Let the Monsoon Begin

 The rainy month of May continued into June. It was a LOT of rain. More than once it came fast enough, and hard enough to cause a river to run through the pasture. The storms came night and day, but luckily we missed all the hail, and the most severe winds, but the lightning was close and beautiful.

I was beginning to wonder if it would ever stop raining on an almost every other day basis.  The heat was creeping up and it wasn't leaving, not even at night. I started to wonder if we were in for a wet summer. I was eyeballing haying season and trying to figure out how to cut and dry hay with rain perpetually falling from the sky. Of course all the rain made for a banner hay crop. In all the years we've been here I'd never seen it so high and thick. I wasn't sure it would make it to a mid to late July cutting. If I cut it early enough, I could get a second cut out of it if I wanted to.  As I pondered over the passing days, the temperatures continued to rise. We went from comfortable to just plain miserable. Our temperatures were in the 90s and the heat index with the humidity was well over 100 every day.

Tomatoes loves the warmth at night, but what they don't like is the endless hard heat all day, and they do prefer their roots to not be soggy all the time. I started watching for blight, fungus, mineral deprivation, fruit setting issues, and end rot.  I had pre-treated not only the seedlings but the garden for end rot, but with all the rain, the treatments became moot. Vigilance was the name of the game. The garden as a whole went from seedlings to jungle in a flash. 

Early May

Mid May

Late May

Catawba Grapes

In fact, everything around us seemed to be really enjoying all the extra moisture. The new cottonwood tree and the river birch grew almost 6 feet this spring, which is incredible.  The willow trees went crazy, although they are kept in check by the alpacas. 

Arapahoe Blackberries

Oodles and oodles of Mulberries. I didn't make any into jam this year. I left them all for the wildlife and the hens. 

The first of the gorgeous sunflowers. Dwarf Scarlet

The bulging hay field.

Wisteria

 About the third week of June I started watching the weather patterns very carefully. I needed a full 3, preferably 4, days of wind, sun, heat, no morning dew or rain to make hay. I had already watched the local farmers take in the first round of alfalfa, but it was still too early at that point for me.  At the very end of the month I could see it coming, a TINY window. Doc and I moved all of last year's hay to the barn and I cleaned the hay shed in preparation for making hay. I could do everything alone, but the loading and stacking so I had to time it so the men could help me there. 

Rain at night, an high dew points, meant foggy and 
dewy mornings. Terrible for drying hay.

With the hay shed clean, all I could do was wait. Then I saw it a small window of nice weather. It would put the final day of drying and baling on a weekday, and as always, up against impending rain, but it would have to do.  I cut, tedded, turned, waited, turned it again, raked it, and baled it and we all loaded it in the shed.  Last year was a good year, and this year's yield beat it by 30%!  We filled the shed to the brim on the same day we STARTED using our first bale from last year.  I decided not to do a second cutting of hay and just allow the whole field to rest while the rains were coming and supporting seed development and reseeding the field.

With the garden plugging along and the animals all taken care of and the hay in for the year, I took the opportunity to hide inside. Since the Grad was home and needed the space I had my sewing equipment in, I decided to give the whole room to him for his home office. I collected everything and scrounged craigslist for a large table to use as a cutting table and set up shop in the partially finished basement.I hung a couple of inexpensive curtains from the ceiling to block the view of things in storage. Of course after I set everything up for maximum ease and efficiency, I closed my etsy shop. It was driving me insane. The customers were amazing and I do miss it, but the policies that were constantly changing had me loosing money on each transaction, and I had no identity of my own. Think about it, when you get something on etsy, and someone asks you where you got it, what do you say?  Do you remember the shop name or the creator without looking? Nope, you say, "I got it one etsy."  I decided to stick to a small local shop that supports local sellers and craftsmen.  

June being her adorable country self.

The boys waiting for me to hold the hose and cool 
them down.

May- The Lovely Month Of May

 The glorious, mad, merry month of May. I love it. The still cool evening, the moisture in the air, and the warm days before the bugs get going. The atmosphere gives way to towering thunderstorms the fully saturate the waiting soil.

