Middle of Harvest

The Big Guy and I spent Wednesday afternoon and all day yesterday harvesting corn.  Only one of the three properties has been set aside as a loss.  The others have had average to better than average yields and we thank God for that!



When we work together, tBG unloads as we drive across the field (about 3.5-4.0 miles per hour). Yesterday's yield was so heavy I couldn't make it back from the bins before he was ready to unload again.  Good thing he had a book to read!

The Big Guy' view (from the combine) of the All-For-One (that's me) driving the tractor and grain cart. 

 

My view driving to the grain bins.

My dangling feet (they don't reach the floor)-!

Unloading.

The switchboard.  It's just a matter of turning the "drag" on and off each time.

Yesterday was a long day. We harvested from the time the dew burned off the fields until I left for a 4:00 meeting at the elementary school.  Grace finished making beef stroganoff for supper.  Rachael, Laura and I drove to Muscatine for a sewing class with the extension office.  On the way there, we helped the Big Guy shuffle equipment to another field.  Laura's calf needed fed when we got home.

This morning Laura and I helped Grace with her calf.  The little guys got real food in the bottom of their milk buckets for the first time. 

Breakfast in the barn.

On our way back to the house from the barn, what did I see but the towels that got rained on (again). After a run through the spin cycle, they're in the dryer.  I hope they make it back to the closet...

The End of Canning

It's Wednesday and the clean up continues.  These need to be carried to the concrete-block storeroom in the basement (pictures once I get them all tucked in-?):

It rained last night.  Because it's an old house, rain dripped in through the sun roof in the kitchen (which I love--thank you, previous owners!). 

That meant the Ajax-crusted pots on the floor caught some moisture and an extra dose of soaking.  Now they're polished and ready for another go.

Unfortunately, I'd forgotten to bring in the clean beach towels we'd used on the floor.  The sun is out, so perhaps I'll overcome what Laura calls my "old-timers" and remember to bring them in later today.

On my way back in the house, I was motivated to wash the floor in the laundry/mud room.  Washing it on my hands and knees, I realized it needs some TLC.  I am looking for a good product to replenish and protect the real wood here:

and here, on our two front doors:

Please recommend a product in the comments here. I may have time to work on them before the schools call me in to substitute.
Here are yesterday's eggs... which I will take to friends at church tonight (barring "old-timers").

And pears we have yet to process or give away.  They are delicious: crisp and sweet!

What I don't have a picture of is the fun I had teaching the new calves to drink out of the water trough at the barn yesterday.  They spend the day in the pasture.  At night Grace and Laura lock them in jugs, feed them two quarts of milk and keep them there until the next 12-hour feeding.  It was so hot yesterday the little guys were bawling incessantly. 

I climbed the fence and stuck my fingers out to Laura's calf.  He took hold and sucked.  Leading him slowly, we walked to the water trough and I lowered my fingers into the water, then removed them.  It took a couple of times for each calf, but they downed a significant amount of water.  What I couldn't have taken a picture of was the Holstein steers bumping my behind with their heads and licking behind my knees!  Ugh.  The reward of befriending them with apples.  Grabbing hold of the barn with my free hand, I was lucky to stay out of the watering trough myself.

Canning Day

Yesterday was Labor Day.  In a very real sense of the word.
The Big Guy continued harvesting smaller fields he could manage by himself.
Grace, Laura and I worked to put up apples and pears. Rachael enjoyed a day of quiet reading and crafting. 
Here's a look into what canning looks like at our house:

I've done this long enough that I've learned how impossible it is to clean hot, melted sugar from countertops, stovetops and floors.  It doesn't matter if it's me or the children, there's bound to be fruity sugar goo dripping, sliding, dropping from pots and utensils. We cover the stovetop with double duty aluminum foil. I tape down the edges and use a Sharpie marker to draw the approximate location of the burners underneath.

Laura washing the apples

We also use beach towels to cover the floor and an old vinyl tablecloth I picked up from an after-Christmas sale to cover the kitchen table.

Laura  making apple slices for canned apple pie filling.

After washing the apples, one of us quarters and cleans up misshapen, bruised fruit for applesauce.  The pretty apples take a trip through the peeler-corer-slicer for apple pie.

We run a number of pots at a time. The roaster works well on the bridge burner for sliced apples seasoned with flour, sugar, cinnamon and nutmeg. The large burner on the other side works well for boiling apple chunks that will be softened and run through the food mill. We also use the large burner for the humongous hot water bath .

Grace using the food mill (gotta love the Kitchen Aid mixer!) to process pears boiled in white grape and lemon juices.

Our pear butter recipe calls for slices of lemon and orange, cinnamon, cardamom, and a vanilla bean.

While we were busy cooking, Rachael began an old-fashioned rag rug with scraps of fabric from the collection in her room.

The beginning of Rachael's rug.

Due to the manufacturing-state of the kitchen, we ate supper on the back porch.  The Big Guy grilled for us and we enjoyed yellow squash and pico de gallo with ingredients from Grace's garden.

Supper on the back porch--Laura's our camera bug.  Rachael--her back to the camera--is our resident recluse.

 This is my favorite part of canning: when I strip the aluminum foil off the stove, pick up and shake out the beach towels, put away the vinyl tablecloth and the kitchen is clean and shiny.  Hurray!!

Tuesday morning.  The dishes are almost done and put away.  I have one more pot of pear butter to boil and seal.  The children are at school.  The Big Guy is off combining and his helper, Mike, should pull into the driveway soon. Laundry is started. The calves are fed.  I hope someone remembered to feed the big cows but it wasn't my job, so they may have a hungry day.  Ahhh. 

