Cold Sky

The theme this week has been cold. Nice to have the mud turn the consistency of the stuff they make bowling balls out of but......ten degrees this morning.....brrr........

He's Got a Knife!

Liz shouted to the rest of us as she ran through the house after him. (Typical farm woman behavior- running toward trouble rather than away.) He charged right at me. I was sitting peacefully in my Sunday chair, eating a spectacular roast beef dinner that she made the night before, and reading a W.E.B. Griffin book.

He wasn't messing around either; he was carrying that ultra-sharp little Remington knife that mom and dad gave the boss for Christmas a couple of years ago. It is a nice one, with a serious edge and we had been using it to slice the beef. (You know you are a red neck when you slice dinner with a hunting knife.) We had heard someone rattling around in the kitchen, but I for one, thought it was just one of the dogs. I should have been paying more attention. Alan jumped up from where he had been playing on the computer and ran after him too. The rest of us froze in alarm, which is not much help under any circumstances. Good thing we had the young people to save us from this awful threat. However, they are bold and intrepid people and soon prevailed over our armed and dangerous intruder.

Liz actually caught up with him (under my footstool), but disarming him wasn't easy. After he went to all the trouble of stealing a weapon he wasn't parting with it without some discussion.....he picked the wrong person to discuss with, but I came THIS close to being stuck up at knife point. Little stinker.

I wish somebody would find the darned cat toy, which is somewhere among the missing. Then the perp would probably get off his current silverware stealing kick and go back to what passes for normal, thundering through the house a hundred miles an hour with the string from it clutched in his sharp little teeth.



Butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, but those in the know are aware that that crock is where Alan keeps his ammo for more serious weapons....I wonder what he is plotting here in this shot.

(And FC, check out that nifty paper tube there just behind him. I'll bet you know where that came from. I am husbanding those little pieces of fat wood like the wild gold they are. Many fires have already been started more easily because of them and many more will be.....thanks again and again. Mega Congratulations on your National Boards Certification too! Great job!! ............If you are a Pure Florida fan, or just want to read one of the best blogs out there, take a second to go visit FC and congratulate him on his success. Couldn't happen to a nicer guy.)

It is Farm Side Friday

Again

Weird Sky at Morning

Cold people take warning. 14 degrees just now, with snow forecast for next week. Had to put the cows in the barn even during the day yesterday (they have been in nights for weeks), which means a lot more time spent taking care of them. Really need to get the corn done before the snow arrives. Don't know how it is going to happen.

Food Fascists

Here is a fantastic column that in one place debunks, in clear, plain, English, much of our cultural love affair with emaciation. I was ready to holler Yeah! when I finished reading it.

Serendipitous coolness in Amsterdam

The boss is a big history fan, as are Alan and Becky. (Me not so much.) Thus when he heard about a book called Murder in the Adirondacks, he asked Becky to get it for him on inter library loan. He reads a lot, but mostly newspapers and trade publications, so this was quite unusual for him. He finished it in a couple of nights and his asides as he read made me want to read it too, so as soon as he finished I did so.

We both really liked it. The murder tale offered a good thread to hold the whole works together, but what I found most interesting was the glimpse it offered of life in that period. This was long before modern forensics, long before the ease of communication we take for granted today (early 1900s) and yet the murder was solved to the satisfaction of most people. I was amazed at how folks kept in contact with one another much more easily than might be expected. I guess the mail was quicker back then, because letters went quite a distance in just a day or two. People could use the mail to set up meetings in just a matter of days. Nowadays you could drive a slow horse from here to Utica a lot fast than a letter would travel, which rather puzzles me.

Anyhow, I was quite tickled to read on Dan's Blog that Amsterdam Reads 2009 chose it as their title for the year. (The readers are in for a good time I think.)The event is even written up on the website of the paper that runs the Farm Side. How neat that we should read it just before it was chosen!
Thanks for the heads up, Dan.

Update on the World According to Northview Farm

The 4490 is still dead and still sitting back in the field.

There are still around thirty loads of corn out, which the boss is still chopping, since we have had enough rain to float the ark. Thank God for the loan/rental of his friends' tractor.

