We hadn't heard the woodcock since I posted about him the other night so I figured that he had moved on. However, I heard a faint twitter when I was walking over from the barn tonight, once again as the last pink faded in the west. Soon a loud peent came from over by the horse pond. I wanted to walk up there, but I was pretty sure crashing through the brush with a flashlight would spook him, so I just stood in the driveway behind the car. The Interstate was loud, but I could hear the peent quire clearly Figured it would be hard to hear the sky dance, but danged if he didn't do a big circle right over my head. I have never heard one make such a huge circle, all the way from the pond to the heifer barn, which is on the other side of the house. It was great....worth waiting for my dinner of homemade soup to stand and listen.
Monday, April 02, 2007
Sunday, April 01, 2007
On Fiery Hill
From inside the house foundation
"White bronze" marker
And old marble stone
We made a trip to the abandoned farm where the boss's mom grew up. Nothing left but the foundation, a lot of brush, a few stones and some realtor's signs. Wish we were rich enough to gather up all these old farms and keep them safe.....
The cemetery is up the road a bit, and may have nothing to do with the farm, but it is very lovely. I especially like the zinc monument... I have been wanting to get up there since we finally got a digital camera to take pictures of it before something happens to it. (Although as it happens someone has done quite a bit of work cleaning up around the stones etc.)
**Photos by Alan
The cemetery is up the road a bit, and may have nothing to do with the farm, but it is very lovely. I especially like the zinc monument... I have been wanting to get up there since we finally got a digital camera to take pictures of it before something happens to it. (Although as it happens someone has done quite a bit of work cleaning up around the stones etc.)
**Photos by Alan
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Friday, March 30, 2007
Muskrat houses
Over on Route Twenty near Sharon Springs. They dwarf the tiny pond they occupy. Must be quite a sight when as many rats as it took to build 'em start swimming around and cutting cattails. The pond must churn like somebody was stirring it with a souped up Evinrude!
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Timberdoodle
Coming over from the barn last night, talking a bit to Alan, pleasantly tired, happy to be finished with chores... just past daylight...barely needed the flashlight. Suddenly something hurtled past my head on whistling wings, a speeding susurrus, silhouetted momentarily against the last orange glow in the west. Mourning dove, I thought, wow, she is out late.
Then, from the flat, grassy knoll up by the horse pasture pond it came....for the first time in at least fifteen years I heard a very special sound. The buzzy, rasping, nasal peent! of a male woodcock courting a mate. Ah, all became clear... the feathery bullet was his lady friend heading elsewhere in a heck of a hurry.
We have a dancer! Big news! I was thrilled. Indeed cold shivers ran up and down my arms. Alan made fun of me, saying that they (woodcocks, that is) are all over the back of the farm; all I have to do is walk out there to see one. However, he has never heard the dance and doesn't understand that watching one bomb through the bushes like a flying rocket or hearing one dance are not the same thing. Not the same at all.
It was too cold last night, I was too tired, it was too dark. But (if he stays) Alan and I will tiptoe up to the pond one night soon to watch and listen to the magical sky dance. If we are lucky, Mr. Timberdoodle will spiral skyward, then hurtle to earth piping the ethereal mating whistle that makes these fat, pointy-nosed little birds a ghostly springtime wonder. It is such a special thing that you almost feel guilty watching...like you were in some one else's church or something. Once he stands there in the darkness, hearing that other-worldly song, I think my boy will know what I mean about timberdoodles though.
I had never seen the sky dance and didn't know of it at all until I read A Sand County Almanac in college, having grabbed it off the college bookstore shelf because it had a pretty cover. (Now there was a life changing moment....all these years later and I still think of the things I read there, especially how chickadees come to folks who cut firewood...looking for insects. (They do btw.) You just never know when an important book will sort of jump off the shelf at you and change your way of looking at the world.)
Later someone important to me at that time in my life found a dancing ground across the road from my camp in Caroga Lake. We sat on the tail gate of my pick up truck in the driveway, every single clear night, swatting mosquitoes and watching the dance as the sun went down. I didn't have a TV then and didn't miss it either.
When I moved down here to the valley, there was another dancer who regularly performed on the heifer pasture flats behind the house. Then a few years ago he left for some reason and I never heard another until last night.
Now we have a possible avian thespian setting up stage out by the pond, which is already one of my favorite places on the farm.
I hope he stays.
Then, from the flat, grassy knoll up by the horse pasture pond it came....for the first time in at least fifteen years I heard a very special sound. The buzzy, rasping, nasal peent! of a male woodcock courting a mate. Ah, all became clear... the feathery bullet was his lady friend heading elsewhere in a heck of a hurry.
We have a dancer! Big news! I was thrilled. Indeed cold shivers ran up and down my arms. Alan made fun of me, saying that they (woodcocks, that is) are all over the back of the farm; all I have to do is walk out there to see one. However, he has never heard the dance and doesn't understand that watching one bomb through the bushes like a flying rocket or hearing one dance are not the same thing. Not the same at all.
It was too cold last night, I was too tired, it was too dark. But (if he stays) Alan and I will tiptoe up to the pond one night soon to watch and listen to the magical sky dance. If we are lucky, Mr. Timberdoodle will spiral skyward, then hurtle to earth piping the ethereal mating whistle that makes these fat, pointy-nosed little birds a ghostly springtime wonder. It is such a special thing that you almost feel guilty watching...like you were in some one else's church or something. Once he stands there in the darkness, hearing that other-worldly song, I think my boy will know what I mean about timberdoodles though.
I had never seen the sky dance and didn't know of it at all until I read A Sand County Almanac in college, having grabbed it off the college bookstore shelf because it had a pretty cover. (Now there was a life changing moment....all these years later and I still think of the things I read there, especially how chickadees come to folks who cut firewood...looking for insects. (They do btw.) You just never know when an important book will sort of jump off the shelf at you and change your way of looking at the world.)
Later someone important to me at that time in my life found a dancing ground across the road from my camp in Caroga Lake. We sat on the tail gate of my pick up truck in the driveway, every single clear night, swatting mosquitoes and watching the dance as the sun went down. I didn't have a TV then and didn't miss it either.
When I moved down here to the valley, there was another dancer who regularly performed on the heifer pasture flats behind the house. Then a few years ago he left for some reason and I never heard another until last night.
Now we have a possible avian thespian setting up stage out by the pond, which is already one of my favorite places on the farm.
I hope he stays.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Whoo hoo
Check this out! A very special person gave Becky a call tonight to let her know that Emerson Drive is expected to perform at Fonda Fair, right across the river from us. After what she went through last year upon finishing high school, including having the concert to which we bought her tickets for graduation canceled, this is pretty special. I know what we will be doing this August 31st, the good Lord willin' and the crick don't rise.
We are wondering if the guys actually read the letter Liz wrote them last year detailing Beck's big disappointment and asking them to think about either coming back to Northern Lights or playing the fair. We will probably never know, as they never answered the letter, but excitement reigns tonight anyhow.
We are wondering if the guys actually read the letter Liz wrote them last year detailing Beck's big disappointment and asking them to think about either coming back to Northern Lights or playing the fair. We will probably never know, as they never answered the letter, but excitement reigns tonight anyhow.
