I Am Not Just The Photos

I wondered today what my attitude was the first July I posted.  I have republished the exact post from that date. Funny, how not much has changed and yet much has changed.

Thank you for reading my 2045 posts since September '08.  I have reached 503 followers.  I am embarrassed by not having time to read each post of yours every day.  Know my thoughts are with you when my words are not.  I promise I will improve soon.

Without further adieu my July 25th post from 2009.  Thanks every one.

...placed here carefully with a few words. When I have lots of photos, I have fewer words, so tonight I shall ramble, photoless. My picture may become clearer that way.

It is always hard to talk about yourself, truthfully, but I shall try. I am a housewife of thirty-seven years, a mother and a postal employee for almost as long. I have two grown daughters and three grandsons, the eldest, Andrew, lives with us. So at a time when we are supposed to be preparing for retirement, we are treading in the dangerous waters of puberty, this time with a boy.

Also, my husband is the emergency manager of our county, we both work outside the home and afternoons and weekends we try to farm, if there are no disasters going on. Now, you who farm know this does not work. There is always a fence down, a cow out, armadillos in the garden, Copperheads in the yard, roosters crowing, horses running and no time to get it all done. There are posts to cut, hay to stack, cows to feed, horses to groom (my pleasure), rocks to pick up, washes to fill, wood to cut, brush to burn, plus all the normal maintenance.

We are on the family farm, after traveling full circle. I was raised on a farm, my husband was not and his dream was to have a farm. Here we are, one following his dream of farming or cattle production and one following the dream of owning horses. We never dreamed of all the stuff in between. I knew, but hubby was not so clear on it since he had never actually lived it.

I was raised by Depression Era parents and was taught to make do, hubby goes to the store. I can make lye soap, hubby goes to the store. If I had a piece of material and the girls needed clothes I made them. Hubby went to the store. Hubby has learned, now, we make do and recycle things and has become quite good at it.

I had early visions of being a veterinarian but did not want to have my parents pay for all those years in school so I married the man I love. Shortly after I began my career and made a big circle and have landed back home again.

I love horses, I paint, I read, I write, I live, I photograph, and I cook and clean and do laundry and, whew! I am tired already!

Farming is a good life yet farming is a hard life. You learn about life and death up close and personal each day you help deliver a calf or foal. You worry when the dogs are a little off or a cow is overdue, or a horse stepped funny on that last walk by you. You know you're gonna butcher that calf but you name it anyway. I have cried with a dead animal in my arms.

I really don't know what I intended to say when I started this, so I'll stop. I think I wanted to say life is good, even when it is difficult, it is good.

StitchinByTheLake...

wants us to get acquainted, so howdy from a farm girl in Arkansas.  Marlene, remember you asked for it. 

Born in '54 the baby girl of three girls, we did a lot of traveling with Dad while he followed construction work.  Mom finally decided it would be better for students to stay at one school more than a few months so we moved home to our top farm and began farming.  Dad came home on weekends from road construction and tried to help catch up the work. You who farm know the work is never done.

As children we raised rabbits and red worms for pocket money. We also had hens, barn cats and working dogs.  We  had grapes, strawberries, apples, black berries, dew berries and pears in amounts big enough to sell.  We had one milk cow, a jersey/guernsey mix, who was milked twice a day.  A truck would come by and pick up our milk can. We also sold fresh vegetables in the summer. We learned both sides of farm work, the field side and the house side.

We learned that hard work, honesty, and family is important.  We all learned to cook, sew, preserve food and how to build fence and haul hay.  Most of all we learned how to give a day's work for a day's pay, how to make your word your bond and how to make do with what you had.  These were good lessons and have carried us through our life.

Before we stopped traveling with Dad, we saw many states and many places.  One place I remember is just across White River.  Blanchard Springs Caverns where we were allowed to explore the cave through the natural entrance before it was a public attraction.  Dad helped clear that land and helped build the road and the parking lot for the park.  My second favorite place was Murfreesboro Diamond Field where Dad was involved in the same job.  We were there before it was a state park.  Every weekend we would go rock hunting there.  I remember how the wet clay would build up on your shoes and also how much fun it was to play in the amethyst field where the dirt was black.

So I'm a natural rock hound and never visit a place without bringing a rock home with a memory attached.

The water garden above is constructed of rocks we've collected through the years.  The farm house is covered with a sandstone collection with some odd looking rocks.  The fireplace is all from our rock collection.  The center is an old grinding stone surrounded by petrified wood, fossil rocks and many strange formations.  Dad has rocked the chicken house, shop and hog house through the years.