Hunting season is less than a week old and the boss has already had a close encounter of the make-a-bad-name-for-all-hunters kind. He was chopping on one of our fields that bounds neighbors who bought their land for a hunting preserve. Someone, a complete stranger, who didn't walk like a country type of guy, waved to him from their side of the fence. He waved back and continued on down the rows of corn. The guy strode right over to the fence and climbed over right next to a big, fat, yellow posted sign. He motioned him to go back. The guy began a screaming match about how unfriendly and nasty my man is including some references to various parts of anatomy that will not be detailed here. The guy could not imagine why we would not want him trotting around the field where the boss was working, brandishing a loaded fire arm, or why we might want to keep the place for Alan to hunt. He was pretty graphic about his point of view. I guess the nearly ten thousand bucks in property taxes we pay each year is so he can have a nice place to play. Glad the boss has mellowed out a little in recent years because he is the wrong guy to pick on about trespassing and can make his feelings known.

Can you tell these animals apart? Me too.

We rarely turn the Jerseys out this time of year though, because a lot of other people, who are armed and dangerous can't. Check this story out if you want to be sickened about carelessness in the woods. I like hunting, and am even going to go out with Alan with the camera one day soon. I hate being forced to keep brown cows in the barn all during hunting season and worrying about my men as they go about their work.



Alan went out "deer lockering" for his fisheries and wildlife studies Sunday. He had quite a time shadowing a Department of Environmental Conservation technician as they aged deer and took samples to check for chronic wasting disease at various processing plants around the state. They also radio-tracked coyotes, which are being studied for their impact on deer populations. College sure does seem to be a lot more fun than it was when I went. Or maybe it is just that fisheries and wildlife has it all over liberal arts hands down (can you imagine me doing liberal anything?) Back in my day girls were nurses, secretaries or teachers...they sure didn't deer locker.



So that is the story here at the farm. Can't wait for the corn to be done. Hope the kid gets a deer. Hope the boss can find a new engine for the 4490 that we can afford to buy and put in. Hope things are going well at your place.
Me, I am ready to stop tearing my hair out any time now.

Proof is nice

But somehow this doesn't surprise me.

Happy 77th, Dad

Half an hour after this was taken he was out in the back yard splitting a yard long block of butternut.
And not with a wood splitter either.

Sunset in NY

Unbelievable

You need to go listen to the harmonica player on this video Joce has up. Incredible!

Ancient Greek Dead Parrot Jokes

Who knew that Monty Python style humor had been around since the 4th century AD?

Tales from College

As many of you know, Alan and Becky are attending SUNY Cobleskill. She is studying anthropology. He is entering the field of fisheries and wildlife. (Liz is staying home, having graduated, and partnering us in the farm operation...that translates into making my life immeasurably easier!)

This week in lab he and his classmates made tiger trout. These are a cross between male brook trout and female brown trout. I will leave it to your imagination how they get that crossing done. Alan was lucky enough to be assigned the job of mopping water up off the fish so he avoided some of the messier aspects of the tiger trout production project.

I have a great time every other Thursday when he comes home from lab and tells me about what they did. I am learning so much! Sunday he is going deer lockering with an fish and wildlife technician from the DEC.Can't wait to hear the story of that day!

Right now he is sitting with a sandwich waiting for it to be time to head out to his tree stand for opening day. Wish he got up this easily all the time. Opening day is so darned scary with all the fools out in the woods. We post our land, but as my dad always says, that only keeps the honest people out.

A timely gift

Our favorite grain truck driver brought us a present.




He had mentioned a time or two that he was going to.



But we didn't think anything of it.

Alan just called me to look out the back door and there among the weed eater, freezer, hundreds of muddy boots and tools she sat. She is so tame she had no interest in moving.

So now what do we do?

Still Another Farm Side Friday

Read it here

It's about migrating birds and their habits, and birds as barometers of the farm economy.

To Eat or Plant

That is the question. I planted two bulbs of this garlic yesterday. Now I have to decide whether to plant more and delay gratification or to just cook with the rest.
The boss bought me these bulbs to plant, but it is great stuff.
Really, really good!
Maybe I will run down to Pines and get some from them and plant that.
I want to eat this.....

And Earl from Just the Library Keeper, tagged me in this meme. I have done it before, but I think it is one of the most enjoyable ones around so here goes.

Rules:Pass it on to five other bloggers, and tell them to open the nearest book to page 56. Write out the fifth sentence on that page, and also the next two to five sentences. The CLOSEST BOOK, NOT YOUR FAVORITE, OR MOST INTELLECTUAL!

Lucky me, I was doing research yesterday, so rather than a romance or fantasy or something else that would reveal just how eclectic my reading tastes are, the closest book is Songbird Journeys by Mikoko Chu of the Cornell Laboratory of Ornithology. (A great read by the way. I really learned a lot from it and am still learning.)