Monday, March 26, 2007
Growing lettuce indoors (part two)
This has worked out amazingly well. We have enjoyed lots of lettuce for sandwiches and small salads and it just keeps coming back no matter how much we pick. The boss makes amazing croûtons (really good in soup too, so I made some of that Saturday, with venison, homegrown ground beef and a little Italian sausage from our 2006 piggies) so with a little super sharp hunter's cheddar and some ranch dressing we are rich indeed.
Hmmm
Someone kindly nominated Northview for a blog of the day award and I just wanted to say thanks...so thanks.
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Worth reading
Turkish Dogs has a really well thought out post up just now, which details the agenda of the Humane Society of the United States and PeTA in a truly enlightening manner. You know, of course, that as far as those organizations are concerned we have no right to interact with animals unless they are starring in animated Disney drivel and we are paying to look them on the TV screen.
Janice has included some truly damning quotes inher post. You will be grinding your teeth, I'll tell you.
Janice has included some truly damning quotes inher post. You will be grinding your teeth, I'll tell you.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
567 Purebred cattle killed by bookkeeping
Just in case you think National Animal Identification is harmless read this story about a farmer in Great Britain whose records are alleged to be not quite up to snuff...so they killed all his cows on him.
Imagine half a million pounds worth of purebred dairy cattle butchered at a "secret location". Imagine not even paying the farmer for his loss. As in, hey buddy, you are out of business, too bad for you....all because of violations which have not been proved, and with no crime being charged. To me it is a signal to every livestock owner in the US, whether you own two back yard chickens or 10, 000 milk cows, to maintain your vigilance against NAIS. Don't let them pretend that it is voluntary and don't believe that it isn't going to hurt you.
Imagine half a million pounds worth of purebred dairy cattle butchered at a "secret location". Imagine not even paying the farmer for his loss. As in, hey buddy, you are out of business, too bad for you....all because of violations which have not been proved, and with no crime being charged. To me it is a signal to every livestock owner in the US, whether you own two back yard chickens or 10, 000 milk cows, to maintain your vigilance against NAIS. Don't let them pretend that it is voluntary and don't believe that it isn't going to hurt you.
Monday, March 19, 2007
Doctor Green
That is what a vet we used to have called the first green grass of spring. Sarpy Sam's photo of his beef cows casting out across his Montana pastures in search of a few new blades got me thinking about that. Here in the frozen (see photo below) Northeast, dairy cows spend most of the winter indoors. If they are outside too long when it is this cold their teats freeze. (A frostbitten udder is an ugly thing indeed.)
However, after several months of having every bite they eat carried to them (and all of it being stored feed), they need a chance to forage around and nibble on whatever tempts them. Green grass can make them sick if they get an excess in the spring, but they just love to have some.
We have to work hard sometimes to keep them eating through the challenging weeks after they have a calf. This period when their whole metabolism is changing from resting through their "dry period" vacation to working hard making milk is called transition. Sometimes the process goes awry and they stop eating. Cows that don't eat die. Unlike humans who can go weeks without food, a cow had better be eating or chewing her cud almost all the time or you need to start worrying. Sometimes when one is just a little backward, something tasty will make her forget her woes and begin to eat again without being doctored on. There is nothing more tempting to a winter-sour cow than a handful of green grass. Even when it is too muddy to let them out, as soon as the first green spears show up west of the machinery shed, the kids and I go pick some and hand feed it to our pets. Or any cow that is a little off feed....or anybody with a long tongue and a soulful expression. You should see them bang their stanchions up and down when they catch the scent of someone with a pail of grass. It is cupboard love in its finest form. Most of us cringe when we see the doctor coming, but for cows when it is Doctor Green they come a runnin'.
However, after several months of having every bite they eat carried to them (and all of it being stored feed), they need a chance to forage around and nibble on whatever tempts them. Green grass can make them sick if they get an excess in the spring, but they just love to have some.
We have to work hard sometimes to keep them eating through the challenging weeks after they have a calf. This period when their whole metabolism is changing from resting through their "dry period" vacation to working hard making milk is called transition. Sometimes the process goes awry and they stop eating. Cows that don't eat die. Unlike humans who can go weeks without food, a cow had better be eating or chewing her cud almost all the time or you need to start worrying. Sometimes when one is just a little backward, something tasty will make her forget her woes and begin to eat again without being doctored on. There is nothing more tempting to a winter-sour cow than a handful of green grass. Even when it is too muddy to let them out, as soon as the first green spears show up west of the machinery shed, the kids and I go pick some and hand feed it to our pets. Or any cow that is a little off feed....or anybody with a long tongue and a soulful expression. You should see them bang their stanchions up and down when they catch the scent of someone with a pail of grass. It is cupboard love in its finest form. Most of us cringe when we see the doctor coming, but for cows when it is Doctor Green they come a runnin'.
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Movin' On
*Grackle trying to use the tube feeder*Anyhow, while I waited the 2.25 minutes that I nuke the water for my all-important Tasters Choice, I looked out the window over the kitchen sink at the heifer pasture hill. You never know what you might see out there, from turkeys, deer and squirrels to those big black half dog/half coyote things that got the neighbor's pony. Today there were blackbirds flying past, a little above treetop level, just about over the north side fence. The flock undulated, wave-like, as they went, maybe seventy or eighty birds in sight at any one time.
They flew...and flew..and flew...the whole time the water heated, all the time it took me to put in the coffee, sugar, and milk. All the time it took me to tug on two pairs of gloves, slip outside and get all the way to the cow barnyard without spilling any. It had to be at least five minutes worth of grackle, red-winged black bird and probably some brown-headed cow birds. At the same time starlings shuttled back and forth, blue jays flashed by and a few geese sounded their distant hound dog cries. I'll bet there were a thousand stretched birds across the roughly half a mile that makes up our road frontage.
There may be snow on the ground and ice on the river, but the ones who arrive first gets the prettiest mates and the fanciest nesting sites. The birds aren't waiting for the weather; they are migrating and they are doing it NOW.
Friday, March 16, 2007
The things you learn
***1453: Coffee is introduced to Constantinople by Ottoman Turks. The world's first coffee shop, Kiva Han, open there in 1475. Turkish law makes it legal for a woman to divorce her husband if he fails to provide her with her daily quota of coffee.***
I have been gently (and intermittently) enjoying the Outlander series of books for some months now. I read perhaps a chapter or two each day, with a marathon every Sunday afternoon. (On a normal non-Outlander Sunday, I polish off at least two books, but these are really, really BIG). They are vastly entertaining and thought-provoking too and I like 'em.
A lot. I am most grateful to find an author I enjoy who has written a plenitude of material because I am always running out of book before I run out of interest. These books are teaching me a great deal, as one part or another sends me searching the Internet to find more details on dozens of topics. (I also dream of Jamie and Claire as if they were friends or family members...not sure what that is all about, but I don't mind it.)
Reading about the American colonists in such detail fired up my curiosity about just how coffee found its way around the world. (After all, since it is such good stuff; we should surely comprehend its origins). This timeline tells the tale pretty well.
***The above quote should serve as a warning to husbands even if they don't come from Turkey. Don't mess with the lady and her coffee! (Or get between her and a good book!)
I have been gently (and intermittently) enjoying the Outlander series of books for some months now. I read perhaps a chapter or two each day, with a marathon every Sunday afternoon. (On a normal non-Outlander Sunday, I polish off at least two books, but these are really, really BIG). They are vastly entertaining and thought-provoking too and I like 'em.