I always see the rocks.

I see the oddities, the color, and have been known to struggle home with one almost too big to carry because it's special to me. Hubby knows me well and instead of flowers he brings me rocks.

Our spring fed valley in North Central Arkansas was once inhabited by Native Americans.  We have a huge collection of spear points, grind stones and arrow heads to which we hold the bragging rights.

After Mom passed we moved back to the farm in a small lodge behind the main house.  Dad had Alzheimer's and we helped our sisters with his care.  We built an addition that made the main and the lodge become one building.  It's not perfect but we call it home.

Hubby and I (both retired) have been married over forty years.  We have two grown daughters and three grandsons.  The oldest grandson lives with us. Andrew makes the fifth generation of our family that has lived here.

My oldest sister Marcy has a house next door.  Many of the photos you will see are from her early morning walks.

We have a family shop on the top farm where we are selling five generations and nine households of items including arts and crafts.  We saw so many things ruined  from being stored that this generation has decided we are cleaning house.  The five thousand square foot shop is opened when we have time since it is really only a yard sale but we do have some treasures.

We've been forced by the drought the past two years to thin our herd of Gelbvieh Cattle to a handful of seed stock. Marcy has chickens and cats.  We have dogs.  Dad's dog, two Border Collies, two herding mixes, a Jack/rat mix and a Cairn mix.  Seven dogs stay busy.  Four work the cattle and used to work horses when I had them.  All keep down the poisonous snake population and various varmints that come too close to the chickens.

We grow our own...not pot!...food.  We let the deer eat our apples and other fruit hoping to harvest one when the season is in.

I paint, sew, read, write, collect dogs (rescues). I can cook a meal for weeks after Hubby and grandson think we have nothing to eat.  I can embroider, crochet, hook rugs, make quilts, jelly and wine. I do hunt and am proud to be a gun owner. 

Sometimes I'm funny, sometimes I complain but you are always welcome to stop by and see what I'm up to at the moment.  The only thing I can promise is you will not be bored.

I Promised A Tale...

of my weekend work but it's Monday and I think I've  forgotten.  I know I started with a walk, my camera died.  I piled some fallen limbs in the pasture.  I listened to the highland crew rumbling vehicles and cringed at the raping of the land.  I placed rocks in washed places and picked up flint chips. 

Eight AM on a Sunday, here comes another truck and they park at the gate where the horses have gathered.  I head that way to see if there's a problem.  No problem, waiting on equipment.  I asked,  coming
through the pasture? Yep.  Do you guys know how much it rained?  Nope.  The piece has tracks, no problem.  Well, I mentioned the last time they crossed that pasture when they were told to go another way, how they bogged down two vehicles and almost got the dozer stuck too (remember the pictures).  I was not heard.

Track equipment is wonderful for one thing...it does travel where wheels will not, but it also tears the land apart!  This is disturbing land that has probably never been tracked that deep.  Sometimes they even leave track piles on the county road that a car cannot cross.  Hush, Gail, you were gonna tell them about all the work you accomplished, remember, no griping allowed.

I headed to the creek to breathe deep and enjoy the quiet of my early Sunday morning, uh, not this week, that was another time BEFORE the crew.

The water cress is blooming so most of it is very hot to eat now but still good in a salad.  Conditions have been wonderful for it to grow and I add removing the water cress from the spring branches to my growing list of things to do.

I have been letting my horses out to graze in the yard and the spring valley since the grass is so wonderful.  They have been naughty.  They rolled in the freshly planted, things coming up already garden.  Charme walked over apple trees in the orchard and broke limbs off young trees just to scratch her belly.  Okay, guys, your freedom shall be limited now.

Opened the alternate pasture, remembered two sections were cut out of the web wire to get a tractor through to haul out logs for posts (a month ago).  Okay, here's your job, go get two cattle panels carry them to this section and Southern engineer the hole in the fence.  I get the Polaris and carefully balance a twelve foot panel across the bed and drive over all the lumps left by machinery, barely fit through the gate and finally get within forty feet of the fence...and the panel falls off.  I carry it the rest of the way, piece of cake, brace and tie it to a metal post and head out for the other panel.

The horses are grazing in their new section peacefully until I head back in with the second panel.  You could see the idea hit Charme, I swear there was a light bulb above her head.  She starts trotting to the hole in the fence.  I am hollering whoa, don't you dare, come back here, all this while I am reaching backwards with one arm where I won't lose this panel and bouncing toward the hole in the fence. Charme finally listened but I got that hateful look that she sometimes gives me when things don't go her way.

