The long days of winter....

Winter is spent mostly indoors, at least for me - and Clyde - and Zoe - and Ghost, other than the household chores and ever nasty chore of keeping Clyde's litter box clean, there isn't a lot to do. I'm on the treadclimber 30 minutes a day, 30 L-O-N-G minutes followed by much gasping and swearing I'm never doing it again and then I do it again, then a shower, it still leaves a lot of minutes in the day.

I take a lot of photos and they are scattered throughout my Nikon site and now Picasa and I'm making an attempt to get more organized. When I'm searching for a particular photo, I don't want to have to go through over 600 folders, I want it to magically appear with a single (or two) word.

It's a job and after awhile my head starts spinning so I have to quit and take it up another day. During my search, I always come across photos that I just like and don't really have a place for them so this is 'some of my favorite photos' blog.

Bruce took this one of Clyde and I, it's typical of a cat, nothing you are doing could be as important as holding him on my lap.

I could be researching a cure for halitosis.

I could be googling some long lost relative.

I could be entering an online contest to win a million dollars.

"Not important," Clyde says, "Hold me."

So I do.

This is Herbert, my favorite rooster of all time. Herbert is a Salmon Favarolle, he and I met at the Clay County Fair and it was love at first sight, at least on my part. He was in a cage in the poultry building with a 'For Sale' sign and a phone number. I was almost rooster-less, if you didn't count Stuart, a little sawed off Cochin rooster who was shunned by the big hens. I dialed the phone number and finally reached a young man who lived just north of Spencer and was willing to part with Herbert for a mere $25 and the deal was made.

I had to wait until the fair was over to bring him home, Herbert had lived his entire life of 6 months in a cage so he didn't quite know what to do when I set him on the grass outside the coop. He ran a little ways, then back to me, shuffled his feet and looked up as though to ask, "Is that alright?"

"Yes, Herbert, that is perfectly alright."

He was a very nerdy rooster, that was why I named him Herbert. He was quite the gentleman with the ladies, if they weren't in the mood, well, he wasn't going to force the issue. It took a long time for him to assert his dominance over Stuart, it was quite the battle but Herbert persevered. What I loved about him was his gentleness, he was never mean to me, unlike Foghorn Leghorn who attacked me at every turn.

Herbert was no dummy, one winter day he found himself on a chunk of ice and couldn't walk, when I called his name he answered so I could rescue him. Herbert lived to the ripe old age of 4 and died in the coop with his ladies in attendance.

These were our twin boys, Smitty, right and Spike, I rescued them, along with their sister, from a car wash in Cherokee when their mother was killed in the street. I found a home for the sister but Smitty and Spike were here to stay. They have since both gone to kitty heaven but they were quite the pair.

It's nearly calving season on the farm, this is a newborn baby, testing out his legs.....

....a day later, scrubbed clean by his mother, sporting his own ear tag.

"C'mon, Ma, enough is enough."

Bruce shucking sweet corn for dinner on the front porch, with a little help from Barbara and Diana, the Buff Orpingtons. 

It's summertime and a family picnic at Leo's Pond, where the time honored tradition of throwing rocks across the water. Levi first has a warmup dance to get ready, look at those moves!

Zoe, the eternal optimist.....

"The birds will come to the feeder, won't they?"

This is how you keep warm in the winter...

....find some cats to cuddle up with, hopefully at least three.

Those Wascally Wabbits!!

I used to love rabbits, I raised several babies - not any more! We have an over supply of rabbits and not enough food so they are decimating my bushes and trees!

The Service Berry in front of the chicken coop.

One of the Iowa peach trees I've been pruning and watering the last few summers, trying to get it to grow, darn it, grow....

.....and the other, this certainly won't do them any good.

One of several viburnums that are bearing the wrath of the wabbits.

But the final straw was this apple tree I just planted last summer, sob!

That did it, this is WAR! I found I did have a couple weapons named Murphy and Mollie....

"Did I do good? Huh? HUH?"

Yes, Mollie, you did very good.