A lot. I am most grateful to find an author I enjoy who has written a plenitude of material because I am always running out of book before I run out of interest. These books are teaching me a great deal, as one part or another sends me searching the Internet to find more details on dozens of topics. (I also dream of Jamie and Claire as if they were friends or family members...not sure what that is all about, but I don't mind it.)
Reading about the American colonists in such detail fired up my curiosity about just how coffee found its way around the world. (After all, since it is such good stuff; we should surely comprehend its origins). This timeline tells the tale pretty well.
***The above quote should serve as a warning to husbands even if they don't come from Turkey. Don't mess with the lady and her coffee! (Or get between her and a good book!)
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Chicken dinner with a side of cow stomachs
*There be mountains*
*Even if they are kind of small*
*A pretty red train that was parked along the road*
*Beaver house on Route 7 near Oneonta*
*Photos by Alan*
Therefore yesterday Alan, Becky and I did a bit of gallivanting. We headed off to Oneonta after chores in search of the elusive Brook's Barbecue chicken dinner. As it happened that is just what was being served at a farm information meeting presented by the company from which we purchase our cow grain, Pennfield Animal Feeds. Since this week's Farm Side is going to be about said meeting I won't spoil it for local folks by telling you all about it. However, it was a pretty trip as you can see from Alan's photographs. We sang all the way down and all the way back. With Alan's steady (not to mention on key) bass to help us along, even Becky and I could get by. We actually discussed the possibility of just driving right on by and singing some more, but the lure of that wily chicken was just too strong. We gave in.
At the dinner we learned important facts about raising calves, including all sorts of stuff about esophageal grooves, abomasums, reticulums, rumens and rabies. I also won door prize of a nice hat and Alan won a tote full of goodies and tools. He traded me the tote for my hat, shared the cookies and crackers with everyone, and snagged the ruler and work gloves right quickly (before some a certain nameless individual could get HIS hands on them).
It was a valuable meeting especially in that the program information could be used by small farmers like us, even though it applied to just about any size farm. All too often we may learn something new at a farm meeting, but it is something almost impossible, or at least totally impractical, to implement on a fifty-cow dairy. I was grateful to bring home information on raising babies that I could put into practice this very morning, rather than talking about it while milking, then letting it fade from my memory because it was a thousand miles out of reach for little old Northview.
I have to thank the geese for the inspiration and Pennfield for prime poultry and super schooling. I had a real nice time!
Ironic indeed
I'm sorry, but this just makes me shake my head in wonder...
"A North Pole expedition meant to bring attention to global warming was called off after one of the explorers got frostbite."
Am I missing something here?
"Then there was the cold - quite a bit colder, Atwood said, then Bancroft and Arnesen had expected. One night they measured the temperature inside their tent at 58 degrees below zero, and outside temperatures were exceeding 100 below zero at times, Atwood said."
"A North Pole expedition meant to bring attention to global warming was called off after one of the explorers got frostbite."
Am I missing something here?
"Then there was the cold - quite a bit colder, Atwood said, then Bancroft and Arnesen had expected. One night they measured the temperature inside their tent at 58 degrees below zero, and outside temperatures were exceeding 100 below zero at times, Atwood said."
Mackey wins
Come Back Kennels came back in a big way as Lance Mackey won the 2007 Iditarod and became the first musher ever to win back to back Yukon Quest and Iditarod sled dog races.
Jeff King, my own favorite musher, had class enough to cheer Mackey on when it became clear that he himself was out of the running. Jeff is running in fifth place right now. Zack Steer, who will likely come in third is in Safety.
***I see by reading his profile that I should be including Paul Gebhardt, this year's second place musher, in my list of favorites....he grew up on a Minnesota dairy farm, which makes him A-okay in my book!
Jeff King, my own favorite musher, had class enough to cheer Mackey on when it became clear that he himself was out of the running. Jeff is running in fifth place right now. Zack Steer, who will likely come in third is in Safety.
***I see by reading his profile that I should be including Paul Gebhardt, this year's second place musher, in my list of favorites....he grew up on a Minnesota dairy farm, which makes him A-okay in my book!
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
What a dog race..Iditarod 2007
Day 10. As the leaders pass towns and check points with names like Shaktoolik and Unalakleet, this years race has turned into a dash for Nome with several top racers within a few hours of one another. Right now Lance Mackey has a decent lead, but Paul Gebhart is making him work for it. Martin Buser, Jeff King, and Zack Steer round out the top five. Other high caliber mushers are also within striking distance.
Mackey has an interesting thing going with the fact that he is running the race for the sixth time wearing bib number 13. His father and brother both won it under those circumstances and it looks like those numbers might be the charm for him too.
Mackey has an interesting thing going with the fact that he is running the race for the sixth time wearing bib number 13. His father and brother both won it under those circumstances and it looks like those numbers might be the charm for him too.
Monday, March 12, 2007
Propane explosion and train derailment
Big news in Upstate New York. I haven't seen a train all day so I guess the tracks are still closed. They were this morning anyhow. It is so quiet with no rumble grumble across the river every few minutes.
Oops
If I have missed replying to your comments, or answering emails from a couple of you who are my favorite folks, it is because I somehow changed the filters on my main mail box. Kind of an "oh, duh", moment. I think I have it fixed now, but if you are fuming and wondering why I am so rude, well, now you know. Nothing to do with rude, but everything to do with clutzy. Or idiotic. Or careless. Or a doofus. You get the idea.
Sorry.... if you have emailed me in the past few days and didn't get an answer I humbly apologize, but you are going to have to resend because they are just gone...
Sorry.... if you have emailed me in the past few days and didn't get an answer I humbly apologize, but you are going to have to resend because they are just gone...
Sunday, March 11, 2007
More possibilities
You might be a dairyman if....
(These are a little more graphic than the last set).
Still an awful lot of them apply to me.
Number one: is a big waste of time. You do it AFTER work
Number two: Yep, haven't we all? Nails too. Fence pliers, nitrile gloves....I could go on and on
Three: And Sunday
Four: No accident about it
Five: And dinner
Seven: And worse things
Eight: It's "have drunk". (Where do these kids go to school anyhow?)
Nine: Some are tougher than others. What farmer hasn't seen a perfectly healthy cow with "I am dead, aren't I?" syndrome? Or maybe it is "I have fallen and I can't get up."
Ten: Shirts too
Eleven: Right up there with baling twine
Twelve: They are aren't they?
Thirteen: No, it is "close enough for government work" around here.
Fourteen: Fluffy reindeer bathrobe actually. It is warmer than jammies and covers a multitude of sins
Fifteen:Nope
Sixteen: Yup, and more than once
Seventeen:Yes that too
Eighteen: Uh, huh,
Nineteen and twenty: some cows are smart as rocks and have a death wish too. From getting loose and falling upside down with their head pinned under them in the manger to getting wedged upside down in the watering trough I have seen more than I want to.
Twenty-one: Actually I love the stuff
Twenty-two: Both, not at the same time
Twenty-three: Actually not
Twenty-four and twenty-five: When the boss had emergency surgery and I was all alone I could lie down on a bale of hay and sleep as long as no one bothered me
Twenty-six: All my life in fact
Twenty-seven: Well, you get the idea. I have never tried to back up a spreader, because that is not one of my jobs, but I can back up a forage chopper and hook up wagons (it took me a very, very long time to learn though). Fairs used to be a lot more fun than they are now. Too old and tired I guess. And I have no problem whatsoever figuring out what to do with a day off. It's finding them that is a problem.
(These are a little more graphic than the last set).
