January, The Quietest Month of the Year (NOT)

 

The month of January, the darkest, coldest, snowiest month of the year.  It's a month were snuggling up on the sofa with a soft blanket, a pair of woolly socks, a warm drink, and a good book is expected, nay, required.  By the end of January, a firm and familiar bond has been formed with your snow shovel. Each time you use it you wonder if this will be it's last season, or if you should treat yourself to a new one at the hardware store. After all, they're on clearance now next to the flower seeds.  Your woolen mittens are stiff and now perfectly formed and felted to the shape of your hand. You've completely given up on not having hat hair, and your chore coat, and your very pores perpetually smell of ode to diesel from tractor exhaust. You've developed milk maid's shoulders from hauling warm water to the livestock, and have mastered the art of 'going to your happy place' while preforming them 3 times a day, while being serenaded by the howling, biting winds.

But not this year, not this year.

We have been utterly blessed with fantastic weather this year. We are drastically low on precipitation, which is going to be a problem come Spring if we don't make it up soon. But the temperatures have been very, very nice.  We've been frigid, but then we bounce up into the 50s.  We drop again to have one or two days that never break freezing, but then we pop back into the 40s, or even 60s for a couple of days.  It's made it impossible to fall into the annual Winter funk.  How can you possibly waste a sunny 55 degree day INSIDE?  You can't.  You spend the little cold days inside planning and plotting projects for the nice days.  On the nice days, you work yourself silly before the cold sets in again.

The first couple of days of January were ridiculously cold. Our high temperatures were 9'F(-13'C) and 16'F(-9'C), respectively. Add the wind to that and it was a classic inside pair of days.  I used to to work in the sewing room.  A lot of odds and ends in the repair basket were tackled, but most importantly, I finished the Sewing double!  I have put this off for months.  The original pique knit, which was recommended, was far too stretchy. As you stuffed it, it overstuffed to beyond your measurements and was still too soft for its intended purpose.  To counter that, I changed to a heavy duty cotton duck and added a little to the seam allowances to make up for the total lack of stretch. Once that was complete, I glued heavy cardboard disks to the neck and arms ends to give it structure, slipped it over the base and stuffed it as tightly as I could while still matching the form and measurements.  It came out spot on!  Then I adjusted it to the correct standing height. It is now ready to help drape bodices, and hem skirts.  I'm glad I tackled this project, but I'm VERY glad it's DONE.

I knew I then had two days in the upper 40s and mid 50s.  Laundry was hung outside on the line, one day of clothing and the second 100 ft of sheets to be stripped for rugs on Fergus. It was during one of these hanging sessions that I got a bee in my bonnet.  Fergus was currently, temporarily, inhabiting the space under the window in the upstairs (main floor/ground floor) library due to the weather when we moved him from the garage and into the house, and due to his hulking size and considerable weight. Where on earth was I going to put him on the lower level where his sister, Nessie was residing.  I wasn't happy with her location to start with, I couldn't shove Fergus down there too and be happy. So now where am I going to put the two of them where I would be happy?

There was room on the lower level, large windows, but it always feels apart from the house to me and oppressive, even with the brightest daylight lamps blazing.  I live and work on the main floor. But where to put them both where they could both be used AND out of the way?  As I stood and worked on a rug on Fergus, it came to me.  I would relocate the library and make the library the weaving studio, or as Doc calls it, The Loomy Bin. 

I dropped what I was doing on Fergus, and grabbed my tape measure and ran it across the top of one of the bookcases, and then down the stairs I went to measure the wall behind Nessie and under the windows.  THEY'D FIT!  Then I measured Nessie and went back upstairs to measure under the window. Nessie was lower and would go under the window, while Fergus would go into a corner.  SHE WOULD FIT TOO!

I put the rug supplies to the side and immediately started taking things off the walls and carrying them downstairs. The walls would need painting.  I was shocked at how faded the paint was after only 7 years and protected by UV windows. I cleaned and moved stack after stack of books, then slid the heavy wood shelves to the basement and set the whole library up downstairs.  There were only hours before a cold front was coming through and there was no way I could move Nessie alone, she was far too heavy and bulky.  I folded her up, and made her as skinny as possible and I built an extension for a dolly to hold her.  Doc helped me load her up and get her to the trailer where we drove her up and around the house to the main level, then wheeled her to the front door where she had to be lifted up the stairs and into the house. She was officially in the Loomy Bin.  

