Mornings

Hope you can stand more lake photos.....

Lake Babies

We haz em.

Weedy

Camp was great; incredible sunrises, lots of birds, interesting fish, and peace. 

Quiet. Just the sounds of wind and water, birds singing and fish jumping....only a few motor boats...hardly enough to mention.

Calm. It is easy to be calm at the lake.

Basswood flowers

We had tons of company, but they were people we wait all year to see and talk to....very sweet and good. 

The weather was strange. Beyond strange. It got so cold we wore all the heavy clothes we brought along just in case...and could have used some more.

However, there was a basswood tree draped over the roof of the cabin, with mops of blooms, fragrant as the honey the humming bees were making of it. All the basswood trees in the forest were in bloom at the same time. It smelled so good!

I saw a garter snake under the cabin that had blue stripes on its back. I had heard of them, but had sure never seen one before. Was pretty excited by same.

Our boy came up the last two days, thus never a dull moment ensued. He took me out trolling....rowing btw...for bass with his fly rod. When he hooked onto one with that light tackle, yowsa!! What excitement! It was really a lot of fun and I wished for more days with which to partake.

Now we are home with gardens full of weeds to tend to, as well as the first peas and beans and squash and garlic to dig an onions to freeze.

It's all good. 

Sunday Stills.....Groups of Birds

Getting ready to rumble

Duck wars

And stay out!

A perfect challenge for us for this week, as we were at the lake, where birds abounded. Ducks, as you can see, don't much like each other. The Mallards and Black Ducks were at war all week. They would start a quick, staccato quacking as soon as they saw each other, sail towards one another, check each other out, and then erupt into violent ducking and splashing. Quite entertaining, even if wet....even in the photos only showing a couple of ducks there were actually many more....they were just underneath the melee. 

For more Sunday Stills......

What was That....Wait, what IS that?

Camp starts this noon. See you next Saturday afternoon.

However, things are still rolling here at the farm. Welcome to the madhouse....I get up  a couple hours before the rest of the crew for some quiet time and to get some chores done while house is still.

First job is to take Daisy out for her little walkies.

I opened the porch door to find that during the night something had wreaked havoc.

The snow shovel, brush nippers, tool boxes, garden stuff, hose nozzles, etc. were strewn and tangled everywhere.

The wood of the wall....not the world's sturdiest wall...was chewed away on the corner of the door to make a round hole so whatever it was could escape.

My guess when I went out there and sniffed the air was fox...it was sort of a wet, rank, doggy odor. The hole is about the right size....

I woke up the boss, because that is what wives do. He got out the .410 and put in a couple of shells and we took a look around. 

After I put on gloves and cleaned up the mess that is. Lots of rabies around here....so Peggy will have to be carried through the porch for a few days.

Something rustled in the bushes under the mulberry tree, but odds are that was just a deer. We went back inside to talk about the Amsterdam Mohawks ball game he went to last night...guess he had quite a time.

And then.....my cell phone rang. It was Liz, making no sense at all. Something about a calf, but incoherent with excitement.

 We bred both old cows last year. Moon didn't calve to the service we had on record and neither did Bama. We didn't care too much....

We had vague memories of talking about breeding Moon a second time, but it wasn't written down (my bad) and no one actually remembered doing it. I thought she looked bred when we brought them in the barn last Saturday because of concern that local fireworks might scare them. She wasn't bagging though, and I just said, nah, we never bred her again.

Guess we did though. It's a girl.

Field Names

Speaking of cars, I miss this guy

They tend to grow from descriptions that pop up in conversations about the day's plans and adventures.

"You know, the field where Dad put the little tree through the haybine...." The boss's dad that is.....it soon becomes "The Brush Lot." Trees and brush are not friends to haybines.

60-Acre Lot, 30-Acre Lot, Field behind the Barn, Old Pasture Lot, Hickory Tree Field, and Seven County Hill are self-explanatory.

The T Field is shaped like a "T", which shows clearly on aerial photographs.

The Old Spreader Field is where they tipped up an old manure spreader to cannibalize the wheels for something else.

Sometimes there is a story behind the names. So it is with Stolen Car Lot. It was before my time, so I don't know what it's old name was, but years ago, when the boss was a boy, someone stole a car nearby. They must have panicked when pursued, because they didn't keep it long.

It was just after the family bought this farm....they had been farming on the other one a while.

 His older brother was hunting out there when he spotted something shiny stuffed under the brush of the hedgerow.

It was the stolen car. It had been partly dismantled and the parts were scattered under canvases. 

The situation was reported to the appropriate authorities, who came and investigated and had it towed out.

So the field got a new name. We still wonder how they got it back there. 