Still an awful lot of them apply to me.
Number one: is a big waste of time. You do it AFTER work
Number two: Yep, haven't we all? Nails too. Fence pliers, nitrile gloves....I could go on and on
Three: And Sunday
Four: No accident about it
Five: And dinner
Seven: And worse things
Eight: It's "have drunk". (Where do these kids go to school anyhow?)
Nine: Some are tougher than others. What farmer hasn't seen a perfectly healthy cow with "I am dead, aren't I?" syndrome? Or maybe it is "I have fallen and I can't get up."
Ten: Shirts too
Eleven: Right up there with baling twine
Twelve: They are aren't they?
Thirteen: No, it is "close enough for government work" around here.
Fourteen: Fluffy reindeer bathrobe actually. It is warmer than jammies and covers a multitude of sins
Fifteen:Nope
Sixteen: Yup, and more than once
Seventeen:Yes that too
Eighteen: Uh, huh,
Nineteen and twenty: some cows are smart as rocks and have a death wish too. From getting loose and falling upside down with their head pinned under them in the manger to getting wedged upside down in the watering trough I have seen more than I want to.
Twenty-one: Actually I love the stuff
Twenty-two: Both, not at the same time
Twenty-three: Actually not
Twenty-four and twenty-five: When the boss had emergency surgery and I was all alone I could lie down on a bale of hay and sleep as long as no one bothered me
Twenty-six: All my life in fact
Twenty-seven: Well, you get the idea. I have never tried to back up a spreader, because that is not one of my jobs, but I can back up a forage chopper and hook up wagons (it took me a very, very long time to learn though). Fairs used to be a lot more fun than they are now. Too old and tired I guess. And I have no problem whatsoever figuring out what to do with a day off. It's finding them that is a problem.
Saturday, March 10, 2007
John Deere Day
At KC Canary in Fultonville. It was so busy all day this was the only time I could take a picture that the booth wasn't full of people!
Friday, March 09, 2007
Do as I say, not as I do
Here is a good editorial by Steven Malloy about Al Gore's hypocritical views on using energy...which are that because he is rich he can use all he wants, but the rest of us should tighten our belts and ride our bikes.
"While Gore relaxes in his posh pool house and heated pool, you should be taking shorter and colder showers, and hanging your laundry outside to dry. As Gore jets around the world in first-class comfort to hob-nob with society’s elites about his self-declared “moral imperative”, you should travel less and bike to work. You should use less electricity while Al and his wife, Tipper, use 20 times the national average. Now that’s a real carbon offset."
I already hang my laundry outside to dry, heat with wood, (which is pretty darned renewable), and drive as little as possible. However, I am not willing to give a pass on pollution to countries like China or India and $300 men like Gore.
"While Gore relaxes in his posh pool house and heated pool, you should be taking shorter and colder showers, and hanging your laundry outside to dry. As Gore jets around the world in first-class comfort to hob-nob with society’s elites about his self-declared “moral imperative”, you should travel less and bike to work. You should use less electricity while Al and his wife, Tipper, use 20 times the national average. Now that’s a real carbon offset."
I already hang my laundry outside to dry, heat with wood, (which is pretty darned renewable), and drive as little as possible. However, I am not willing to give a pass on pollution to countries like China or India and $300 men like Gore.
Thursday, March 08, 2007
Dean's List
Both girls got notices yesterday that they made it last semester. It was Becky's first semester of college and I think the fifth for Liz. She has made it every semester.
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Jonrowe and Swingley scratch from Iditarod Race
Both 53-year old Doug Swingley and Dee Dee Jonrowe, same age, have scratched their teams from this year's race. Swingley is said to have possibly broken some ribs and dislocated his thumb in an accident. Jonrowe broke at least one finger in a fall and may have further damage to her hand. It is a shame to see these two respected veterans forced to stop, but I am in awe that they can run at all. I only have one year on them and I am sure not up for running over a thousand miles in weather colder even than it is here (and trust me, it is plenty cold. The transmission on the work truck is frozen, making it impossible to get any hay).
Here is the official site for the race. Here is Susan Butcher's family website, which supports the families and children of cancer patients.
Here is the official site for the race. Here is Susan Butcher's family website, which supports the families and children of cancer patients.
That pesky global warming
Stop by Northview Dairy Farm this week and enjoy our forecast: from Channel 10...
Today will feature partly to mostly sunny skies and afternoon temperatures will struggle to rise to between 5 and 10 for the area. This would be a RECORD LOW MAX temperature for the date which is 15 dating back to 1901. On Wednesday...a weak storm will track to our south. This will increase the clouds and there could be a few flurries, especially south of Albany. When this goes by, another blast of Arctic Air arrives for Thursday !
We may set another record low max temperature on Thursday and possibly a record low temperature Thursday night/Friday morning.
Today will feature partly to mostly sunny skies and afternoon temperatures will struggle to rise to between 5 and 10 for the area. This would be a RECORD LOW MAX temperature for the date which is 15 dating back to 1901. On Wednesday...a weak storm will track to our south. This will increase the clouds and there could be a few flurries, especially south of Albany. When this goes by, another blast of Arctic Air arrives for Thursday !
We may set another record low max temperature on Thursday and possibly a record low temperature Thursday night/Friday morning.
Monday, March 05, 2007
Guest post
This was written by our esteemed veterinarian here at Northview and is something folks really should be aware of....
Beware, American Consumers!
I am writing to inform the unwitting American consumer, that they are being duped and defrauded by the Retailers of America, of which, Price Chopper has just joined the ranks. There is a rapidly growing movement to sell milk by large processors and retailers (Wal-Mart, Dean Foods, Price Chopper, etc.) at a higher price to the consumer by calling it "rBST-free", or "artificial hormone free” milk. BST (Bovine Somatotropin) is a naturally occurring hormone produced by all cows in response to lactation. All milk has the same amount of BST in it, whether or not cows are injected with rBST (Posilac). So the milk that is labeled as being different and sold at a premium is no different.
rBST (recombinant Bovine Somatotropin) is a FDA-approved supplement, that about 20-30% of our Dairy Farmers use to help cows produce more milk. It is one of the most heavily researched and studied drugs to ever be approved for use in Animal Agriculture, and has been in use for over 12 years. It is simply a tool that helps dairy farmers make a living.
Aside from the baseless fear marketing to the consumers, what is the most troubling about this trend towards “rBST- free” milk is that it is occurring at a time when farmers are enduring the worst prices they have ever seen. They are receiving the same for their milk that they received in the 1970's and 80's, yet we all know how much more fuel, electric, and other inputs cost today. Under current market conditions, not a single dairy farmer is making a profit milking cows.
To add insult to injury, they are being coerced into giving up a safe, approved technology, without adequate and fair compensation. The only people profiting from “rBST-free” milk are the processors and retailers. It is very troubling to me that the labels are illegal and misleading, according to the Food and Drug Administration, which is not enforcing its own labeling laws. So please don=t be mislead. All Milk is Milk. Whether it is produced Organically, or non-Organically, with r-BST or without. It has the same composition. It is all antibiotic free. It all has hormones in it. Milk is Milk.
The only way to stop this movement of selling milk through fear tactics is to not buy it. Buy regular milk; the same milk you have been buying forever. Don't spend your hard earned money on a marketing ploy, that is illegal and misleading, and driving dairy farmers out of business. Our farmers are the most efficient food producers in the world. We need to support them and appreciate them, or we will some day be as dependent on foreign food as we are on foreign oil.