It could get cold and miserable now. And it did.

I actually had a spare gallon of paint I loved from another project and spent a whole day painting the studio. The second day I put the room back together and decorated.  Yes, it was that fast.  It's set up exactly right. It's comfortable. It's soothing. It's functional, and lets me be accessible to the whole level of the house I use. And all of my weaving items are in the same room, not spread all over the house, hither and yon. I can close the door and turn up my podcasts or youtube videos and the dog can still see me (glass door), but I don't disturb the rest of the house with 'slide, klunk, swish, klunk'.

I can now keep an eye on dinner (or cookies) and work on a few rows.  I can work and the dog doesn't feel abandoned.  It's lovely. (There are still a couple of empty spots on the walls for certificates still in the mail. I am making a rail to hold my shuttles within reach, and an adjustable work lamp would be a great idea.)

As long as I had the roller, pan, and ladder out, I decided I may as well paint the dinged wall in the kitchen, which turned out to also be horribly faded despite having NO direct sunlight on it EVER.  Sad testimony for this brand of paint. (Suzie helped me paint the kitchen. Yes, my brilliant beagle turned headfirst into a wall.)

The weather warmed again and I put into motion the next outdoor project, as long as the laundry was flapping away on the line again.  I wanted a hoop house for the garden.  I had it slated for later in the Spring, but why waste those warm days, eh?  This would be a place to keep plants earlier and later in the growing season, once they out grew the proper greenhouse.  Irrigation lines needed pulled and cattle panels and T-posts needed removed to make room for the new structure.  I knew what I wanted, but only a little about HOW I wanted to do it.  There were some bumps in the road over a two week span, including some snow, some misfitting pipes, a dead can of paint, poorly manufactured parts, PVC cement failure and not being able to find the right size T-posts. But so far I have a bare frame.  She won't be DONE in January, but she's on her way.

Of course some things had to give way for the hoop house.  The up-cycled bean arch I just put up this fall felt in the way, so down it came.  And with those two rows gone, I could expand the blackberry row another 20 feet, deal.  As long as I was building longer rows in that direction I could add 10 feet to the hyperactive grape vine row, deal.  Oh, and as long as I was out there, the horseradish was not only too close to the hoop house now, but would also be too shaded.  It needed moved.  

Have you ever had to move a 5 year old mother horseradish plant? She was HUGE, 24 inches across and I dug down another 15 inches before I started cutting off the rhizomes, which were almost 2 inches across in some instances.  I broke off some larger ones and tossed them aside and moved mother to a new spot, then dug up two of her daughters and put them in the same row.  I know full well that each broken rhizome left in the ground is a potential new plant this spring. I will be overwhelmed with the spicy condiment, but it is welcome.

I brought in the pungent stick 2 inches across and 20 inches long.  I diced it into manageable pieces, and slipped them into a quart jar along with 1/4t of salt, 6 T water, and 3T of white vinegar and then carried it and my immersion blender to the front porch.  This is NOT a job for INSIDE the house. Holding the jar away from my face and pointed away from me I let the stick blender do its job.  I shook off the blender and capped the jar for 15 minutes before transferring it to a pint jar.  Not a bad haul.  Nothing like a fresh batch of the good stuff for February.

I installed a set of shelves in the sewing room to hold materials for the rug loom, since that's where they'll be cut .  I just took the first warp winding worth of rugs of Fergus.  I actually ran out of room on the take-up beam before I ran out of warm. I manage 12 rugs, with probably two left on the loom. When this warp runs out I'll order new heddles for Fergus, install them, and thread him up again.  It's nice to have a project that doesn't require a great deal of brain power for break times.  (Unlike the projects on Nessie, which require so much attention, the radio can't even be on.)

The hens and alpaca are happy and very much enjoying the warmer winter. Days are spent lounging in the warm sunshine and searching the poo piles for bugs and wayward seeds in the straw and dropped hay.

In closing, the only thing special that came out of the kitchen during this month long work-a-thon was a triple twisted cinnamon flake roll from scratch, 100% whole wheat.  I think it made up for the couple of night's that dinner was soup and cold sandwiches.