It's time to run errands and meet my friend, Joy. I'll put up a picture of yesterday's complete production when we finish.... Maybe.



Busy Day

Fall is a busy time of year on the farm.  As I write, our 18-year-old son is lying on the floor below the table where I write playing scorpion with his younger sisters.  They are running in circles and I am trying to share our lives amidst screams, squeals, and Native American whooping.

This is some of the week's bounty:  eggs the Big Guy gathered from the barn, produce from Grace's garden, and acorns she intends to grind into flour.





The Big Guy started harvesting corn this week. The yield has been affected by the drought, but it's warm enough that he'd rather harvest and spin it  in the dryer than have it collapse in the field and be lost it altogether.

Matthew came home from college for a couple of days to help.  He and David have harvested together for a couple of years.  This summer, Matthew drove a semi truck for a  harvest crew from Colorado.  Between the two of them, the harvest moves along seamlessly!

One of them cuts the corn with the combine (usually the Big Guy).  When the combine's hopper is full, Matthew pulls alongside with the wagon and tBG empties on the go.  They use walkie-talkies as needed to adjust speed and distance. (I know because when Matthews not around, sometimes I get to do this job.  The walkie-talkies are more for people like me than Matthew who just seems to know what to do....)





When the wagon is full, Matthew pulls into the building tBG designed and built for grain storage.  Corn and soybeans are dried and kept here until they can be transported to market. In the middle of the floor, running side to side, is a large grate.  Matthew centers the wagon over the grate, jumps out of the tractor and turns on the motor which powers a huge auger under the building.  He opens the gate under the wagon.  With every crank on the wheel, grain pours through the grate and onto the auger.  From there is it carried to various bins to be dried and stored.



The other exciting thing that happened yesterday was the purchase of two new calves.  Laura and Grace each got two-day-old Holsteins to raise as feeders. 

Ryan feeding her new calf!

No one was more curious than our three larger cows.  That, or they were interested in the apple slices I've been giving them from the orchard....

Yesterday I picked five gallons of ruined apples from the ground (one of our Dutch bunnies was very near, nibbling not far from my feet).  I used the fruit picker to glean another half bucket from the trees.  Grace has asked if we can make pear butter (from Mrs. Hawley's pears--more in another post) and can apples.  Since Monday is Labor Day, we've made big plans! Check back for a report and, perhaps, a recipe or two.

Thanks for stopping by!  We love to have guests at Pine Ridge Farm.

Therapy

To be honest, this blog was started as therapy and--as you can see--I'm healed!  That, or I've simply become one more delinquent blogger.  Honestly, I didn't think anyone would read it, but someone is visiting this blog--almost every day.  I guess I owe it to you to have something here because if nothing else, farm life is...current.
I remembered this blog as the Big Guy cut down diseased trees and I loaded the remains that are large enough to save for a cold, winter day. It might have been when he was way, way up as high as the loader would go and, I was leaning out the door to keep my eye on him.  I let the bucket down too quickly.  Oops.  I think he regretted his life insurance policy in that moment.
Pause. Draft saved. 

Days later:
As I've done chores and helped around the yard the last couple of weeks, I admit there's a bit of a rush in flying full-speed across the pasture as chicken droppings roll off the tarp winging behind the four-wheeler.
There's a bit of pride in knowing how to work the massive air compressor and fill flat tires.
There's joy in working weeds and dead debris out of the flower beds.
And there's simply something good about airing out the cobwebs between my ears.

The yard swing blew down in a windstorm last week, but the Big Guy got it up and running today.  He razed an overgrown lilac hedge, had a lovely Panchero lunch with his wife, tested the new swing, and did chores.  "A pretty quiet day."

Tomorrow he heads to the farm show in Des Moines and Thursday he hopes to begin harvesting corn. 
What an awesomely wonderful life!
 

Get Over It

It's been a l-o-n-g time since I've posted here.  Every time I whipped out the camera children would run for cover yelling, "No pictures!  No pictures!"  We've finally met their demand with a fitting parental response, "Get over it."

So, in a few words, here are glimpses of Farm Life in Iowa today:

Matthew and Laura went to an exotic animal auction and came home with four newly acquired Dutch bunnies (Matthew's purchase).

The neighbors cut hay and sent a wagon our way.  What a workout!

Yesterday the girls and I purchased new calves--one calf per girl.  The adventure begins!  Meet Mr. Flavius, Valentine, and Christopher Robin:

Last springs' daffodils multiplied and hung in the barn all summer.  It's just about time to bury them in anticipation of spring bouquets.

Fall is coming.  This is the scene from the back door of the barn:

And, for a grand finish, this is the shed that the Big Guy built....

Thanks for stopping by!  We're so glad you could visit us at Pine Ridge Farm.

The Conclusion of the Chester Saga

Here it is, short and sweet.  Chester lost his Pine Ridge Farm privileges.  He roosted on the porch, crowing indignantly when we didn't let him in at night, or carry him and pet him.  He failed to recognize his chicken-hood and the hood didn't recognize him either.  Thinking perhaps the dog was more his style, he followed Hoover, our golden retriever.  Chester crowed at random moments jumping in the air, wings flapping, to play. Hoover freaked out, ran, and hid.

The last straw was when he flew at Ryan, attacking with his spurs and beak.  After leaving a message on the answering machine, the Big Guy returned him to the neighbor's outdoor kennel.  That same week I received a lovely note from Chester's owner apologizing for any damages and wishing us a happy Thanksgiving. Long live Chester the (un-fried?  pre-fried?) Chicken!

Perhaps Henny Penny will make an appearance this spring and they'll live happily ever after.  One can only hope.