"The study brought new attention to radio tracking just as Cochran was getting ready to retire his tracking vehicle and do something else for a while."

Cochran, by the way, followed individual birds equipped with tracking devices, while they migrated all over the US and parts of Canada.
In his car.
At night, since that is when birds do most of their migrating. His stories are amazing!

You can check out Songbird Journeys here and here

Ring around the moon

Veterans Day

A salute to the many who sacrificed to make it possible for us to live as we do. Not just the soldiers and sailors and airmen, but the wives, mothers, and kids, who maybe never knew their fathers. The folks who kept the home fires burning while America saved the world.
Again and again.
Thanks to you baby brother, who served in the air force and to the uncles who spent time in Japan, Panama, and Korea, while their family worried at home. Thanks to cousins too, at least one still serving his country,.and cousins' children stationed far away even now.

I remember the uncles coming home from distant and mysterious lands bringing amazing souvenirs of their service. The world was a lot bigger place then and we didn't think of Asia as being right next door. (I thought my paternal grandpa whose first two names were Theodore Roosevelt was president. After all he was a VIP to me and he looked a lot like Ike.) The uncles seemed larger than life in their khaki uniforms and short haircuts. Looking up the dates of the war period and occupation I see that I couldn't have been much more than three or four at the time so that is not too surprising. Funny that I remember it, but I do.

I hope what they all gave, whether in war or peace time, is never forgotten.
And once again I want to thank them all.

Thank you Grandpa

In the kitchen, just at my eye level, hangs this portrait of my maternal grandparents. Look closely and see how uncannily Grandpa's eyes look into yours. His heart looks right out straight out at you and he was a great-hearted man. He would do anything he could for you. When your car broke down, (and I drove a series of the worst cars in the world when I was young), he would be the one to call to come and rescue you, any time, any place. The ride home might be scarier than a ten-mile roller coaster, because he had his own personal approach to the highway, but he was there when you needed him. My brothers and I grew up running tame in their house while my folks went to antique shows and such. I learned to ride a bike on the dirt road in front of the house, picked strawberries out of the lawn, and made huge armies of maple twirler horses under the silver maples across the street. Their home was as much home to me as anywhere else on earth.

He used to delight in taking grand kids out to his garage, where he had saved every bent nail, every interesting old bottle, every strange electronic gadget that he had ever come across. He was a worker, oh, what a worker. When he retired from a life of hard labor in the tanneries, he took on part time jobs to fill his time.
Four of them.
I think he worked more hours in retirement than he did when he kept regular employment. He built their snug and welcoming house from used lumber and straightened nails. After he and grandma passed on I used to drive down their street just to go past it and remember. It broke my heart when the neighbors bought it and tore it down.

He still found time to grow rhubarb and currants and to climb up ladders when he should have been in his rocking chair.
Had to change the storm windows you know.
And he hated to ask.
The boss didn't get to enjoy the wonders of grandparents, due to early deaths and lasting feuding in his family...so he shared mine. They just loved him and he them. We used to take them fruit and cuts of veal that we had raised and stay on their porch and talk for hours. Although Grandpa was never one to just sit around, they would cut their Sunday travels short if they thought we would be stopping by.

He died when Liz was a baby. She is the only one of the kids to have had the chance to know him, but she got to sit on his knee like I did as a toddler and "ride horsey" to you-pa-de-ah-de-ah-dah, his grandbaby bouncing song. I don't think she remembers but I do. Alan may not have known him, but he got his long bony legs in the genetic lottery and my youngest baby brother inherited his kindness and doing for others mind set. They both remind me so much of him in so many ways....

Anyhow, every day when I fix my coffee, he and grandma are right there between the stove and the microwave. He is always staring right into my eyes, willing me to hang in there for another day. To get by somehow. And every day I talk to him in my mind, thanking him for the daily encouragement and the endless support when I was young and needed it so much.

Today as I stirred my Tasters Choice and thought back at him, it came to me, yes, Grandpa, you are right. You and Grandma and my other grandparents, whose portrait hangs on the other side of the stove, came through worse than we are facing now. The Great Depression, war that killed your friends and family and shook the foundations of the world, deprivations and deaths that would probably stop most folks today dead in their tracks. And yet, right to the end of your days, your life was one of cheerful service and freely-given love. You knew how to be happy with small things and to share what you had with others. Thanks for being there for me when I was young and silly and for still holding me up today. Just thanks.

Red

Excuse the mud. We are floating away in it

And not so red