Lookin' out my Back Door

An affinity for mud

For Camo

A Green Green Frog......not redundant at all

Ravens

Everybody likes mulberries

It has been a weird year for counting birds. Normally Eastern Kingbirds show up early in the season and are seen on the horse pasture all summer long.

This year we didn't see any until last week and even now they are in and out.

No Eastern Towhees. No Eastern Bluebirds. Only House Wrens representing the wren family......

Sigh.....

And up until this past weekend, no Common Ravens either. We usually see more of them during the colder months so they tend to get counted early.

However, a flock of at least five flew over when we cooking out the other day. Every morning since they have been perching in the dead elm behind the heifer barn croaking up a storm.

And every day I hurry for the camera. And every day they are gone.

I guess they prefer to take their quothing elsewhere.

Despite these notable holes in the count list we have still seen 72 species so far this year, which nearly equals last year's total of 73 for the whole year. No reason to think we won't pick up something else as fall migration sets in. 

I am looking forward to counting next week at Peck's Lake....family members have spotted nesting Common Loons there...it is always good for mountain birds we don't see down here in the valleys and foothills....

Green

The guys worked this field up and then couldn't get it planted.
The mustard was glad to plant itself.

I think this is the greenest summer I have ever seen. Even the morning and evening light is green. A glance out the kitchen window shows nothing but....even the sky seems green-tinted because every inch is surrounded by green leaves and green grass. It rains pretty much two out of three days....great for growing things, awful for harvesting them.

It is decadently lush. 

The garden is pretty stable...Beans are blooming; baby peas and squash are forming.

As are weeds, which return daily and with great enthusiasm. 

They are really going to get a stranglehold next week when we go to camp.

Barnyard...no cows. The rain has washed a lot of gravel down here

 I've been packing, a little each day. Poles and noodles and swim suits and personal flotation devices and spoons and forks and paper plates. It takes a lotta stuff to live a week away from home the way we do it, but it sure is fun.

Hit the library yesterday for one of the most important ingredients of the week.

You can see why they call it Birdsfoot Trefoil

Books! I was thrilled to find a Del Shannon that I don't have, out in back in the free stuff. Shannon is so much fun to read. No political correctness, no sobbing sympathy for the bad guys, just good, strong, good vs evil mysteries. I guess that dates me, but I can remember when things were different than now.

We will be here until Saturday......

Meanwhile, the river is awful high.

This Guy

Is working far from home, missing his family and his farm, as well as missing all the sunny days during a miserably rainy hay season.

He is also having a birthday today, so if you see him, wish him a happy.....he is a great guy and a real good brother.

Happy Birthday, Mappy.

Mad Skillz

This weekend, soda bottles were harmed

I fixed the washing machine.

All by myself too. As you know, if you've been reading here long, farm women are surrounded by the kind of men who can split huge tractors in half and repair whatsoever is borked in there.

Stuff was grilled, including steaks and hamburgers from our most recent beef

They can weld old balers up and get another few years out of them, change oil, replace brakes, and all manner of other impressive and esoteric repair and maintenance tasks that I wouldn't touch with a ten-foot wrench.

However, none of them messes with washing machines. They are not so much complicated as encased in inconvenient metal parts that make them hard to fix.

When ours started screaming this weekend whenever it was on the spin cycle, my thoughts turned to spun bearings, broken pulleys, jammed wingnuts, and other things that are hidden deep in the guts of the white monster.

Dang.

The boss made his famous potatoes

That poor little machine works nearly continuously. When the herd of adults who live here aren't washing clothes, there are baby things in there...and you know babies....and in the interim should there be one, I wash Alan's grouty clothes from his job. 

When I do that there are crumbs of cement in the tub when I get done...I could darned near pave the driveway with them.

Thus its apparent demise brought consternation and frantic plans for getting a new one...quickly.

This morning I figured I'd run one last load of small blankets through it.

What could happen but that it would break completely?

As I was putting them in...I'm a shorty...I had to lean on it to reach.

Moving it a tiny bit produced that same Godawful shriek......from the OUTSIDE!!!

I dug around in the clutter of old plastic bags, misplaced tee shirts and other detritus that lurks beside it and found.........wait for it......ta da........ the culprit.

The big metal dustpan had gotten shoved up against the side and was making the noise when the washer jiggled in the spin cycle.

I moved it.

Like magic the little washer that could is working fine again....

Is that cool or what?

I am very happy.

Sunday Stills....the Color White

For more Sunday Stills.......

Barbecue and Baling

Or perhaps not.....Happy Birthday America. You may know that there is no crying in baseball, and I truly wish you would dry your birthday tears and let the sun shine through so the guys can bale today.

Not likely, but they were able to grab a couple of small loads yesterday and put them right in the mow.

Hope you all have a wonderful day....and that we all remember why we celebrate. Take care.