I am almost to the fence and same spot, the panel slides, I remember to let go as my shoulder is wrenched from its socket and also remember to stop the ranger.  So I am doing good here.  Carry this panel too, hook it into the other panel and it lacks six inches before it reaches the next post!  Go back to the ranger looking for wire, anything to fill that hole, found some wire, nothing to cut it.  I am not making twenty five trips back to the shop to get this done.  I am making do, Southern engineering all the way.  I found a hachet and a hammer and proceed to cut the wire.  It works and I weave my magic with the wire and the panels.

Whew, I am finished, no one has escaped and it is just noon!

Absolute Vanilla Asks...

Nicky at Absolute Vanilla asked, "If you had to give up life on the farm, what would you rather do--and if you would refuse to give up life on the farm, what would be your reasons?"

Some days I could give up life on the farm easily, others...  The farm is not so much a job as a way of life, my history is here, my parents' history, my grandparents' history.  The land is a story board of generations past and generations to come, I am not sure I could ever leave.  I could pare down the farm work and it would be a leisurely life, just enjoying the beauty of the land and all it has to offer, but with ownership there is responsibility to the land, the wild life and the way. 

On a day when I am dreaming, I see myself in an old fashioned home with a third floor crow's nest, with paints all around me with the perfect light for painting and the perfect view.  On the second floor would be a secluded study for writing and reading.  I would dream of being notable for my words and for my art.

My style would be electic and I would always wear purple garments of soft flowing material.  I would have a totally selfish life style and indulge in my wants.

The ground floor would have a covered wrap around porch so I could enjoy the day from any angle, sitting in my swing with a tall glass of sweet tea.

I think I would like to travel and see those places I have only dreamed about but that would take money  I do not have.  Of course, if this is my dream, I can dream for funding too.

But you asked, what I would do, if I were not At The Farm.  I suppose my hubby and I would be on the river and lake more often.  Ye gads, that is sad when I cannot think of another thing to do.  I guess my life is At The Farm and I cannot truly leave it but only expand it.

Thanks, Nicky, for this soul searching question, I don't believe I have answered it.

Rudee's Question, Still Have Snow

The view before we drop into the valley.

The view from my porch.

You can see the snow is hanging on for another one.

Hangover from the porch.

Warning:  Beware of falling slabs of icy snow!

Rudee has asked, "How in the world do you juggle both a farm and your outside job?  I imagine it's quite hard to find balance."

Yes, it is Rudee, that is why I am unbalanced! 

I usually post about me but there is a team here and we all share the work.  One person could never do this.  We, sometimes, call in extras.

Fencing is a group project, as is harvesting the hay for the winter but many things can be tackled by one.  My sister, Marcy, has her retirement home here and she does all the plucking and perserving.  Marcy feeds her chickens, goat and cats.  So unless she needs assistance with a big job, like cleaning the chicken house, she pretty much takes care of all that.

My other sister, Beverly who has a house in town, is the floater.  She goes where she is needed.  Right now she is working on a back yard project for Marcy making raised beds and clearing brush.  Beverly's object is to get all of Marcy's gardening close to her house.  Earlier this year, Beverly was helping me organize my house.

Feeding of livestock goes to Hubby.  He uses the tractor so it is just a matter of transferring feed and taking it to the right spot.

Andrew does the dog feeding and I do the house work.  These are all just daily chores. 

Hubby and I each work a regular day and come home to chores.  Extra chores, like cleaning the springs, mowing the grass, tagging, giving shots, worming and general working of stock is all done on weekends.  I mustn't forget cutting firewood, fence posts, clearing dead timber, repairing washed roads, repairing fences...gosh, the list goes on.  All these are weekend jobs.

So I guess we balance this by not having a social life and not much down time.  We are hoping to finish cross fencing in the spring, then it will only be a matter of moving stock from one pasture to another with the help of the Border Collies.  All pastures have live water so that is nice and makes our job easier.

We also call in the troops, (children, etc) when we are doing a big project like tearing down Dad's old bull pen and replacing it with a round pen.  The spring cleaning(cleaning our water source and the branch below it) is also a troop activity along with  taking the composted manures from the lot, barn and chicken house to the garden.

I guess this is why farmers always had a big family, to help with all the chores.  The main way a farm works is when someone sees something that needs done, you do it.

There is a saying,  Farmers work from sun to sun, a woman's work is never done.

Things are far from perfect, Rudee, but we love our life.  There is always a pair of muddy boots by the door, something waiting to be done, but life is good At The Farm.

I hope I answered your question Rudee. Thanks for playing along.

Still Workin'

After Den, Andrew and I bought out Walmart, we returned to unload and work Saturday.