Kris Harshman, DVM
Dairy Veterinarian since 1985
Sunday, March 04, 2007
Iditarod Starts
My favorite sporting event of the year and the last great race has begun in Anchorage, Alaska.
82 teams, 1000 dogs, what could be more exciting? It kicked off yesterday with the ceremonial start downtown and will continue for over a thousand miles over frozen snow, hard bare ground and some of the roughest conditions on earth. To the winner $69,000 and a truck. to everyone, even those of us who follow from afar, a huge dose of pioneer-style adventure and excitement.
For the best coverage I have found visit Cabela's Iditarod site.
Jeff King is always a favorite of mine, but it is easy to get behind almost anyone brave and determined enough to get behind a team of dogs and head out into the wilderness. Included among them is the husband of the late Susan Butcher and their daughter, Tekla, who will ride the trail later this season in her honor.
There is much excitement over this year's event, as there is the potential for another five time winner if any of several mushers including King and Martin Buser or Doug Swingley should win.
82 teams, 1000 dogs, what could be more exciting? It kicked off yesterday with the ceremonial start downtown and will continue for over a thousand miles over frozen snow, hard bare ground and some of the roughest conditions on earth. To the winner $69,000 and a truck. to everyone, even those of us who follow from afar, a huge dose of pioneer-style adventure and excitement.
For the best coverage I have found visit Cabela's Iditarod site.
Jeff King is always a favorite of mine, but it is easy to get behind almost anyone brave and determined enough to get behind a team of dogs and head out into the wilderness. Included among them is the husband of the late Susan Butcher and their daughter, Tekla, who will ride the trail later this season in her honor.
There is much excitement over this year's event, as there is the potential for another five time winner if any of several mushers including King and Martin Buser or Doug Swingley should win.
Saturday, March 03, 2007
A boy and his cow(ch)
Alan and his show cow, Bayberry, who is used to kids using her as a portable seat.
Birdy Weather Watching
This time of year it is hard to get away from the topic of weather. We have had it all in the past four or five days, snow, sleet, freezing rain, fog and warm sunny days that feel like April (I vote for more of those). This morning it is foggy with the ground covered with a cast iron coating of yesterday's ice. I will be glad when the walk to and from the barn is done, as it is a real challenge to get over there and back.
Weird things have been going on with my garden pond. I ran a stock tank heater on it during the worst of the cold (it is, after all, a stock tank.) The other day there was a huge opening in the ice, right down to the bottom with no water showing. I figured that the ice had cracked it and let the water out and I was going to be missing a lot of fish and plants. Then yesterday's rain filled it right back up again. I simply don't understand what is going on out there, but I sure hope the fish and green frogs that are spending the winter there are all right. I filled and cleaned the twenty gallon fish tank in the living room anyhow, just in case I see some fish, and can bring them in.
The birds make being outside enjoyable just the same. Last night, as the almost full moon ascended behind the old horse pasture, a couple of dozen ducks swirled in front of it before pitching down toward the river. As I turned to walk away one last one raced across it, a speeding black silhouette on its cold white face. All I need was a camera and fast reflexes. Didn't have either though.
Chickadees are singing their spring call, DEE, dee, dee, and taking no prisoners at the feeders. Normally they wait their turn, what with being the tiniest of the visitors, but now they charge in to grab seeds as if they were overnight blue jays on a tear. They blow through the gold finches like a hot breeze and the bushes ring with them. I think the tame pair is still around as a couple of them fly right up to me, bitching and begging if the feeders are bare.
Cardinals are in ready-for-spring mode as well, whistling from all over. We have quite a flock this year and they make a lot of music. Even the starlings sound like water over stones as they chortle from the eaves of the heifer barn.
One of the colder days when updrafts were few, a resident red-tailed hawk landed about two feet above the ground in a bush just outside the living room windows. The hunting is probably good out there in the overgrown pasture and he stayed quite a time, while we admired his massive, feathery self. Then he soared off looking as big as an eagle against the brown and white of snow and dried golden rod.
Even though it is easy to find beauty in this ice-bound season I am eager for spring. Everything is just too cold and hard right now. Snow is six feet deep in all the farm roads, with ice a couple of inches thick on top of it. Nothing we own will move it or negotiate it, so you can't get anything done without a huge hassle. The men are piling manure, can't get out to the woodlot, can't safely navigate the driveways even with four wheel drive, working is just plain lousy on an all day, every day basis.
Please send me a warm day, mud and all, if you have one to spare; I am half past ready.....
Weird things have been going on with my garden pond. I ran a stock tank heater on it during the worst of the cold (it is, after all, a stock tank.) The other day there was a huge opening in the ice, right down to the bottom with no water showing. I figured that the ice had cracked it and let the water out and I was going to be missing a lot of fish and plants. Then yesterday's rain filled it right back up again. I simply don't understand what is going on out there, but I sure hope the fish and green frogs that are spending the winter there are all right. I filled and cleaned the twenty gallon fish tank in the living room anyhow, just in case I see some fish, and can bring them in.
The birds make being outside enjoyable just the same. Last night, as the almost full moon ascended behind the old horse pasture, a couple of dozen ducks swirled in front of it before pitching down toward the river. As I turned to walk away one last one raced across it, a speeding black silhouette on its cold white face. All I need was a camera and fast reflexes. Didn't have either though.
Chickadees are singing their spring call, DEE, dee, dee, and taking no prisoners at the feeders. Normally they wait their turn, what with being the tiniest of the visitors, but now they charge in to grab seeds as if they were overnight blue jays on a tear. They blow through the gold finches like a hot breeze and the bushes ring with them. I think the tame pair is still around as a couple of them fly right up to me, bitching and begging if the feeders are bare.
Cardinals are in ready-for-spring mode as well, whistling from all over. We have quite a flock this year and they make a lot of music. Even the starlings sound like water over stones as they chortle from the eaves of the heifer barn.
One of the colder days when updrafts were few, a resident red-tailed hawk landed about two feet above the ground in a bush just outside the living room windows. The hunting is probably good out there in the overgrown pasture and he stayed quite a time, while we admired his massive, feathery self. Then he soared off looking as big as an eagle against the brown and white of snow and dried golden rod.
Even though it is easy to find beauty in this ice-bound season I am eager for spring. Everything is just too cold and hard right now. Snow is six feet deep in all the farm roads, with ice a couple of inches thick on top of it. Nothing we own will move it or negotiate it, so you can't get anything done without a huge hassle. The men are piling manure, can't get out to the woodlot, can't safely navigate the driveways even with four wheel drive, working is just plain lousy on an all day, every day basis.
Please send me a warm day, mud and all, if you have one to spare; I am half past ready.....
Thursday, March 01, 2007
BOOKS
BOOKS is the kind of blog that can make you proud.
BuckinJunction is too.
***Update: One of the authors of these two blogs pointed out rather sharply to me that they are NOT written by my sisters, as I actually have none of those. Rather these are the work of my two older female children. Thus the new labels....
BuckinJunction is too.
***Update: One of the authors of these two blogs pointed out rather sharply to me that they are NOT written by my sisters, as I actually have none of those. Rather these are the work of my two older female children. Thus the new labels....
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Two outrageous stories
Illegal steroids, some of them sold to high school coaches....just a few miles from here! The figures offered by authorities say that ten million dollars worth were sold in New York State and "at least $250,000 in illegal and controlled substances were sold directly into Albany County."