Dogs - 2 but the wabbits were still winning. I couldn't sleep one night and was downstairs, I looked out the living room window, the dog house is 5 feet away and 10 feet away from it were at least 6 wabbits!! I went to the front door, opening it oh so carefully, and, in a stage whisper, yelled, "Mollie, Murphy!" In a louder whisper, "MOLLIE, MURPHY!"

They rolled out of the dog house, the wascally wabbits took off for destinations unknown, and the dogs never even saw them. Instead they came up on the porch, "What do you want, boss?"

"Get the wabbits!"

They look hopefully around, "Wabbits? I don't see any wabbits."

"They are out there, go find them!"

So they make a half- hearted run across the yard, looking all around but no wabbits are found and soon they went back to bed.

I was still up later, looked out and the front yard was swarming with wabbits!!

"MOLLIE! MURPHY!"

Dogs - 0, those wascally wabbits lived to see another day, dang it.

"Get your OWN place!"

My little red hen lives to be a mother but even she has to be ready to pull her feathers out. They were adorable when they were hatched, so cute and tiny.

They looked to her for protection and food.

At night they all fit comfortably under their mother, she was ever vigilant.

"What are you looking at??"

But there has to come a time when they stand on their own!

These nests are built for one, possibly two, four is stretching it. They are like the kids that never leave home but just hang out in the basement all day, playing video games and eating potato chips.

She is probably wondering where she went wrong.

Selling calves

It's been a long time since Bruce has not fed out his calves to market weight but this was looking like a year to sell them early. Last year was record high prices for beef, if you were buying beef, this is not news to you.

But as with everything, what goes up, must come down and when the prices fell, there was much wailing and gnashing of teeth from anyone stuck with a feed yard full of high priced cattle that aren't going to fetch the high prices. Bruce said it looked like he could get as much for his calves now as he would this summer after feeding them out.

To be able to sell the calves on a special 'Green Tag Sale' the calves have to have certain shots and pre-conditioning so on Nov 25, after having to postpone twice because of bad weather, we worked the calves.

Nathaniel, working the controls on the fancy hydraulic chute and Clayton, the vet, work in a well rehearsed dance as the calves are run through. 

Bruce is called in for some repair work and luckily we have lots and lots of baling wire. A farm can't run without baling wire and duct tape and now they have really cool duct tape colors.

Big Bad Jon arrives with his 'cattle cane', prod them from a distance that won't get you kicked.

#32 is sporting the green ear tag that tells a future buyer he is good to go. He's not happy with the implant in his ear but I can't blame him.

This is one of our future cows getting her new 'Big Cow Ear Tag', she isn't happy about that either, she just doesn't realize that she is one of the lucky ones who may live here for the next 15 or 20 years, raising calves.

15 or 20 years?? Yikes! Will Bruce and I still be raising calves when we are in our 80's?? Scary thought.

Whenever we are working the cattle, Louie and Baby Bull get wound up and try to prove who is the toughest.

Baby Bull definitely won the dirty face contest.

I think I won the dirty boots contest, who would do this to a cute pair of pink boots? 

We are on the home stretch when Roger and Jon bring in the cows for their round of shots so they will have healthy babies.

And then the payoff, pecan caramel rolls and pop and the guys give them thumbs up.

Fast forward to Feb 10, the green tag sale at Sheldon and we had two loads to haul so drove a bunch in the barn where we load out.

Take 28 frisky calves, throw in some snow and cold weather, sort off 6 to stay home and it was a rodeo. We finally got 14 sorted off, 11 went down the alley into the trailer and the last 3 gave us the run-around. Soon the 11 came back down the alley to find out what the hold up was.

"Hey guys, we need to get on the road!"

We went to plan B where I got the other cattle prod and took up a position behind a wall in the alley to cover the door of the trailer. Bruce convinced most of the herd to, once again, head down the alley into the trailer, I counted 10. I guarded the gate, if they came near the open hole, I touched the prod to the metal and it zapped, getting the bovines attention so they backed away from the door. Pretty soon Bruce sent 3 more down the alley, 13, we were getting close. While he was attempting to drive a really ornery one, another ran by and down the alley, the renegade decided he didn't want to be left behind and Bruce was happy to slam the trailer door on 15 head.