The focus of the early portion of the month was taken up with weekly baking for a local shop, and moving the items in the overflowing seeding shed to the greenhouse.  The increase in warmth and direct, real sunshine was heaven for the plants.

Whole Wheat Challah and Whole Wheat Sugar Cookies 

Mother's Day Plant Sale

The warming month was welcome to everything on the ranch. 

Sunbathing Suzie

Sunbathing Chickens

We did find time to have a new college graduate. 

Surprisingly enough, graduation day was only 40 degrees, howling winds, and threatened rain, but picture day was glorious!

The lilacs and the iris' bloomed right on schedule.

The weather was simply glorious this May. We had plenty of rain and after the first weekend of the month, it warmed up considerably, but not to the point of having to try to keep the alpacas cool before the sheering team to get to them.

  

This year the team was coming at the end of May instead of June. It's a good thing, because they were thick, and woolly, and crazy.

Yup, that's the same critter.

By the 25th the soil was warm enough and wet enough to get the garden in the ground. Row after row of tomatoes with zinnias (for the hummingbirds) and marigolds in between. Green beans and decorative corn with a patch of dill especially planted for the Swallowtail butterflies filled out the rest. I made room for sunflower giants for the song birds in the fall. (Blackberries and Horseradish are permanent residents.)

It always looks so clean and happy before the weeds try to invade.

By now the babies are 8 weeks old and actually look like chickens. The big girls would invade the grow out pen during the day and visit. By the time I was sick and tired of cleaning up after them and the mess they made of the shop, they were just fine when I decided to chuck them into the main coop for good. No fuss, no muss, no fights.

As we slide into June, the maintenance month, I leave you with a real live, red, 6-spotted Ladybug.

April - A cold snap, destruction in the orchard, and renewal.

April is a polar month. Not in the sense that the weather is arctic, but rather in the sense that it is well known for its inability to make up its mind as to which season it belongs. It is neither hot nor cold. It is known not for its endless sunny days or its clouds.  Shall it rain today, or snow?  Many times you’ll find yourself dressing as for a sleigh ride in the morning and be in a tank top and shorts by afternoon. The one thing that is certain is that everyone, aside from the most warped among us, is dreaming of seeing Winter in the rear view mirror.

We have spent our Winter planning gardens, searching catalogs for patio cushions,

and looking forward to the day we can once again expose ourselves to the warmth of the sun without

running the risk of frostbite.

The beginning of April is, as always, a battle. It teases us with a little rain and a little sunshine.

We, in anticipatory haste, swap our chunky sweaters for our knit tops, and our floor length skirts are

packed away in favor of the knee length variety. This activity, while mentally uplifting, is only dashed to

deeper depths when Mother Nature decides to run afoul and change her mind again.  

This year we had ample moisture and for the first time the orchard looked like an orchard.

The branches were full of blossoms and heavy with thick leaves. I was thrilled that for the first time ever,

our orchard looked like a field of trees from the road instead of a twig farm.

Even the bees came out in time to take advantage of the abundance instead of taking a look outside

and rolling over and going back to bed. 

Fertilizer was going down monthly, and the spraying schedule was firmly in place. 

It was all going so well, until our local deer herd, heavily pregnant, got a craving for apple trees.

Nothing stopped them this year;bait, repellents, sprays, electric fencing, noise, dog urine/scent, soaps,

perfumes. They killed 16 of our 40 trees.Many were killed outright. Several were damaged beyond

saving, and others had to be pruned to the point of questionable salvageability.

With a great deal of green plants and grass around, I still have no idea why they targeted the trees.

It was not for lack of available food and it makes me furious.  I removed the dead and dying and am not

replacing dead trees from here on out. The cost involved as well as the time, when there is no way to

mitigate this herd or the damage it causes, has become insane.

The garden was beyond the planning stage as was in full growing mode in the seeding shed as were

about a million other seedlings and planters that were part of a Mother's Day Sale.