Officials claim that they are not going to name the "patients" who were buying these substances. I am thinking that if college and high school coaches were buying them for their players, parents should know who they were. I know I would want to.
And Bonny Prince Charlie is railing against Mickie D's foods, which would be just fine if he didn't run a huge organic food company, which he promotes relentlessly. Right now he looks to me like he is just trying to hobble the competition. I am not a big fan of fast food, but ulterior motives aren't my favorite either.
Officials claim that they are not going to name the "patients" who were buying these substances. I am thinking that if college and high school coaches were buying them for their players, parents should know who they were. I know I would want to.
And Bonny Prince Charlie is railing against Mickie D's foods, which would be just fine if he didn't run a huge organic food company, which he promotes relentlessly. Right now he looks to me like he is just trying to hobble the competition. I am not a big fan of fast food, but ulterior motives aren't my favorite either.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Why blue?
A recent comment asked why the ice in the previous post is blue. We have always figured it was because it picks up minerals as it flows through the ground on its way down the hill. This road cut is along the highway at the front of our property and the water that flows out of it comes from under a maple woods where a fellow we know taps our maple trees for maple syrup (and gives us a couple of gallons each year for the privilege.) Above that woods is a good alfalfa field on fertile slate ground, some of the best we have. The low quality of forages in NY in the past couple of ridiculously rainy years attests to just how many nutrients are leached by excess water. Why wouldn't that make the ice look different?
Just to be sure we were correct in our assumption, I did some research on blue ice. (Did you know that there is software with that name, and rappers as well. I sorted through a mountain of dreck before I came up with anything remotely useful.) I found lovely pictures of ice. Then I found this, which really doesn't seem to explain our ice, since there are sections that are just as thick adjacent to the blue ice that are plain white. And this, which shows black ice. Here are more links about ice color. I guess you can take your pick of theories.
I am still inclined to think ours comes from minerals, as the blue occurs right next to plenty of plain old white and some that is just sort of dirt-colored, probably from dirt. Anyhow....
Thanks, Laurie, for an interesting question.
Just to be sure we were correct in our assumption, I did some research on blue ice. (Did you know that there is software with that name, and rappers as well. I sorted through a mountain of dreck before I came up with anything remotely useful.) I found lovely pictures of ice. Then I found this, which really doesn't seem to explain our ice, since there are sections that are just as thick adjacent to the blue ice that are plain white. And this, which shows black ice. Here are more links about ice color. I guess you can take your pick of theories.
I am still inclined to think ours comes from minerals, as the blue occurs right next to plenty of plain old white and some that is just sort of dirt-colored, probably from dirt. Anyhow....
Thanks, Laurie, for an interesting question.
Monday, February 26, 2007
Blue ice
We took a quick trip up to the western end of the county today to buy bird seed, rabbit pellets, twenty-seven bucks worth of bread (parents of teen-aged boys will understand this purchase) cow medicines and two pints of this.
Upon arriving home we stopped in front of our maple woods to take a picture of the blue ice on the road cut there. It forms about this time every year and I find it just plain beautiful. Most years we see some snow rollers at about the same time, but none are in evidence yet. Still we had two pair of bluebirds in the driveway the other day so spring must be getting closer. On the other side of the equation, we also saw a trio of horned larks up in Glen and they are surely birds of winter. I can't wait until the days warm up just a bit and maple sugaring begins. Then you know for sure there is a change in the season coming.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Swan song in the Mohawk River
And a trip to the New York Farm Show....we hurried through chores this morning so we could go to the Farm Show. Although it is a long drive and the weather wasn't the greatest, we had a really nice time there. Some of the best sights were along the way though, including a pair of swans opposite the Roadway Truck Stop right here at home and some wild, snowy, trees on Little Nose Mountain. The boss took the swan photo, as he had to cross the highway to get it and frankly I was chicken.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
God bless pet heifers***
***(And a pox on men who leave gates open)…
I was peacefully comparing prices today, trying to figure out whether it would behoove me to change to Road Runner and digital phone, eschewing the frustrations of dial-up and AT&T, for just about eleven dollars extra a month. I had a really helpful salesperson on the phone and was about to make a deal, when three heifers caromed off the snow banks by the garden pond and headed down the hill.
I looked over toward the barn and, sure enough, the guys had finished up feeding, gone on to the next chore, and left the gate open. Muttering words that would melt the computer if I typed them, I quickly excused myself from wheeler-dealing and raced out of the house in my soft, worn, leather house loafers. (The low ones that an inch of snow will fill in an instant. Trust me, we have a bit more than an inch.)
The heifers were more than halfway down the driveway by the time I got to the front yard with a bucket and some chicken feed pellets, which is what was handy on the porch. They were also between me and the state highway and the Interstate and closer to the latter than to me...down to the last curve and actually almost out of sight of the house, maybe five car lengths from the highway.
What do you do in a situation like that? There was no way I could get ahead of them to stop them from going into the road. If I went farther down the drive, they would be likely to run away just for the fun of it, and get there sooner rather than later. A bad situation.
So, I did what any self-respecting cow spoiler would do and called them. The odds of them coming, having never been called in for feed or anything before were slim, but I was plumb out of choices. I hollered, “E….come on baby, co boss, co E,” and rattled my pail of chicken feed.
And (thank God for his eternal goodness), my pet heifer, E Train, threw up her head and galloped back up the hill to me, a goodly tenth of a mile. She didn't really want the chicken feed but she followed me to the fork in the driveway anyhow, head in the bucket, with her runaway buddies in tow. There I managed to get behind them, and with a few side trips to leap through five-foot snowdrifts and sniff cats, they went back to the cow barnyard where they belong. I am more than slightly grateful that they didn’t get down on the road and cause an accident, and more then ever glad of E.
I was peacefully comparing prices today, trying to figure out whether it would behoove me to change to Road Runner and digital phone, eschewing the frustrations of dial-up and AT&T, for just about eleven dollars extra a month. I had a really helpful salesperson on the phone and was about to make a deal, when three heifers caromed off the snow banks by the garden pond and headed down the hill.
I looked over toward the barn and, sure enough, the guys had finished up feeding, gone on to the next chore, and left the gate open. Muttering words that would melt the computer if I typed them, I quickly excused myself from wheeler-dealing and raced out of the house in my soft, worn, leather house loafers. (The low ones that an inch of snow will fill in an instant. Trust me, we have a bit more than an inch.)
The heifers were more than halfway down the driveway by the time I got to the front yard with a bucket and some chicken feed pellets, which is what was handy on the porch. They were also between me and the state highway and the Interstate and closer to the latter than to me...down to the last curve and actually almost out of sight of the house, maybe five car lengths from the highway.
What do you do in a situation like that? There was no way I could get ahead of them to stop them from going into the road. If I went farther down the drive, they would be likely to run away just for the fun of it, and get there sooner rather than later. A bad situation.
So, I did what any self-respecting cow spoiler would do and called them. The odds of them coming, having never been called in for feed or anything before were slim, but I was plumb out of choices. I hollered, “E….come on baby, co boss, co E,” and rattled my pail of chicken feed.
And (thank God for his eternal goodness), my pet heifer, E Train, threw up her head and galloped back up the hill to me, a goodly tenth of a mile. She didn't really want the chicken feed but she followed me to the fork in the driveway anyhow, head in the bucket, with her runaway buddies in tow. There I managed to get behind them, and with a few side trips to leap through five-foot snowdrifts and sniff cats, they went back to the cow barnyard where they belong. I am more than slightly grateful that they didn’t get down on the road and cause an accident, and more then ever glad of E.
