Sunday, March 31, 2013
Thursday, March 28, 2013
Spring Break
This week is Spring Break. We've been relaxing on a warm Southern beach, enjoying some time off.
No. Strike that.
We've been working busily on and off our farm. Off the farm, we bought a "new" garden tractor and a "new" car. Both were desperately needed, and are welcome expenditures.
On the farm, we've been cutting 3 years' worth of dead and downed wood. Scheduling, illness, and just plain denial have kept us from this. But finally, finally, it is getting done. I'll share some photos with a smack upside my head. I should have taken a Before picture so you could see how wonderful our pasture looks right now in an After shot. The tree line is clear of dead things, low-hanging branches, which endanger critters and humans alike, are gone, and it almost looks like we care about this place.
But I didn't. So please just enjoy these shots of hard work being done. (The young man in the photos is a Boyfriend. Scary times.)
No. Strike that.
We've been working busily on and off our farm. Off the farm, we bought a "new" garden tractor and a "new" car. Both were desperately needed, and are welcome expenditures.
On the farm, we've been cutting 3 years' worth of dead and downed wood. Scheduling, illness, and just plain denial have kept us from this. But finally, finally, it is getting done. I'll share some photos with a smack upside my head. I should have taken a Before picture so you could see how wonderful our pasture looks right now in an After shot. The tree line is clear of dead things, low-hanging branches, which endanger critters and humans alike, are gone, and it almost looks like we care about this place.
But I didn't. So please just enjoy these shots of hard work being done. (The young man in the photos is a Boyfriend. Scary times.)
Saturday, March 2, 2013
Saturday Farm Report, And So it Begins Edition
I covered the garden with a tarp today. And the compost pile. Just 30 more days, and I will be able to move compost to the garden and plant asparagus and lettuces.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Rain
So, three days after I tell you we need some good precipitation, we get it. Last night we started getting rain. It was a little scary. There was a roaring sound, and rain was hitting the window. Now, that had happened here about 10 years ago. At the time, I went to the window to see what was happening. I saw sheets of water. The next morning, we found that the trees on our north boundary line had been twisted off at the tops! A tornado or some twirling wind phenomenon had gone along the tops of the trees and broken them off. I was concerned that that was happening again, but no twisted trees this morning!
The rain has been pretty steady all day. Midway through my history class this afternoon, I stopped my lecture to look our the window. Rain, rain, rain. It is a mess, but a happy mess. The ground is thawing and there is more and more mud by the minute. It was almost 50 degrees today. True to form, it will be down to 35 or so tomorrow. Snow is expected. Such is life in northern Illinois.
I got a sad letter yesterday. The local bovine veterinarian is paring down his practice, letting go a second vet and a secretary who had been with him for years and years. He'll still be practicing, God willing, for many years. He's the only bovine vet around! (And, yes, I know we have no cows here, but his practice includes sheep, goats and pigs. The other large animal vets around here limit their practice to horses.) So I think I'll have to get a calf this spring, to raise for beef, and to keep him in business~!
The rain has been pretty steady all day. Midway through my history class this afternoon, I stopped my lecture to look our the window. Rain, rain, rain. It is a mess, but a happy mess. The ground is thawing and there is more and more mud by the minute. It was almost 50 degrees today. True to form, it will be down to 35 or so tomorrow. Snow is expected. Such is life in northern Illinois.
I got a sad letter yesterday. The local bovine veterinarian is paring down his practice, letting go a second vet and a secretary who had been with him for years and years. He'll still be practicing, God willing, for many years. He's the only bovine vet around! (And, yes, I know we have no cows here, but his practice includes sheep, goats and pigs. The other large animal vets around here limit their practice to horses.) So I think I'll have to get a calf this spring, to raise for beef, and to keep him in business~!
Saturday, January 26, 2013
Saturday Farm Report
We had snow this week. Not enough to cover the grass, but, snow. We really need a big ole storm. I know it wouldn't be popular, but it's looking like last year's drought is continuing. We really need some moisture.
Jay and the girls are here this weekend. Justice is off camping with the Royal Rangers. We'll be doing some shopping and some other "girl things" later today.
The farm looks awful this winter. Recent windstorms have added some fallen trees to the already raggedy look we've adopted. It's been too cold to deal with those, even if John was home to do so. We're really looking forward to spring break, when he'll take time off, too, and we'll work on the yard a bit.
The chickens still haven't recovered from the raccoon carnage. The 5 of them are laying about 5 eggs a week. It hasn't helped that our area has been in the icebox for the past 10 days, or that their feed seems to look a bit different than usual. All these factors are forcing us to -gasp- buy store eggs. We really don't like to do that.
But we've been seeing waterfowl flying north. That's a good sign.
Jay and the girls are here this weekend. Justice is off camping with the Royal Rangers. We'll be doing some shopping and some other "girl things" later today.
The farm looks awful this winter. Recent windstorms have added some fallen trees to the already raggedy look we've adopted. It's been too cold to deal with those, even if John was home to do so. We're really looking forward to spring break, when he'll take time off, too, and we'll work on the yard a bit.
The chickens still haven't recovered from the raccoon carnage. The 5 of them are laying about 5 eggs a week. It hasn't helped that our area has been in the icebox for the past 10 days, or that their feed seems to look a bit different than usual. All these factors are forcing us to -gasp- buy store eggs. We really don't like to do that.