November - Time to Hunker Down for the Winter

With Halloween in the rear view mirror, the last piece of miniature candy devoured, the floor littered with their tiny exoskeletons, it's time to settle in, pack on the winter weight and prepare to hibernate for a couple of months. Time to drag out all those little indoor projects that can be accomplished during the shorter days, days when energy is lagging, motivation and attention span is absent altogether. Or better yet, finally settle down to a marathon of movies you couldn't get to during the busy warmer months, snuggle on the sofa with a cup of coffee, a warm fluffy blanket, and a pile of books.

November and its darker days always mean sewing and odds and ends projects for the holidays. The bright studio lights make the short, darker days, less so.  

But not this year! The weather has been INCREDIBLE. No rain or snow, and temperatures much above normal, into the 70s for many days.  It took well into November for us to even see our first frost/freeze and we haven't seen many nights below zero at all.  So plans changed to take advantage of the extended outdoor season.

November 1st I was able to purchase two 7.5 pound cushaw squash for Halloween clearance price, as here they are used as decorations and not as food.  They are one of THE premier pie and eating squash on the market.  I snapped these two up for $2 each and took them home, seat belted into the front passenger seat of the truck like two orphans.  In years past, I have cut them in half, seeded, roasted, scooped the meat out, and simply froze the puree in bags. Last year, my Ziploc brand freezer bags leaked all over the freezer.  What a sticky mess.  It was time to change tactics and experiment.  This year I made the puree and then loaded the silicone sheets of the dehydrator and let it do its thing for a ridiculous number of hours. I then powdered the sheets and vacuum sealed the powder in jars.  From 15 pounds of squash I managed 1 qt of powder.  To re-hydrate, I simply add hot water to Tablespoons of powder until I get the consistency I want.

Another unexpected clearance find was at the hardware store. The heat apparently didn't put many in the decorating mood near the end of the month, and the plethora of mums left on display were showing signs of the one freezing night we had had, as well as just being tired, past peak bloom.  I had stopped at the hardware store for a new bolt, and saw one of those 4 foot square palette boxes in the parking lot greenhouse overflowing with pots of mums.  I asked the manager if they were headed for the distributor for credit, or if they were headed for the dumpster.  He said they were dumpster bound if I wanted them, it would save them room. DEAL!  I loaded up all my truck could carry. These were huge, in 10 inch pots and were about 18 inches across and mounded, every color imaginable.  I placed them on the brick wall at home and let them go to seed, harvested seed and trimmed them down to 3 inches.  The dormant plants I placed in the workshop to keep cool and watered through the winter for regrowth next spring, and the trimmings went to the front ditch where, HOPEFULLY, they'll self seed me some plants. 

Lots and lots of baking goes on this time of year, but as we are trying to behave a little more, I've cut back on that.  I did manage to finally perfect my soft, fluffy, bakery style, 100% whole wheat cinnamon rolls. Yes, I know, cinnamon rolls aren't healthy, but 100% whole wheat makes them a little better, plus after we all had one, I individually wrapped the rest and froze them for later.  That way we didn't eat the whole pan over two days.

More time outside meant more photography and painting this month too.  I cleaned my studio desk out and found some missing inks, and a second gorgeous paintbox from The Little Brass Box Company This one is filled with more earth tones for landscapes.  Miss MoneyPenny , bos #007,is my first box and is filled with primary brights, and is suited for all around painting. The newest box is #1007 and has been dubbed My Precious. Just look at those color samples. ::Drool:: These boxes are individually, handmade in true croft style, by one man, out of brass in the UK.  They are the ultimate gift for the serious hobbyist or professional artist. They are a lifetime purchase and are heirloom quality. I can't say enough about these amazing paintboxes or the workmanship that goes into each and every one of them. (not paid to say this.)

Along the lines of art, kind of, I'll move onto the sewing room.  The new giant cutting table has been a God send. (remember she's from a church LOL)  Having a huge table that if fully covered in cutting mat, that is the right height and I can move all around to work has been amazing.  I'm still working on the body double sewing dummy from bootstrap, kind of.  I finished the first one, made from pique knit, and the measurements are correct, but even as low stretch as the knit is, it is too soft.  I don't feel like the padding is solid enough to dress the dummy and get any quality support out of it.  The bustline also didn't look right and the shoulder height certainly wasn't.  SO back to the drawing board.  I redrafted the pattern and sewed it all over again with cotton duck cloth.  The zero stretch of duckcloth will allow me to stuff the dummy and achieve the correct measurements for draping garments. (no photos yet)

 

I also completed several holiday gifts which, I'll show in December, after they're opened.  No spoilers. haha.

