juice in plastic bottles. I’ll look again at milk options. Perhaps I’ll buy Velcro by the yard instead of in the plastic shell. It won’t be a perfect effort, but I’ll try. 

Let me just add that in a recent presentation, the point was made that oranges come in their own package, so why do we need to buy them in a plastic shell? With guilt, I admit that I have some of those packaged oranges on my shelf because I use them in salads. Hmmm. I’ll think about that. KW

A MORNING HIKE

Mike and Bess walk of a morning, and sometimes that walk is a hike. This morning they hiked to Wheeler Canyon, which comes into Little Canyon. Mike took these pictures with his camera.

Workers are here at the farmhouse this morning, laying the vinyl on the sun porch.

Bess -- Time to practice for hunting season.