Gift of the Mountain

Adirondack Barred Owl

We needed to get out of the house today. Desperately.

All day yesterday was spent processing meat. And I do mean all day.

Thus escape was the order of the day.

It was too gloomy to bother with Montezuma, although we did think about it for a bit. Alas, you can't identify birds well in bad light and the light was pretty awful.

Then we thought, why not the Dacks? A bad day touring the mountains beats many a good day elsewhere.

So off we went, intending to search for Helldiver Pond just in case there might be a moose. Or perhaps to case it for next spring when there probably will be a moose.

Along the way I pointed this guy out to Alan and we spun around to get these photos.

He asked me, "How on earth did you spot him?'

Alan took this one

I could have claimed eagle vision but he would have known that it was a lie. So I admitted that he had been flying in to land when I first saw him and had a pretty impressive wing span for such a small owl.

Helldiver Pond was a bust. Seasonal road closed and gated and another little road that didn't look like it would deal kindly with the Camaro. We didn't dare start a hike, even though it is said to be short and easy, as it was late in the day and it gets dark real early. Plus the weather was pretty iffy. At least we know where it is now.

Coming home past all the Christmas lights was a trip indeed. The tree in front of Richardson Foods in Canjo was outstanding, even in such an amazing field. We both oohed and ahhhed.

We also passed signs commemorating this in the Old Forge area. Being curious I looked it right up as soon as we got home. If you could see the place where it happened you would never imagine there even being train tracks there, let alone a massive two-train derailment that injured two-hundred people and killed three men, plus the animals from a traveling theatrical company. 

We had a good day. Nothing like magnificent mountains to lift you up in both elevation and atmosphere of heart. The Barred Owl was like a Christmas present under the tall dark trees. Alan spotted a second one just a few miles later, but it was gone before we could stop. 

A Nose for Poultry

The kids got a new rooster from a friend the other day. He is a Blue-laced Red Wyandotte. .

This old hen comes up to the bird feeder every day. The green on her black feathers is kinda attractive.

I go down to the heifer barn quite often to see what the birds, lambs, and bunnies are up to. The kids have done a nice job getting it cleaned up and fitted up for winter......

And Sunny is a nice fellow too.....sure is different from the days when we had sixty to eighty heifers down here and a couple of bulls though. I don't think the old barn would stand up to that any more.....

Hanging On

Been battling the books every day, which is why there hasn't been much in the way of posting. Gotta do it. It's a shame to miss this magnificent weather, tucked away in a dank and gloomy office just off the throne room, but it is what it is.

I must get the checks and balances and balance beams and checkered pasts all entered into the computer for next year, when Uncle Sam will be looking for an accounting and the accountant will be looking for data with which to render it.

However, I've decided not to knock myself out trying to get stuff together to apply for welfare subsidized government health insurance. I've been trying to get the job done for a couple of years now, as the fine is painful, but dagnabbit, farm books don't fit into the handy, dandy calculator one bit. How do I separate hay sales out into his and hers and show which of us is responsible for what percentage of the expenses? To heck with it. Let 'em throw me in jail. As long as there is a library I'll be good to go...or stay, as the case may be.

Thus I am light as a feather today. I still have to do books, but I am just going to pay the fine and be done with it. The day will come when I am dumped into Medicare and that will be sooner than it seems. And if there was a light in that blessed office I don't think I would even mind the books that much. Our good bookkeeper has taught me well and it is all pretty much logic. Nothing wrong with logic, although it is a little hard to find on the ground these days.

Oh, and the CMOS battery on the computer I use for books, an ancient, decrepit old Windows XP champ, has STB. Makes for interesting stuff with dates and times.....

Meanwhile, however, we are hanging on and enjoying the long, slow autumn. Sunrises alone are worth their weight in westbound crows and golden banners, and sunsets nearly match them.

The Round Pen

I can't resist fog or the early morning light, so when I saw the crow perched in the heifer pasture tree, nearly hidden by a curtain of the former, yet lit up by the latter, I had to go out.

At the old round pen, I heard odd sounds. A flock of Dark-eyed Juncos scattered like leaves before the wind as I stepped near. I watched and listened for a while, until the sun rose higher and the fog was nearly gone. 