On a trip to the little thrift store I purchased two wool coats for $4 each. Yes, that says FOUR dollars.  They were on clearance as no one wanted them for the month they had been on display.  They were both from the 50s, Edinburgh. Both were pristine, inside and out, but the thread holding them together had dry rotted.  I brought them home and deconstructed them for their wool, which I have been making mittens from.  I couldn't let that vintage Scottish wool go to the dump!

With glorious weather I also took the opportunity to finally install a clothesline.  I've wanted one since we moved here. I just didn't know where to put it.  I finally remembered that my great-grandmother had hers right out the backdoor, running along the sidewalk to her garage.  Deal.  Good enough for her, good enough for me.  Two 4x4x4s, 4 bags of concrete, two deep holes, and some paint later and, tada!, it's a clothesline. 

Of course with a new clothesline, I needed a pin holder.  My mom had one that was made from a small hanger and a baby dress of mine that was stitched across the bottom, it still hangs in her laundry room, unused.  For lack of usable baby clothing, I made my own. BACK to the sewing studio. I traced the hanger for the top part of the bag, and drew straight down and made box corners at the bottom.  I also lined the bottom with a piece of stiff cardboard.  The hole was traced with a saucer, and simply sandwiched between some thin bias tape, top stitched. A fast and easy project. 

November critter report

Suzie is finally as up to speed as she'll ever be. Her back knees will always be weak, when she pulls on a leash or slips, she just sits down. The downside is that her months of lower, recovery activity put the pounds back on, even with being on prescription fat dog, dog food.  So now she's on the same food with no treats, and even tinier rations.  A beagle on a diet is such a joy, but she's getting the hang of it. And with the lovely weather, she and I have been able to take ridiculously long walks to both the state park to check to make the sure squirrels are still up all the trees, and to snort down every ground squirrel hole in our own pasture.

The hens are finally in full molt, but the weather is warm.  Usually they are naked and pin cushions and braving freezing temperatures.  Here is Delmar, sporting a partially grown in, partially falling out hairdo.

With the lake still in liquid form, the bald eagles are still here fishing.  Here is a lovely one above the house, looking down at the laundry, fresh on the line.

The cattle are due to leave at the end of the month, or maybe in December with this weather.  This years calves look great, even Butterscotch.  This was a great herd, no escapes, and they only knocked the electric fence down once, at the end of the month, when the urge for sweet green grass (mine) was stronger than the voltage from the fence.

As for the noodle necks, they're doing their thing.  They eat, sleep, dust bathe, fight, sleep, and keep us constantly entertained. Their fleece is now at the mill and should be back by February.  I love this unfiltered shot.  The red maple was fully in its late Autumn colors when we finally froze.  It lost all its crimson coat in one morning.  We hope you are all well. Thank you for visiting again. Until December (Just WAIT until you see what follows me home in December.)

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 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. 

As Hard And Fast As It Came, It Left

 Spring has sprung. 

The alpaca coats fresh from the laundry, airing on the deck.

The Cold snap lasted 22, long, hard, miserable days. It was physically demanding, and draining on the soul. The alpacas were tired of hunkering down in the barn, fully unwilling to go out into the chill. They preferred to sit and chew their cud, toes tucked under their warm and toasty bellies, their warm winter coats helping with the chill, on a deep bed of straw.  

The hens, we didn't loose anyone, seemed to ride it out just fine. There was little moisture in the air and they were safely out of the wind. We had no cases of frostbite in the coop this year. By the end of day 22, they were more than ready to get out of that coop and into a lovely 32 degree, sunny day.  When I finally open the door, a great tidal wave of feathers poured from the chicken run. They didn't seem the least bit disappointed that their was no green grass to eat, or bugs to chase. They were just happy for the change of scenery and to be able to stretch their legs. With great leaps and bounds, with flapping of wings and singing of song, they bounded across the snow covered barnyard before finally settling down and looking for things to eat.

The temperature slowly crept above the freezing mark, and before we knew it we were in the 40s, the 50s, the 60s, OH MY the 70s!  Even the people went from being unrecognizable masses, bundled under layers upon layers, to being half naked, soaking up every photon from the great orb in the sky and letting it soak deeply, and warmly in to pale skin.  We all broke out shorts and shirt sleeves at about 50 degrees.