But we've been seeing waterfowl flying north. That's a good sign.
Friday, January 18, 2013
Dealing With Stress
We were living in our first house for only about 6 months. I was worried about money, as young parents will, especially because I had yet to be convinced that we could afford the thing. Yes, all the tax advantages had been explained to me, and I surely knew the wisdom of putting equity into our own home rather than someone else's. But things were still tight.
And I was lonely. We had moved half an hour away from family, and, with an infant and a tight budget, didn't have the energy or the money to drive back to the old home area as often as I would have liked. We made it there for church on Sunday, and the occasional mid-week shopping trip. I hadn't made many friends in town; women my age were mostly working, or lived in the newer neighborhood of town, and we had no contact. Lesson learned; join the church in your community. We did, and we've had friends ever since.
But we didn't then, and I was lonely, and a new mom with a new mortgage. John had just returned from a 3-week business trip to Israel, Germany and Holland. This was the guy who, on our wedding night, as we dreamed and planned, said, "No, there's so much to see in the U.S., I really don't think world travel is something I want to do." (My thoughts on that statement were so un-bride-like, I won't share them.) But he was the first to get a passport, and came home with stories about the fun he'd had, the beauties he'd seen, and, yes, a sweet apology for that wedding night statement. But he was at work this day, and I was thinking about the photos he'd taken that we'd just picked up; remember, this was back in the day when you took your film somewhere to have prints made!
The mail came. In it was a letter from the attorney who represented the widow from whom we had bought our house. The letter said, in effect, "We're sorry to hear of the death of your husband. But there is a tax bill that needs to be paid. Please get us the money ASAP."
I, too, was sorry to hear of the death of my husband. I called him to make sure that things were OK. He verified that, yes, indeed, he was still sucking breath.
And then all the pressure of all my worries pushed in on me so hard that I pushed back...and exploded.
I called the attorney and let him have it. I was upset that HE hadn't filed the proper paperwork to divide our property form a lot she still held next door, which necessitated us paying HER taxes. I was angry that this snoopy lady, who was still fishing in my mailbox to see whether she had any mail still coming there, was also happily making up stories about my life that involved my "missing" husband. I was aggravated--and, yes, I admit how silly this is--that my husband had had the fun of traveling to places I was still only dreaming of; he had even met my high school pen pal, who lived in Amsterdam, and whom I had never met! And, yes, of course, while I was giving this poor man a piece of my mind, the baby woke up from his nap, crying with a stinky diaper.
It was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
In the end, the attorney apologized. The tax bill was paid and the property properly subdivided. I have since traveled to Lithuania, Sweden, Austria (twice!) Italy, Germany and England.
Oh, and the "baby" no longer wears diapers. His baby is due in about 8 weeks.
And I was lonely. We had moved half an hour away from family, and, with an infant and a tight budget, didn't have the energy or the money to drive back to the old home area as often as I would have liked. We made it there for church on Sunday, and the occasional mid-week shopping trip. I hadn't made many friends in town; women my age were mostly working, or lived in the newer neighborhood of town, and we had no contact. Lesson learned; join the church in your community. We did, and we've had friends ever since.
But we didn't then, and I was lonely, and a new mom with a new mortgage. John had just returned from a 3-week business trip to Israel, Germany and Holland. This was the guy who, on our wedding night, as we dreamed and planned, said, "No, there's so much to see in the U.S., I really don't think world travel is something I want to do." (My thoughts on that statement were so un-bride-like, I won't share them.) But he was the first to get a passport, and came home with stories about the fun he'd had, the beauties he'd seen, and, yes, a sweet apology for that wedding night statement. But he was at work this day, and I was thinking about the photos he'd taken that we'd just picked up; remember, this was back in the day when you took your film somewhere to have prints made!
The mail came. In it was a letter from the attorney who represented the widow from whom we had bought our house. The letter said, in effect, "We're sorry to hear of the death of your husband. But there is a tax bill that needs to be paid. Please get us the money ASAP."
I, too, was sorry to hear of the death of my husband. I called him to make sure that things were OK. He verified that, yes, indeed, he was still sucking breath.
And then all the pressure of all my worries pushed in on me so hard that I pushed back...and exploded.
I called the attorney and let him have it. I was upset that HE hadn't filed the proper paperwork to divide our property form a lot she still held next door, which necessitated us paying HER taxes. I was angry that this snoopy lady, who was still fishing in my mailbox to see whether she had any mail still coming there, was also happily making up stories about my life that involved my "missing" husband. I was aggravated--and, yes, I admit how silly this is--that my husband had had the fun of traveling to places I was still only dreaming of; he had even met my high school pen pal, who lived in Amsterdam, and whom I had never met! And, yes, of course, while I was giving this poor man a piece of my mind, the baby woke up from his nap, crying with a stinky diaper.
It was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
In the end, the attorney apologized. The tax bill was paid and the property properly subdivided. I have since traveled to Lithuania, Sweden, Austria (twice!) Italy, Germany and England.
Oh, and the "baby" no longer wears diapers. His baby is due in about 8 weeks.
Sunday, January 13, 2013
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