And you thought Bev and I were through organizing! We worked again today, mostly cleaning but a few more pictures were placed and a few knick knacks fine tuned. All laundry, dishes, floors, and three commodes are clean...it's an amazing feeling! I still have a few unorganized piles and places, but fewer than I did have.

I am playing with stir fry and no recipes. Had a lot of fun, threw in leeks, beef, three kinds of peppers, cabbage and water chestnuts, dashed some soy sauce, garlic, sugar, red pepper and wine. Toni and Bev helped with prep. Had brown rice as a side...or an under, which ever you prefer, with Mandarin oranges if you wanted them. Toni, Bev, Den, Andrew and I had a pleasant lunch, a real sit down meal, then we all returned to our various jobs.

Kubota King was out cutting trees out of the road up the hill with the help of grandson, Andrew. They are preparing fallen cedar to split for posts.

Marcy was planting some things but the garden was too wet to plow. She did not join us for lunch since she had already eaten. I think she was making Easter baskets for all the little ones.

I hope you all had a wonderful holiday and were able to be with the ones you love or wherever you wanted to be.

Work Goes On

Leonardo da Vinci said "Art is never finished, only abandoned." I feel that way about work, too. I leave for work and my sisters keep on working.

After Den got the garden dirt in shape, Bev laid straight rows.


The raspberries are planted. Marcy told Bev there were six plants, they magically multiplied into eleven. That is more than six but they are planted nonetheless.


One tree going down...

TIMBER!!

...one down and just a thousand more to go.

Cattle!!!!

Whose big idea was it to have cows??? My husband's. I have him totally to blame. I have heard good fences make good neighbors but I believe good fences will keep the cows in.

They have discovered they can find any hole and are off on their merry way. AGHHHHH!

I have to remind myself that this is a tax deduction. The calf we butchered last year melted in our mouths. I do love calving time, getting to see all the new babies. BUT, it is the other times that I have trouble with the hay-getting-low times, the fences-are-down times and the let's-run-over-the-person-who's-feeding times.

These cows are BIG! One cow kick could break a leg and I do not like the way the bull has been watching me.

For years, my husband wanted a farm. I, raised on a farm, continually talked him out of it. It is a wonderful way of life...but, it is not a nine to five day nor a five day work week.

Well, I guess God wanted us to farm 'cause here we are after all these years away. It was Mom and Dad's dream and now it is our dream. Or could it be nightmare?

I Know!

How about some ice photos?

The sun still rose.

The Sun still set.

The animals were fed.

Life went on...At The Farm.

The Weekend...

is made for relaxing after a long week of work...not exactly. After hubby and I work all week serving Joe and Jill Public, we should relax. Yes, we sure did!

My grandson had a ball game. Somewhere in this pile is Andrew. We won! One more game and the season is over. Hurray!

Returned from the game to relax. Yes, correct again! Beverly, Marcy and I loaded an entire pickup truck of walnuts. We piled brush, trimmed and burned. We dug and planted.

While we were doing this my hubby cooked a wonderful Gelbvieh roast.

We are going to get the farm done, one inch at time, if it takes thirty years.

Next relaxing weekend project was extending the pasture for the cattle.

This is hubby after we worked all day on driving posts, stringing wires, and cutting brush. Then the cows were too slow-witted to find the hole we cut! We called, we shook the feed sack, we tried to show them the hole but no....There has been a solid fence there for a year and there still was a solid fence in their eyes. Den finally dragged the feed trough over and they got the hint.

They may not be smart enough to read but they finally found the grass. I forgive them because their meat is so delicious.

Next weekend we are going to relax! RIGHT!!!!

Another day in Paradise

My husband, Dennis, is in the hay. It is late for a second cutting but since last summer's drought and lack of hay, we want ever piece we can get. Today I will join him in the hauling.

Yesterday was not good. Dennis broke the shearing pin on the baler. It had been so long since that had happened, he could not remember how to get it back in time. That was just an end to a wonderful day. Thirty percent chance of rain and only him working. The life of a farmer!

Don't get me wrong! Farm life is good. There is nowhere else you can see the hay growing and take pride in it. You can see your young calves being birthed. You can smell a barn full of good hay. Jump on a horse and ride your boundarys. Here you can also take a walk and find an arrowhead. You can fish in the ponds and play in the creek. You can drink fresh spring water. Most of all you can enjoy the quiet and peacefulness at the end of the day knowing it will all still be here tomorrow. Sit and wonder at the beauty of nature. Wonder did my grandparents see the same view? I would not trade this life for another.