The weather wasn't the best, snow and slick roads made for a slow trip up and back, the second batch loaded much better but we didn't get home till after dark, relieved that the job was done. Bruce won't know what to do with all his free time, this summer he will be able to go fishing and I will be off the hook to feed cattle.

Life is good!

Family Ties

Thursday morning we were off bright and early, picking up Mark and Sara on the way to Des Moines for a family funeral. The Nielsen cousins are all very close having grown up together around here, Bruce said when he was a kid, nearly every summer Sunday brought a crowd to Leo's Pond after church. They picnicked and swam, playing King of the Mountain on a pile of inner tubes. Lots of weekend nights were spent sleeping overnight in the cabin, cooking breakfast on the outdoor grill in the morning.

That closeness didn't fade even though some families moved away, it just made the times they do get together all the more precious, whether it is for a happy occasion such as Dick and Marilyn's 50th anniversary two years ago, or Marilyn's funeral on Thursday. I was welcomed into this family with open arms and everyone who was able, attended our wedding, Dick and Marilyn among them. They came to all of the family get togethesr and Dick always told good stories.

Two years ago Marilyn was diagnosed with a terrible brain disease that finally claimed her life.

I used to avoid funerals at all costs but have come to realize that it an important time to share memories with others and celebrate their life. It was so heartwarming to hear the stories from Marilyn's three daughters and one grandson, makes me wish I had known her better. They all talked about how involved she was with their and their children's lives. Having only known one grandparent, seeing her infrequently, my memories consist of drinking tea heavily laced with milk, spam and crackers and playing with her sparse collection of toys, it was very different from their stories. 

Their grandmother taught them in pre-school, took them for ice cream, went to football games even though she didn't like the cold, sitting out half the game in the car and praising them for the good game, took them to plays and out to eat at fancy restaurants, always had a special treat when they came to visit, was a great cook and planned a girl's weekend for daughters and granddaughters that was always a highlight for all.

I watched my own parent's involvement with their grandchildren later in life and hope my niece and nephews have fond memories of going camping, fishing and of Mom attending ball games and wrestling matches even though she really didn't like them much.

After the funeral we were treated to a tasty lunch, complete with glass plates and cloth napkins before caravaning to the cemetery. These church ladies really know how to feed a crowd in style.

Bruce approved of the lunch.

 That was when the cousins met up, pulling two round tables together and commandeering chairs so we could all eat together, making ourselves at home.

We hadn't seen Pat, who now lives in Duluth, for a few years but it was as though it was yesterday.

L - R, Kim, Pat's daughter from CA, Debbie, Dennis (one of Bruce's favorite fishing partners), Bruce, Sara, Mark, Les and Linda. The stories flow, even if they have been told before, again and again, everyone laughs as though they are hearing it for the first time.

Mark is holding court and has everyone's attention.

L-R, Pat, Larry, Larry's son, Larry's wife, someone I don't know, and Michael, Marilyn's son in law who is a minister and presided over the funeral. Mike pointed out, proudly, that he had over 20 years of pampering by Marilyn, on the other two son in laws.

A group photo of the guys as we were getting ready to leave for the cemetery, Mark, Dennis, Dick and Bruce.

The police escorted funeral procession to the cemetery through downtown Des Moines and then on I-80 was an experience that only be labeled chaotic. With two escorts trying to leap frog each other to traffic lights and keep the procession moving was akin to herding cats. One of the police tried in vain to stop a little old lady at a traffic light but she only saw the green light, looked straight ahead and paid no attention to him.

"Get out of my way, Sonny!"

It was even more hair raising on I-80, 70 MPH, vehicles zipping on and off ramps, the escorts trying to keep us all in a line, we were desperate to keep the hazard lights in our sight since we didn't know where we were headed. We finally were safely out of the rat race and driving off the interstate toward Waukee. We passed a gas station that advertised E-85 for $1.35! Wow, we have never bought it that cheap but we didn't dare leave the line of cars since we still didn't know where we headed.