This increased, and much needed warmth, was rejuvenating.  If you looked ever so closely in the matted, flattened, straw colored thatch, you could spot the tiniest speck of green. Baby clover leaves reaching out to see if it was safe to come out.   The increases warmth causing rivers of water which had been previously trapped in the snow pack. You could actually hear it running under the thatch, finding it's way downhill. The large 4 foot drifts and plowed piles that framed every road and every driveway, didn't stand a chance.   

The winds then came, as they do in March. In Nebraska, and especially on this hilltop, they aren't subtle either. They begin as a whisper, then a yell, their howling becomes screams and while it did a wonderful job melting the snow and drying the sod, the winds made it nearly impossible to enjoy time outside. Tree limbs snapped, causing power to go out. Luckily we keep water banked for the animals if we loose power (no power=no well pump=no water). We also keep water banked for us, coffee and tea must be available.

Then came the deluge. I was joking with a fellow meteorologist last week, that since we've moved here, the records have fallen left and right. I'm starting to take it personally- record snows, drought, hail, cold snaps, low temperatures, high temperatures, dew points, air pressures, moisture in a day or for a single storm. It's becoming ridiculous. 

I've been keeping my eyes open for a couple of days of slow rain so that I could apply some nitrogen fertilizer on the hay field.  I saw it coming and drove out to pick up 500 pounds of nitrogen and 500 pounds of moisture retainer product to spread in the problem drought areas of the hay field. I hooked the rake to the tractor and thatched the whole field, keeping an eye out for invasive cedar as I went. Then I spread the products with the new broadcast spreader. Six hours later and the hay field was clean and fed, and just waiting for the rain. I managed it 5 days before the storm. Then the track changed. Our models increased the totals with each and every run. But the time the rains ended, we had managed 7.47 inches over less than two days. I'm hoping it came down slow enough the first 4 hours to dissolve the nitrogen in the soil. Time will tell. I'll either have a lush hay field, or the greenest drainage ditch in the county.

I have the fertilizer for around the house proper, but besides the ground being a bit too soggy for the tractor, the rain coming up with be another 3 inch fall in 24 hours. So I'll wait for another day on that project.

Also in the land of pleading for Spring, the potting shed is open and sprouting seeds. So far I've started the marigolds, horse radish, onions, and one variety of tomato, a new variety, cloudy day.  Now that those have sprouted, I will start the San Marzano tomatoes.

Which leads me to the next major project ~A greenhouse~

I purchased a hoop type greenhouse that a man down the road has. He has 4 of them and used to own a commercial nursery. Now in his spare time he starts plants, and gives them away for donation, and also has the most amazing tomato patch. I swear it's the annual planting process that is keeping him going. He's a dear soul and has the touch for sure. His greenhouses are in the village and between the garage and house and have never budged from their spot. He said he's never had a lick of trouble with them. So I purchased the same one. 

I actually bought it last June, and put it away for this Spring. I picked a lovely 75 degree WINDLESS day to put it up. It snapped together in the blink of an eye, with heavy steel tubes with push-pin to lock, male and female ends. The cover looked heavy enough and slid right on. Following online suggestions, I did make a large, heavy, wooden frame to sit around the outside edge to hold down the apron. I used their supplied tie down cords, which were little more than poly baling twine and cheap, short tent stakes. First thing the next morning I went out and purchased 18 inch long industrial stakes and used paracord with taught-line knots to secure their covering. That was on Wednesday and Thursday. Friday the wind picked up, just a little. Saturday, the winds really picked up. At 30 mph, which is nothing for here, she was just fine. Sunday morning we were gusting to 37. On a walk with the dog, Doc noticed that the cover was ripped, the green house cover was floating above the frame like a kite. All of my tie downs and cord were secure, but their seams had ripped. I packed it up and returned it. 

I've wanted a real one for years, but other projects came up. We fell in love with one from Kansas at a garden show. But they're backed up in ordered for MONTHS. I could design my own and build it, but quite frankly boards and sacks of concrete are getting heavier and heavier as time goes by. I could have the shed company that has done other work for me design and build one for me, but they're backed up as well.

So I opted for a you assemble it kit from a local hardware store. As nowhere on this property is level, I'll be building a platform frame for the base and then install and secure it to that. I have high hopes and yet none at all. 

We shall see.