There were so many birds in and around that weed tangled old enclosure, picking at insects on the blackberry canes and leaves, that the sound was as distinct and sharp as the start of a rain after a long, lamented drought.

The Round Pen Now

And then

No honest counting. They were deep in shrubbery, so many that I thought about herring.

It was the same all the way to the pasture, through the good horse yard, and past the old, vacant-because-it-is-too-wet-and-muddy, other horse yard.

There were at least twenty juncos, thirty to fifty gold finches, cardinals, robins, over a dozen chickadees, White-throated Sparrows galore, beaucoup de Tufted Titmousies, and a pair of Carolina Wrens. Woodpeckers. Plus American Crows all over the hill and Canada Geese, heard, but not seen in all the fog.

A hundred birds? Maybe more. It was simply a stunning birdy moment.

I used to use the round pen to start Border Collies on sheep. Alas it has grown up to Box Elder and Blackberry and languishes unloved and undogged.

However, it seems that others are finding it useful in my absence. They are ever so  welcome as long as they keep paying the rent required.

A few songs, a flutter, the musical patter of their feeding on the bugs....that will do just fine.


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Chocolate and All

Because, fresh from sleep and all pink and pretty and all, there is nothing like a toddler to sweeten up your day. 

It's Nothing Personal

We don't let much of anyone else hunt here either. There are about six people, including immediate family, who get to pursue the wily whitetail in our fields and woods. They know and respect our rules, our animals, the wildlife, and firearms safety. Plus, we've told you before....several times....

Other than that we just prefer to keep it quiet and as safe as we can out there. We like to walk the farm roads and fool with ponies and let our little one run tame around the buildings with her lambs and birds. Our cows are out there and we are pretty fond of them too.

So, thanks for stopping by to ask, driving right past the posted sign, terrorizing the dog and turning your horse and wagon around on the lawn, but, sorry, no....

Us.....Then....

I shamelessly borrowed this photo from my dear cousin, whose mother, my sweet aunt, is Alan's godmother. In this shot the girls are roughly four and two, the boss 42ish, and I am 38ish. The other gentleman is the boss's brother, Frank....a long, long time ago, I can still remember when....

Those were the days....but then again, so are these.

Nuttin' bout Nuttin'

Trying to write a real hard column this week on things about which I formerly knew nothing and am now attempting to learn everything, allowing for a super steep learning curve. Thus I haven't been doing much blog-worthy stuff, just sitting at the computer studying and scratching my head....oh, and talking to cool people in another country, which in and of itself is pretty amazing....

Our boy has gone back to the big city, leaving the house much quieter and kinda lonesome....I always miss him when he leaves. On the other hand it is hard to be 100% lonesome with a not-quite-two-year-old around.....

.....following you into the shower to point and laugh and the like.

Yeah, I had that unforgettable experience last night. I was merrily wielding the soap and hoping to get to my toes before I ran out of hot water...ain't rural life fun...when I heard this deep belly laugh way too close for comfort.

Yep, somebody in a bright red shirt and not much else had slipped through the door and was overcome with hilarity at the (shower) curtain call going on right before her very eyes.

Because babies are fun and all, I pointed and laughed right back and even though the hot water ran out about then we had a good old time mocking one another and giggling up a storm. Her mama kept trying to get her to go out into the office and feed the goldfish, but let's face it, I'm funnier than any old carp.

Good to know I can still do stand up comedy.

Recreating

Moon, still on grass, although Liz tosses them a little hay
 if they are down when she is feeding horses

The farmers were at play yesterday, after the hay customers went on their way bearing good feed for their horses and cow.

Heading for the hill, which you can see in the background. it is much higher than it looks

The men went out behind 7-County Hill to do a little huntin'.

And Becky and I went walking. No particular danger. We were on the north side of a near-mountain. They were on the south. And each knew where the other half was.

Beck and I logged 7.7 miles without ever leaving home. There were however, some circles involved. It is fun to walk the perimeter of the fields, up against the hedgerows, to see what you can see....and hear.