Sustainable (NOT) development and a great dog rescue
Here is a story about what activist organizations are doing to deprive citizens of not-so-wealthy nations of economic development, and how they are going about it.
And anopther one about the dog who who was the silent heroine of the Mt. Hood Rescue this week.
***We are in the process of attempting to find a car that will negotiate the driveway from Hell in three feet of snow but is small enough to be comfortable for not-so-tall me to drive, as my minivan, although willing to go almost anywhere, is no longer able to do so in a straight line or to stop upon arrival. And then there is the pair of bull calves we have to sell, all the major repair work that has been waiting for Alan to have a week off from school so there are two men for the various jobs...and all that stuff...so I may not have much to say for a day or so. Sorry.
And anopther one about the dog who who was the silent heroine of the Mt. Hood Rescue this week.
***We are in the process of attempting to find a car that will negotiate the driveway from Hell in three feet of snow but is small enough to be comfortable for not-so-tall me to drive, as my minivan, although willing to go almost anywhere, is no longer able to do so in a straight line or to stop upon arrival. And then there is the pair of bull calves we have to sell, all the major repair work that has been waiting for Alan to have a week off from school so there are two men for the various jobs...and all that stuff...so I may not have much to say for a day or so. Sorry.
Monday, February 19, 2007
Opera browser
I know a couple of people in my blog roll use Opera so I tried it. So far it is very nice but it won’t let me type posts for this blog. Hmmmm. I am typing in Word and trying to paste.
Weird....it will let me paste in "edit HTML mode, but not in "Compose". I am sure there is some way to do this and I will try to find it.
Weird....it will let me paste in "edit HTML mode, but not in "Compose". I am sure there is some way to do this and I will try to find it.
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Big problems on the computer front
Kindly old Mr. Gates sent some along updates yesterday, which Norton generously allowed to be installed, even though I had instructed via my settings that I be asked if I wanted to install such downloads. The seeming result of that is that Netscape, my browser of choice, no longer functions (could have been a coincidence, but since my profile vanished from the computer at the same time I don't think so. No viruses, no new spyware, so I am leaning strongly toward those pesky updates). Since I despise IE and don't find Firefox willing to open a number of my favorite news sites, I will be spending a long, long time, re-downloading Netscape on my slow-as-molasses dial up connection. If and when I get my shiny new, not working today, computer going I will visit all my favorites. Until then, just sign me....
addicted to the Internet and needing a fix
addicted to the Internet and needing a fix
Friday, February 16, 2007
Scare tactics
We took our sweet time milking the cows this morning. It isn't milk tanker day, we got the grain truck in all right yesterday, most of the driveways are clear, and Alan is home from school, so we just coasted through chores. Al went up and dug the sheep a path so they can come down with the heifers after hiding in the tool shed during the storm. We puttered instead of pushing hard to get done and it was kind of nice. We even spent perhaps more time than usual sitting on thecurb behind the last few cows, talking about this and that, because for the first time in days we didn't HAVE to rush.
Thus when we came inside and the phone was beeping I hurried guiltily over to take the message, which I expected would be the girls telling me that they got back to college all right after their storm induced mini vacation. Instead I heard incoherent sobbing, and someone saying, "Oh, my God, oh my God," for about thirty seconds before it was cut off. To me it sounded just like Liz.
I was scared to death.
Total panic.
I called the guys in to listen and the boss thought it was the girls too.
While I called Becky's cell phone in worried haste, only to have it drop the call before taking me to voice mail, Alan kept calmly saying, "It's not the girls, mom, it's a prank call or somebody out of school and getting high."
I didn't believe him. I couldn't believe him. The roads are mostly cleared, but visibility is debatable because of the wind, and there is plenty of drifting. And those are my babies out there on the rush hour highway, no matter that they can and do both vote.
He was right though. When I finally managed to get Becky on the phone, they were fine. I wonder whether it was in fact a prank call or if it was a wrong number and some other mother is going to get some kind of frightening news from her daughters this morning.
I hope it is the former.
Thus when we came inside and the phone was beeping I hurried guiltily over to take the message, which I expected would be the girls telling me that they got back to college all right after their storm induced mini vacation. Instead I heard incoherent sobbing, and someone saying, "Oh, my God, oh my God," for about thirty seconds before it was cut off. To me it sounded just like Liz.
I was scared to death.
Total panic.
I called the guys in to listen and the boss thought it was the girls too.
While I called Becky's cell phone in worried haste, only to have it drop the call before taking me to voice mail, Alan kept calmly saying, "It's not the girls, mom, it's a prank call or somebody out of school and getting high."
I didn't believe him. I couldn't believe him. The roads are mostly cleared, but visibility is debatable because of the wind, and there is plenty of drifting. And those are my babies out there on the rush hour highway, no matter that they can and do both vote.
He was right though. When I finally managed to get Becky on the phone, they were fine. I wonder whether it was in fact a prank call or if it was a wrong number and some other mother is going to get some kind of frightening news from her daughters this morning.
I hope it is the former.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
More storm stuff
This little toy car is inside the kitchen window(gotta find where that snow is sneaking in and caulk it!)
It CAN be pretty
Chingachgook...or just some silly boy hunting pigeons in the storm?Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Into the heart of the storm
Photo by Alan
Photo by mom
Photo by momThe snow is 24 inches deep on the car right now, but seems deeper where the wind can't get to it. The extra-large bucket on the skid steer fills before Alan can even go five feet. We haven't seen a storm like this in many, many years.
He took the blue jay photo from the upstairs window using binoculars like he did on the deer pictures last fall. It gives an idea of how hard it was snowing earlier. It has actually gotten worse to the point you can barely see 5S. Big storm!
Blizzard warning-Happy Valentines Day
These came out of the closet last night and are leaning on the wall in the kitchen. Alan was in 4-H rather than the boy scouts, but he belives in being prepared. (For those of you who live where the manatees roam they are snow shoes and I would rather see a flock of robins I can assure you.) He also split up about a face cord and a half of stout maple last night and tucked it in under heavy canvas. We brought heifers in off the hill and stuffed them in the barn with the shorthorn bull, fueled up everything and picked up all the stuff that we could think of that might be hard to find under the snow that is forecast.
As of ten last night the college had cancelled classes for today for the first time in the three years Liz has been attending. Shortly thereafter FFCS joined a growing list of schools that are closing today. I am real glad of that. Although it looks like today is going to be a rough one at least we will know where they all are and have their invaluable help this day.
Now there are blizzard warnings for the first time in years. So far we only have about four inches, but it is that mealy stuff that tends to be a harbinger of lots more to come. I guess we are as prepared as we are going to be, but the B-word makes me plumb nervous.
As a wee footnote, the boss and I had the privilege of being awakened at some obscene pre-dawn hour, by an idiot on a snowmobile going about half again as fast as the plow trucks and the semis on the Thruway. I thought about a hundred mps, the boss says 75. Anyhow the foo' was either on the bike path or actually on 5S itself trying to find himself a headline or maybe an epitaph up in Evergreen. I dunno, but he sure woke me up. Anyhow, Happy Valentine's Day...hope it ain't snowing where you are.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Monday, February 12, 2007
Could be a rackabore bone
One of my read-'em'-every-day type favorite bloggers, Florida Cracker, posted an interesting puzzler today on his blog. (He is a teacher and likes to test us.)
