AN OVERNIGHTER AT THE FARM

The times seem stressful as we prepare to refresh our town home with paint and carpet. Slowly the schedule is falling into place.

Lapins Cherry Tree

Meanwhile, repairs at the farmhouse are complete and it was time for the first mow of the season, so Wednesday (May 5) Mike rode his XT to the farm while Bess and I followed in the Jeep. The farmers were planting in the area but not on our place. Our fields were planted in the fall.

Our first task was to clear the yard of tree debris – pinecones, twigs, sticks, and branches – some of it sizable. It seemed like a lot, especially in light of what we did last week. Well, we were thorough, and Mike took two 4-wheeler trailer-loads to the burn pile.

Lapins cherry tree in bloom

When I was a girl, my dad assigned me to clear the grove of pinecones and twigs before he mowed, and I’ve always found it a most tiring job! Working while stooped over is just tiring. And my small hands can’t carry much at a time either. Even though Mike parked close to our activity, maybe it would have been better to have a receptacle closer to me. That’s it! Next time – and there will be a next time – I’ll use the garden cart.

Distant snow-capped mountains don't show in photo

Mike mowed and trimmed, and his Fitbit, which was in his pocket, registered the mowing as steps. We laughed, but it shows that it’s a rough ride. In fact, by the end of the day, I had 15,000 steps myself – none of them from riding.

It was our first over-nighter of the year, and as the day drew to a close, I blessed myself for having made the bed last week.

Downed pine snag

On Thursday, we had more chores to do. Mike cleaned the eaves troughs on the north side of the house and then struggled with bicycle inner tubes. I cleaned and weeded the raised beds. I wish I could grow a good garden, but these days we’re up against a hot summer. Nevertheless, I keep trying. With our next trip, I’ll ask Mike to set up the hoses because it’s dry out there – quite dry for this time of year.

Speaking of dry, the wind blew and blew and shrieked and howled. If it hadn’t been so warm, it would have been easy to imagine it was spooky old October. I was delighted when one of the pattern sites I follow offered a “Spring-o-ween” promotion – Halloween patterns for spring. It seemed so appropriate!

Pear tree in bloom

We delayed our trip back to town until evening, knowing it was hot in the Valley. (The official high was 92, tying with 1947 for the record high on that date.) We had to be in town Friday morning to have the house measured for carpeting, or we might have stayed over another night.

It's still windy and cool. The sun is warm, but that wind is right off the snow-capped mountains. KW

FARMHOUSE REPAIR COMPLETED

The "old snag" -- finally down

On our last trip to the farm, Mike left the old pick-up there with half a load of gravel. On our trip yesterday (Wednesday, April 28), he unloaded and leveled the gravel at the low place in the lane. Someone had already smoothed out the washed place.

I was busy at the house. I put the condiments in the fridge, put fresh sheets on our bed, and put away laundry. In touring the yard, I was amazed to see that the rhubarb in the compound was developed enough to pull. I got two quarts.

Mike also managed to complete some simpler tasks. He set up the clothesline and replaced his old alarm clock with a weather station on his bedside stand.

A small load of firewood for town

After lunch, Mike backed the old pick-up into the barn and hefted me into the bed. He then loaded firewood while I stacked it. We started with the pine and then moved to the maple. It was about an hour’s work – just a small load.

About 2:00, the plumber and his apprentice (his wife) arrived. The repair didn’t take him ten minutes. We enjoyed a brief visit and then they were on their way.

 A last photo of the standing snag

At 3:00, another vehicle pulled in – the tree service we hired to take down that old snag in the grove. You see, during the fire debacle of 2015, a hard wind also blew the top out of an old pine in the grove, leaving a standing snag. We sought assistance in taking it down to no avail, but this year Mike suggested maybe a tree service would do it, and the one that cut down our maple tree in town agreed to do it. He brought with him a retired logger who did the actual work. 

Discussion ensued among the men as to where the tree should land – not in the field, not across the grove, but downhill toward the cherry tree. “We can do that,” said the logger as he set to work.

TIMBER!

Now, Mike has to fiddle with his saws to get them to run. “What’s wrong with this sorry ____,” he will say in frustration. Ironically, when the logger went to start his saw, it wouldn’t catch. “What could be wrong with this sorry ____?” he screamed in frustration. “Sound familiar,” Mike asked me. Fortunately, they had a second saw, and before long, the snag was on the ground, lying across the north end of the grove, crushing only the little fir we had transplanted. “So be it,” said Mike.

Beautiful, fragrant pinewood

We had thought the wood would be rotten, but no – it will make great firewood. The logger said that the pitch in them preserves the wood. So – guess what! We have another two lifetimes of firewood yet to be cut, split, stacked, loaded, stacked, and stored. And that’s good because it saves Mike and Ken from having to find wood.

It was another 10,000-step day. We weren’t nearly as tired as we’d been with last week's trip, perhaps because we accomplished so much. Back in town, I warmed leftover pizza for supper and made a rhubarb crisp. KW

 

A HARD DAY'S WORK

We left for the farm around 8:00. Mike drove the old pick-up with gravel in the bed to refresh the driveway and trailered the 4-wheeler he borrowed from son Clint. I followed in the Jeep carrying a sewing machine and my dolls. Perhaps I should have taken more. The day will come when I’ll wish I had.

The kitchen repair has been done and looks good, but the plumbing repair has yet to be scheduled. The delay is disappointing but par for the course, and we feel we have little recourse for complaint.

The daffodils did not disappoint! I was so happy to see them in bloom. In fact, the first ones are now passing, but the array was still lovely. The Crown Imperials are also in bloom, and I saw some violets, too. (We won’t mention the dandelions.) 

 

 

The strawberries have new growth. The rhubarb in the compound looks healthy, and the plant on the hillside is still alive.

 

Mike and I were both busy with chores in the morning. I unloaded the Jeep and put things away. In the forenoon, we raked up pine straw that had come to rest against the woodshed, loading it into the 4-wheeler trailer. Mike made at least four trips to the burn pile with pine straw and debris.

It was a fairly nice day – 48 when we arrived and 60 in the afternoon – but I could see passing storms to the south and sometimes dark clouds loomed close to us. As I fixed lunch, there was a sudden roar like a train overhead – a microburst. I struggled to close the kitchen door against it. A chair was blown off the front porch and a box of yard lights and accessories was dumped in the yard. I found the contents but the box was evidently long gone. And that was that – no more wind. Undoubtedly a similar event broke the maple limbs last fall.

After lunch, I thought sure we were getting ready to leave for town, but instead Mike commenced to pick up the bark in the grove – great thick slabs from the broken snag. The smaller pieces he hauled to the burn pile while the bigger pieces were stored at the woodshed to be burned this coming winter.

“We’ll quit when we’re tired,” Mike said.

“I’m tired now,” I said.

“So am I,” he agreed.

So we agreed to finish this work another time.

As we were finishing up, Bess invited me to go for a walk, so we went halfway down the lane and back. As I climbed into the Jeep, my Fitbit buzzed to congratulate me on reaching my 10,000-step goal for the day. It’s a doable goal, but I seldom reach it. KW