The greenhouse wasn't quite ready to use. Through remote thermometers and a web camera,

I was able to keep an eye on conditions day and night. While we could reach over 100 degrees on a

sunny 40 degree day, nights below freezing, meant the greenhouse temps would come crashing down

too. As evening temperatures rose towards the end of the month, night temperatures in the greenhouse

would stabilize to equal that temperature and thereby temper the young plants and get them ready for life

in the real world. That is a GOOD thing. Roasting them in a sauna all day, was not.

While the roof did have two vents, the way they were built were NOT stable enough to be open in prairie winds. I made a stacking blocks for each corner of the window from 2x4s and a tie down system that is attached to the shelves below. This worked ok if the door was open, but when the door was shut to keep our marauding hens, warm air could rise, but with no openings to let in fresh air, this was limited movement. I needed a way to let in fresh air, but not rain. I had to wander the hardware store for a while, but I came up with a solution finally, dryer duct covers! I cut holes for the plastic covers using a razor knife and used silicone to seal around the hole, the screws, and the vent. To make a caps for the hole, to keep out colder air in the Spring and fall, I found test caps in the plumbing department that simply needed a tiny edge removed with the Dremel to fit easily. I added 6 of these vents. On a warm, sunny day, the greenhouse can still go well over 100 with all vents and door open. Next year I will be ready with an external shade to knock down solar radiation.

I was also not going to raise chicks again, ever. I don’t like it. It’s not my job. That job belongs to a big fat hen. However, due to last month’s disaster, and a very old rooster, I didn’t see any way around having to go out and find chicks and raise them myself. I found myself, again, at the farm store, staring into large stock tanks glowing red with heat lamps, and full of fluffy, peeping cuteness. I lost 14 hens, some of which were on the cull list for the summer due to perpetual illness or lack of productivity, but that’s loss on my terms, not some stupid Mink’s decision.  Hmmm, how many should I get?  Four hardly seemed a worthwhile number for the cost, effort, and mess involved. A dozen? Sure, why not? In for a penny, in for a pound. 

I came home with a chirpy box, set up the grow out pen, and kicked back and watched what we dubbed

‘the dirty dozen’.  There are three breeds; Barred Rock, Cinnamon (one of which turned out to be a

legbar mix), and Buff Brahmas.  It’s wasn’t until they were older, and I could tell them apart that they

were given their names; November, December, January, February (Barred Rocks as they are black and

sprinkled with snow);March, April, May (cinnamons as they are red with decreasing amounts of white on

them), June is the legbar and has a funny hairdo; July, August, September, and October are the Buffs

and have increasing amounts of black on their tails, but are ridiculously hard to tell apart. Doc just calls

them the Yellow Daisies as they look like our previous girl Daisy who was a white sussex. 

The alpacas were just happy to not have mud squishing between their toes.

Mud squishing everywhere else however, must have a different criteria. They know I don’t care, as long as they hold off on the mud packs the week before the shearing team comes. To them, a warm,breezy April day is heaven. They know it won’t be too long before April gives way to May and their year old fleece gets hot when the weather teases with 80 degree days and the humidity rises. Sun’s out, guts out.

The Greenhouse - The One Week Project

 I have wanted a greenhouse for years. With last years difficulty with finding plant starts after a late freeze, and pandemic spending adding more first time gardeners to the shops, this seemed like the perfect year to actually put one up. I'd been mulling it in earnest for over a month, do I build one from scratch or purchase a kit?

I started looking at sourcing materials to build one. The price of lumber this Spring was insane. The cost of that alone was prohibitive. Then I'd have to source all the old windows, which for once, were completely missing on craigslist. I'd have to go with a kit.

The number and type of kits to choose from is ridiculous. I was loosing time quickly as it was the end of March and our date for planting is May 15th to June 1st, depending on the crop. Tick, tick, tick.

Once I settled on the size, and type, I needed to FIND one. It seemed the whole world was trying to go self-sustainable. Everything I found was back-ordered.

I finally found one locally at Harbor Freight. It didn't have the best reviews, but reading across the internet and what the problems were, I could easily mitigate them, I hoped.