Most guesses run toward mineral block or salt lick, but I am thinking maybe it is a rackabore bone. We see 'em all the time up here in the hilly country of Upstate NY and I am thinking maybe one retired to somewhat flatter Florida and succumbed out in FC's warm southern forest. Take a look and tell me what you think.
Most guesses run toward mineral block or salt lick, but I am thinking maybe it is a rackabore bone. We see 'em all the time up here in the hilly country of Upstate NY and I am thinking maybe one retired to somewhat flatter Florida and succumbed out in FC's warm southern forest. Take a look and tell me what you think.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
More About Growing lettuce indoors
Cabin fever and garden deprivation can get really intense by this time of year up here in the frozen north country.A sunny day that isn't too cold comes along and you just itch to go outside and plant something or pick something or do something besides stuff wood in the stove. However, the ground is still frozen and will be for a long time yet, the wind is still biting and it isn't even maple sugaring time. Sometimes, I can kind of ease through the no-dirt, no-greenery, no-gardening doldrums by puttering with the houseplants....repotting Amaryllises, cutting down gangly geraniums, picking off spent flowers and such, but really I need to grow something new and interesting. Most years I grow a few geraniums from seed, and maybe some lobelia, moon flowers or other things that require a bit of fussing. This year I am out of dirt and need to go buy some....which kind of goes against the grain.
Anyhow, I decided that we needed some lettuce that I knew came from a clean, fresh, not-in-another-state source so I decided to plant some in the living room. I used compost from the buckets I grew tomatoes in last summer and threw in some perlite and put the whole mess in a Styrofoam cooler left over from toting soda and Bologna sandwiches to the fair last summer. It has been slow going because there is so little sun, but it is beginning to come along quite nicely now. I nip off a leaf every now and then just to sample and I think we will be able to use it in sandwiches pretty soon.
Saturday, February 10, 2007
Friday, February 09, 2007
Repeat after me....
There are no flies
It is not muddy
Snow is pretty
Say it again
There are no flies
It is not muddy
Snow is…..
***Most politicians understand that if you tell a lie often enough people will begin to repeat it as if it were the truth...so I am chanting the mantra above in hopes that I will somehow start to like winter...
I might add:
People pay for dermabrasion to make themselves look younger. I am hoping wind blown snow has the same effect for a much lower price. (Although so far all it has made me look is redder.)
When I let the dogs out for a constitutional convention I do not have to stand on the porch shivering and calling, and calling, and calling before they come in. As soon as I open the door I find them huddled on the back porch in a trembling black mass and they fall all over themselves trying to get in.
There are no flies
It is not muddy......
Thursday, February 08, 2007
Yesterday
**Alan took this yesterday afternoon, just as the sun was beginning to set. You can barely see the houses with the reflecting windows except at that time of day.
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
Sunday, February 04, 2007
Following Michael's fingers
Sitting there today I reflected on how many hours, how many years, how many decades even, I have spent watching his fingers fly over the fret board and copying as best I could the chords he made. It has never been more than a poor facsimile, my part of the music, but it sure has been fun doing it.
Making music together began perhaps in my aunt’s yellow convertible out by the curb at 14 Bloomingdale Avenue, listening to fifties rock and roll and singing along. We were small then, and that car was the epitome of glamour and adventure.
Doing dishes together, him washing, me drying, and belting out Beach Boys and the Dave Clark Five. Even then his high, pure voice put my rumble to shame, but we had fun anyhow.
Then the “band” came along, that first one we started, with him playing on an antique wooden drum set that came into the shop and me wishing my short, untutored fingers would somehow learn to bend into a chord on his wonderful black guitar. Neighbor kids who couldn’t play anything either jammed into my bedroom with primitive instruments and an astonishing lack of talent. We made a lot of noise anyhow.
A couple years later we got a bit more serious. We learned to more or less really play our instruments. By then I knew enough chords to actually play a few songs…as long as they weren’t too hard. A better sort of musicians joined the gang, a lead guitar player, a pianist and a bass player. We began to practice in cellars and garages and to play at school dances and even actually got paid… usually about enough for gas money and solder to fix the always broken wires on the PA speakers.
Long before that time his talent was evident. He wrote music, played drums amazingly, learned guitar and other instruments.
After a few years of playing bars and local resorts the band broke up. We grew up, moved away, got married and grew apart, but always a couple of times a year we got together to play. He still took his music seriously and took it places, singing and playing in church, taking lessons, always getting better and still better.
I took cows seriously and never really had any talent to begin with…tone deaf as a dog howling at the moon. I still play the same second-hand imitation Gibson I have had for over thirty years…on the rare occasions that I play at all.
Still when we sat down in living rooms, on porches, at camp, at his house, at my house, at someone else’s house, I could always follow his fingers though songs that I didn’t know. Even though I had often never even heard them before, I could always read the chords he made like a sort of musical mirror and follow somehow. He would drag me along on his tuneful coattails and for a while I could fly on borrowed wings.
As we celebrated a late Christmas with his family, mine, and that of my younger brother today, he played John Pryne’s Paradise and I followed his hands. We played LA Freeway and soared a little…( at least it seemed that way to me, I am not sure how the people listening felt about it). He rattled off a Guy Clark song and I missed a few chords, but his lead was solid and by the end it fell together nicely. We did Danny’s Song and he let me sing the lead on the chorus in my scanty little voice and held me up with his rich harmony. It gave me cold chills.
He’s a pretty good brother, my next younger one. I think Ill keep him.
***I am going to keep the other one too, the baby of the family. He is such a lovely guy. He brought me diamonds today, great, gleaming chunks of them like ice glittering in the headlights on the highway.
*** Herkimer diamonds that is, but I love them anyhow.
The UN Global warming report
Here is a quote from a story that A Coyote at the Dog Show linked to the other day.
"Giegengack may have a personal 50-year perspective on global warming, but the time range he prefers to consult is more on the geologists’ scale. The Earth has been warming, he says, for about 20,000 years. We’ve only been collecting data on that trend for about 200 years. “For most of Earth history,” he says, “the globe has been warmer than it has been for the last 200 years. It has only rarely been cooler.” Those cooler periods have meant things like two miles of ice piled over much of what is now North America. Nothing to be nostalgic for."
Here is more:
“Sea level is rising,” Giegengack agrees, switching off the sound. But, he explains, it’s been rising ever since warming set in 18,000 years ago. The rate of rise has been pretty slow — only about 400 feet so far. And recently — meaning in the thousands of years — the rate has slowed even more. The Earth’s global ocean level is only going up 1.8 millimeters per year. That’s less than the thickness of one nickel. For the catastrophe of flooded cities and millions of refugees that Gore envisions, sea levels would have to rise about 20 feet."
Too bad the world listens to Oprah first and scientists second.
Saturday, February 03, 2007
A canine hero
This story of a stray dog, rescuing an injured motorist is pretty amazing. I knew I liked dogs.
***Update...Becky and I got to talking on the way up west to do errands today and came to the conclusion that if the animal that came upon the poor lady was a cat large enough to drag her by the collar she would have been a menu item rather than incredibly fortunate.
***Update...Becky and I got to talking on the way up west to do errands today and came to the conclusion that if the animal that came upon the poor lady was a cat large enough to drag her by the collar she would have been a menu item rather than incredibly fortunate.
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