Alas, the birding was a little lame. Chickadees, Starlings, Blue Jays, a single White-throated Sparrow, and an LBB that defied identification. Looked exactly like a female Indigo Bunting, but it is winter, so that is pretty darned unlikely.

Tall girls makin' shadows

Meanwhile the guys were seeing everything. Alan had THREE species of woodpecker dropping bark on him and generally being pests.

Talking books...well, actually, glaring at the pesky camera lady

However, on our end, the book talk went on from cover to cover...talking literature with no interruptions, except to say, "Look, isn't that pretty!" is a rare treat.

Until the sun dropped behind 7-County....at 3:45!!!!!....and it suddenly got really cold. Then we all had to look for the old man for a while, as he had wandered off on his own, and then gone home. Of course, he doesn't do cell phones, so we had to holler and call the house for a while, as the sun sank lower and lower. 

But he was fine. He just got cold. As we did. I swear it took me half the night to get warmed up. Becky was in shorts. She is probably still half frozen....although maybe all those kitties helped with that situation.

It was good. I love it that since I decided last January in Florida to get fitter or die trying I can walk all that way, up hill and down, and not even be sore or tired the next day. 

And it was fun. You don't get days like that in December often enough. 

Yote tracks. We saw a lot of them and some were HUGE!

Gratitude

This morning I was given:

Two heartfelt, unsolicited, hugs from my favorite son.

One skein of geese, headed west and looking all not-winter-yet, and making me smile.

One set of puppy kisses, all warm and snuggly, getting the water off my cold fingers after I went out for fish tank water.

One batch of cookies from a recipe from a friend in Canada....well, actually I baked the cookies, but they sure tasted good.

One package of TicTacs left by my computer. What a nice and unexpected little gift.....I hope she wasn't trying to tell me something.

One tom turkey, of which I am absurdly fond, still alive this morning after being mauled by a rooster yesterday. The rooster was not quite as lucky.....

Someone to buy hay so maybe the taxes can get paid next year.

One quiet horse going out to pasture that didn't kick doofy Daisy in the head, even though she heeled him all the way, looking proud of herself as if it was all her idea that he go out for the day.

One small person saying "Please" to Uncle Alan to get the Christmas lights turned on, and "Thank you," for a cookie.

Warm busy house, warm noisy family, warm foolish dogs......all the good stuff, all morning long. 

Saving Family Farms

Some NY dairy farmers got a reprieve  from losing their milk market this week. So many others have gone through that awful wringer in the past few months.

When I read the article  it came as small surprise to find that the National Farmers Organization, or NFO, came through for them.

You see we faced this situation a few years back and it was truly awful.

Cows must be milked, at least twice every day. They must be fed and watered, receive veterinary care. Most have a nutritionist who visits and expects his due. The electric bill for the barns must be payed, and on a dairy it is often a whopper.   I saw bills up to a thousand a month when we had a full barn and a cold year. Tractors need fuel, insurance fees loom large. Taxes must be paid and they are not gentle on land owners.

When you lose your market, the milk goes down the drain, or if you are lucky you can give it away, and the check that offsets these liabilities is gone.

There are very few people who can afford to feed dozens, if not hundreds, of large, hungry animals and provide for all their other needs, as if they were pets. The sale barn and the end of life as you knew it looms large and stops sleep.

When it happened to us because our cooperative quit the company that had a contract with the small trucker who could access our challenging driveway, we spent weeks in a flurry of phone calls to legislators and everyone else we could find to no avail. 

And in fear. We were terrified. Those cows were like family to us, farming was all we knew, and we couldn't see a way out of it.

In the end, John Dabs, who owned the trucking company that picked up our milk, sent Ken Woodruff, who inspected for NY's NFO, to check us out. He looked over our barns, sat at our kitchen table talking and offering confident comfort, and signed us up...we have lost track of Ken, and I am sorry for it. He was good to us.

We stayed with NFO until we sold out. There were times they didn't pay as much as other coops and processors. There were times they charged more for this or that. There were times we got aggravated, as farmers, who are pretty helpless about what they are paid and what they pay out, sometimes do.