I ordered this one and picked it up the next day.

I decided to build a real deck flooring for it, as no where on this property was level, it needed a strong base to attach to, and if it DID fail, I could use the good base as an investment to build a wood frame hot house.

I stopped by the lumber yard on the way home and got to work immediately. This was the day after the great hen house massacre, so the work and activity gave me an outlet for my guilt and frustration. The holes were dug and awaiting concrete, which had been picked up with the lumber. Under supervision of the remaining hens, I set the posts in concrete and called it a day. 

The next day was framing it out, trimming the posts, and building the decking. In true me form, it measured square, but sure wasn't. It's a trapezoid. But I did center all the deck boards and had Doc rip a couple of my boards to finish the two ends.

Day 4 found me sealing the gaps in the decking to stop airflow up through the floor, and then painting the whole thing 'go-away green'.

Day 5 was a second coat of paint.

Day 6 was a Saturday and the weather was going to be dry, rain free, and gorgeous. Doc agreed to help me put the whole thing up, which was a good thing, as I didn't think I had the brains left to do it alone. We sorted the parts out on the lawn and set to work.  It wasn't too horrible but did take the entire day. The instructions were not the best, but at least the parts were well marked. Had I followed the instructions from the start I would have found out an important thing, we were missing a critical piece. I had the panels up and clipped in place, but we were missing the upper frame of the door slide. Strong storms were coming in that night, and without that door assembled and shut tightly the open end of the greenhouse would blow out the whole building.

I called Harbor Freight to see if they would pop open another box to get my missing piece for me. They said they would gladly, if they HAD another one. NO! I called three other HF stores, the third one, an hour and 20 minutes away did and would open a box for me. I dropped everything, and left Doc on his own for lunch, and to assemble all the windows and the door while I was gone. 

I was there and back in 3 hours. 

Doc finished assembling the door frame and installed the door and upper vents, while I secured panels further with steel paneling screws. We put the last screw in and closed the door as the last of the daylight faded. The storms came in the early hours of the morning. The winds howled to 63 mph. I dreamt of going out in the morning to blown out panels all over. Nope. There she stood glistening in the sunshine.

Day 7 was Sunday. I let Doc get back to work on his grading as the semester was wrapping up. I spent the morning sketching out the shelving and storage for the greenhouse, and figured out what I needed to accomplish them. Then it was back to the lumber yard, and back with 2x4s that cost me an arm and a leg. 

I spent the afternoon painting them so they would dry and cure over night for cutting and assembly the next day.

Day 8 - Monday again. I walked the dog and then left her napping on the sofa. 
I let the hens out, opened the workshop high-bay door, cranked up the radio and set to work. 

I had the design all worked out on scrap paper, but double checked my measurements on the floor of the greenhouse, as there was no room for error, no second trips to the lumberyard without painting involved, and no scrap 2x4s in the shop to be had. While they were an easy design, I took my time in building the pair of them, and they took up most of my day.  I was able to install one of them alone with the help of furniture sliders. The second one, however, while the same weight and size as the first, couldn't be managed alone as the space in the greenhouse was now limited due the the first being installed. Someone had to balance the second while another crawled through and around in order to wiggle it from the open walk way into its final position. 

They look great, hold an incredible amount of flats, and weight, and make the most of the space. Spoiler Alert Photo from later in the season.  At one point we had over 1000 seedlings, and held a couple of plant sales locally. 

The Insanity of Spring and Summer Ruled the Roost

 The fact that it is September in less than 48 hours blows my mind. While I'm ready for cooler weather, I am not ready to give quarter to shorter days and giving over to the cold and wind I know is coming. I honestly do not know where the time went. One second we were babying the tender sprouts in the seeding shed, and preparing to move them to the new greenhouse, And then it was a race to get things in the ground and sold before the heat destroyed all my efforts. Everything I touched seemed to be up against a deadline. 

Before we knew it it was college graduation time, planting time, shearing, birthdays, the 4th of July, farmer's markets, another birthday, surgery for the dog, the start of University, harvest, canning, and the State Fair. 