After a brief, chilly service at the cemetery, we bid everyone goodbye, a last round of hugs and headed for home. Now the family has to learn to live without Marilyn in their lives but all the memories will carry them through. Bruce said that we should hit Sac City, home of the Cattleman's Restaurant about 5, just in time for them to be open for supper and we were all very receptive to that.

But first we had to get there, we never found another station with E-85, our fuel of choice, Bruce hit the fuel range button on the menu and it assured us the car could go another 69 miles.

It lied. We planned on fueling at the Hwy 4 station on Hwy 20 and we had reached the point of no return with no stations in sight. About 10 miles from our destination the warning light started pinging away and it refused to tell us how far we could drive.

In other words, we were on our own!

We all heaved a sigh of relief when we saw the station and held our breath until we were beside the pump, it held 16.9 gallons, it has a 17 gallon tank. Just a little too close for comfort. But the good news was, the price was $1.35!

We pulled in front of the Cattleman's at 4:55, the inside door was open so we took that as a good sign. Three burgers, one pork tenderloin, two orders of fries, one order of cheese balls, two Blue Moons complete with oranges in the mug, one hot tea and one diet coke for our designated driver later, we loaded up for the final leg of the trip.

As we drove past the coop elevator, we were in for a surprise, a huge herd of deer cleaning up corn that was left behind when they cleaned out the bunker! There had to be at least a hundred deer, some calming eating, some frisking around so I lobbied for a photo. It was hard because it was getting dark so this was the best I could get.

We made it home safely, dropping Mark and Sara off about 12 hours after we picked them up. It was a long, cold day with a lot of miles under our butts but our hearts were warm with more memories.

And I'm thinking we need to take a road trip back to Sac City with all my camera equipment, anyone want to ride along?

Winter Storm Kayla

Monday was an absolutely beautiful day, if not for the diligence of the weather service, we would never have known 'Winter Storm Kayla' was bearing down on us. Bruce and I were both in high gear, cleaning, bedding and feeding livestock in preparation of the big blow.

And blow it did, we were holed up all day Tuesday, venturing to the windows now and then to peer out and watch the snow pile up. Nothing much was moving, the dogs came out of the barn occasionally, where they had taken up residence for the day, circled the yard to see if there was anything out to chase or bark at, and returned, disappointed.

We knew what would be waiting for us Wed morning, there was no lounging around the house, we had snow to move. Bruce left first, after cleaning around the yard and said he would call when he had a spot for me to park at the farm.

This is what greeted me at the road...

....I was so glad I had Bruce ahead of me to forge the path, my little car would never have made it through the drift on the road.

At the farm Bruce opens the gate to the calf bunk that is drifted full....

.....I mounted my trusty Mustang skidloader and cleaned it, so happy that Bruce had the foresight to make the bunk wide enough to use the machine.

Can you imagine having to do this by hand? Oh my aching back!!

The cow bunk was full of snow but the girls didn't hesitate to burrow through it to get at the prize underneath, some silage. It left them with a snow beard.

And finally George came riding to the rescue, clearing snow drifts in a big way.

With all the snow, the creek came up again filling it bank full. It must be very frustrating for the resident beaver, it keeps flooding his den. We aren't sure where he moves during high water but he always returns and continue his quest to cut down all the trees by the bridge.

Despite the cold and snow, the beauty can't be ignored, this is the sight that greets us at the driveway.

Kind of makes all the work worthwhile....

....on second thought, naw!

Then they don't call....

Sure, they court you for months, send you letters, promising the world - then, just like that, all communication is over.

They made you think you are the only one.

And you wonder, what did I do wrong, why aren't they calling anymore?

Wasn't I fun?

Wasn't I pretty enough?

Was it something I said?

Or didn't say?

"Sigh..."

But then you remember, the caucus is over and you know they will be back.....all too soon....

And then you smile, you can watch TV again!

When the phone rings, it will most likely be someone you know!!

You can go to the mailbox and not have to take the wagon!!

Life is good once again, memories will fade....for now.