However, through it all, three times a month that milk check came and Ken was as reasonable a milk inspector to work with as I have ever met. Some processors, who are less scrupulous, leave farmers dangling for their last check when they sell out. Not NFO...we got every check.

I was and still am grateful to National Farmers for saving our farm ......at least for a while,.....and comforted to see that they are still doing it. It is good that someone still looks out for farmers instead of viewing them as cattle to be milked for all they are worth and then dumped.

Here is our story.....

Next in Line

Tradition. Can it help us be strong in family and faith? 

My grandmother had a nativity set just like this when I was small. It was carefully laid out on a little table, usually near the Christmas tree, right next to the front window. Ribbon candy appeared in a little blue dish along about that time too.....

I loved it, although it was a little intimidating too. Baby Jesus, those scary wise men, and all you know, and we were not allowed to get too close to it. However, I so desperately wanted to touch the animals and move the figurines .

Fast forward many years. Grandma is gone and the set left to another family member, who no doubt loves it dearly.

Meanwhile I found this one at a garage sale down in town for just five dollars quite  many years ago. The parts were not all there but we had fun finding replacements that kinda, sorta, almost matched, making legs for the broken dog, discovering that someone had added an extra wise man and putting in a Border Collie too.

It is a beloved tradition that is strong in our family, so much so that the kids actually cleared off Grandma Lachmayer's dining room table, another object steeped in family lore, without complaining too awfully badly. And it was buried pretty deep.

This morning was the first time Peggy has ever seen it. She seemed as awed as I was all those years ago, and wanted to add one of her cows to the one next to the manger. Hopefully she will learn the stories that go with the figures and remember grandmothers and aunts and uncles and Christmases filled with the magic of love and family, just as I do.

Ooh.......

Sour Moon

On the eve of Thanksgiving the moon rose over the horizon to the east like a big lemon lollipop or an errant toy balloon.

The day had been stressful.  The kind of stress that is embarrassing to admit to, as it is a stress borne of a great group of good things. Two cooks in one kitchen, cooking separate dishes for two different dinners. Major renovations taking place right outside the kitchen door, with attendant screaming power tools and lead cords dragged through the doors and draped all over.Good stuff, with good results soon to be enjoyed.

I was duly grateful for family and home improvements, but I can't lie.

I was stressed about half to death.

Thus as the day ended I sneaked out on my sitting porch, just the camera and me, and sat in my red chair snapping photos, looking as always for that elusive good moonshot.

There is a zone where all is forgotten and you are alone in your mind and at peace. I had just fallen into that place, watching the beauty, listening to the day's end sounds, resting my often too-busy brain.....

When WHAM. Somebody hit somebody down on the Thruway. Screaming tires and heart wrenching thump that is never forgotten, once heard. I ran inside to tell Jade, who was the only one in there, and ask if he thought I should call 911. However, within seconds red and blue lights were flashing, so I didn't.

I have no idea what happened. There were seven or eight emergency vehicles out there until hours later, and traffic was tied up for ages. However, if it ever made the news, I never saw it. How sad that someone's holiday was ruined.....I hope everyone is okay, but it sure didn't look good.

And I was once again grateful, that despite all the confusion, all of ours were safe at home. Thank God.

Secret

Swamp...well, not so much a secret as much as just off the beaten path. We went down to Schoharie Crossing yesterday morning, birding, but nothing was stirring but a few crows and a man walking his dog.

So we drove over to the bit of Bear Swamp that we call Lyker's Pond. I am sure that it is not its official name, be we all know where we mean when we talk about it.

There was a little grebe noodling around in the water when we got there, but the light was bad and once he saw us he was nothing but a splash and a vanish. Cool to see him though.

And then there was the Winterberry Holly. How I love to see it out there flaming in the woods, bright as a dozen flocks of cardinals, and as merry as Christmas against the greys and browns. 

It is one of those things I tend to forget about, rather than anticipating each season like the scent of the River Bank Grapes in June, so it comes as a sort of a surprise each winter.

Kind of like a Christmas present that shows up every year. I wonder if it would grow along the Long Lawn, where its feet would be good and wet....how cool would that be?