Along the way there was fun, stress, anxiety, storms, milestones,and of course, some funny stories and some great photos.  To be honest, I thought I had written two posts that don't seem to be here. I don't know where they are, but they aren't here, which is ridiculously odd.  One was about building our new greenhouse, and the modifications I made and its review.  The other was about heartache in the hen house.  I distinctly remember writing them, so I'll have to see if I can find them. So I'll spend the next couple of days catching you up.

March 2021

March is the Month we snap out of Winter, or at least try to. After the Skunk situation, we had moved past the iffy days of the month, and were moving headlong into Spring.  Enough warm air came in to keep the intense moisture we began to receive as rain, instead of snow.  Rains came inches at a time and a stream seemed to run through the pasture on a regular basis as it worked its way down hill to the lake.

Fortunately, wet alpaca toenails are the easiest to cut. Unfortunately, this means you have to snuggle with a wet alpaca. Now I love the boys, but oh my, do they stink when they're wet. Imagine 200 pounds of hairy, stale, wet fritos. or popcorn. Ya.

Even soaking wet they're still cute.  We did let them dry out before we caught them, slapped their harnesses on them and lined them up for pedicure day.  Merriweather, sat happily atop the hay and supervised.  

There was a great deal of annoyance with the day we picked.  It has to be warm enough not to deal with bulky clothing. It has to be cool enough that you don't get hot and frustrated, while working. It needs to be dry (see above), but not too dry or the nails are hard to cut.  Add to this that my newest clippers weren't up to par, but the old pair had lost their edge. PLUS none of the boys wanted a pedicure.  Heathens.

Stormy refusing to get up and 
walk to the chute. He tucks his 
feet under, locks up, and goes boneless.

After a great deal of pushing, prodding, and pleading all their nails were trimmed and fleece was checked to see how it was progressing for shearing in May.

With the incredibly wet weather I entertained myself by cooking, planning the garden and planting successions, weaving, and building.

Whole Wheat Braided Loaf

Cinnamon Roll Twists

The Seeding Shed

Mini Woven Cording For A Set of 19th Century Stays

(The following contains the passing of livestock, for those of you that are sensitive.)

The last day of March was miserable.

I had found a small mouse hole in the corner of the run that had by-passed the security mesh. I decided to seal it with concrete the following day when I planned to set some posts for the new greenhouse. Little did I know that that would be a fatal delay.

Doc went to work, I and I went out just after dawn to let the feed the hens. It was terribly quiet, too quiet.  As I approached the chicken run, I noticed the fresh areas of digging by the door, then as I turned my head, I notice the area of the mouse hole had been dug out and slightly enlarged.

The actual hole is only 
1.5 inches in diameter.

Then I saw the first little body, then another, and another. I feverishly opened all the latches on the door to the aftermath of a massacre.  Feathered body after body lay around the run. I let out a wail of shock and sorrow that split the dead calm of morning. 

I spied the quiet survivors hiding in the coop, high up in the rafters. I raced around to the door to the coop and flung open the door, keeping my eye out for the killer who could still be lurking, threatening in the coop. More bodies littered the floor. 

Sadness on Many Levels

My mind pushed sorrow out of the way, and focused on rage, and as fast as that came it went working in overdrive looking over the survivors for a quick roll call. Merriweather, where was Merriweather? There she sat, high on a perch, behind the rooster.  I grabbed her and pet her while I continued to gather myself and assess the carnage. The alpacas the whole time, standing on the other side of the fence in vigil, had witnessed the entire event, and now me, lining up the dead near the coop. They knew something was wrong and just stood there wondering why their little friends were just lying in the grass. 
14 of my 24 birds gone. A single bite to the back of the head. Faster than they could flee the sneaky beast. The chicken keepers most deadly, ferocious killer, a mink.

I knew he'd be back that night to collect his work. We set out a trap, and just as the sun set, he was mine.  He was huge. 

This left a huge hole in our flock, which I of course swore I wouldn't fill, until I did.