Okay, it has been a while. Not, perhaps, as long as we wait for a member of my writing family to write...but then, she definitely has an excuse. Or two.
And, I think, somewhere, there might be a link to a blog from the "zoomers" in my family...but it has been so long that I've lost it. Please resend, if you're posting?
Bro, I admire your organization and tenacity. I can't find time to pair socks, but you can manage your blog. And hold down a real job. And all the other "unreal" jobs you do. Wow.
So I do feel a bit guilty about not writing, but I update my facebook once a month - what more do you need?
Today, I got a bit of time off. It was a gift day. A sad, pathetic little wish of mine was granted.
SNOW DAY!
Woo hoo! Actually, it's just a cold day. But I didn't have to leave my house. At all. That was the wish that my fairy godmother chose to grant. Gotta dream big!
The bus driver called just before he normally comes to get the kids to tell us that the division cancelled the buses. Thanks man, wouldn't have guessed that. The policy is to cancel at -45 with the windchill, my meter only read -28.
So, as I was doing the second shift Dale was taking his 40 winks. And I have two kids dressed for school, lunches made, and no one coming to get them. Hmm. Okay.
Jo practiced her piano. The girls started lessons a few weeks back on Wednesdays, so she was running through her stuff just in case she had a lesson today. Then she worked on her voice exercises - those lessons just started this week. Char read about 5 chapters of her book for her book report this week. Then she practiced her piano.
It was 8:15 a.m.
That's a lot of day left. Oh well. Charli started a craft kit that she wanted to do for ages. Jo and I started making baguettes and I started searing short ribs for stew. I drank some coffee while Jo did her "homework" and checked a website. Checked about piano - not today.
Then Dale got up, put my snowtires on my car (it was was warm in the shop) and took the kids to the dentist. I get so much flak when I take the girls to the dentist - they're never brushing, never flossing enough. Apparently, they're perfect for him. So he can have the job- I'm great with that!
While they were out, I shampooed the rest of the carpet that I swore I would never shampoo again, as it smells. Bad. I just did a vinegar rinse on the whole thing, followed by a sprinkling of borax. It will smell some tomorrow, but a lot less than it has before.
Kids came home, we had lunch, finished the bread, finished the craft, Jo finished her book, Charli finished hers, Char did her book report, Dale wired up some of the garage, I made stew, Jo wrote out all the names of the notes to Away in a Manger and taught herself to play it, then Char got onto that too.
Only not so great part of the whole day was an ornery oven - not sure what is going on with it this year, we had slightly dark ends/tops on the bread. That's disappointing for a first effort, but they both requested baguette for lunch tomorrow, so it can't be too bad.
So, I just need to put the rest of the short rib bones out in the garage to freeze the fat layer, then I'm heading to bed. Christmas concert tomorrow, so both girls will need their hair done before 7:45 a.m. At least it isn't a french braid for pictures. That was yesterday - which is why today was such a gift. I went from "Go, Go, Go! We need to move it!" and running eight directions at once to making stew. Too bad it can't last another day!
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Hell is cold. And rainy.
We have managed to harvest 33 acres in 28 days. The whole month has been rainy, and cold and basically, just like the summer.
And I don't want to talk about it anymore. Living in limbo for 4 weeks has been really hell. Or at least purgatory. We can't start winter projects, as we can't put away the fall stuff. The girls have missed two events so far because we couldn't commit without knowing whether we were in the field. We still have activities going on, but every morning that could change. Hasn't yet, so I'm functioning as if it were winter.
Except for the cash flow thing.
The funny thing about farming is that if you have crop in the bin it is inventory. You can borrow money against that to pay for the inputs that went into growing the crop. With the crop lying in the fields...we're not sure. It isn't inventory, we can't get an advance. Can't get crop insurance, it isn't harvested. So we're stuck.
If we can't get the crop off, we will have a cash flow shortage. Hopefully something governmental will kick in, but no guarantees, and it certainly won't be quick -this is a government thing.
If we could get the crop off, we'll still have to dry it. That will cost money. We may have to hire custom guys too (or at least pay neighbours) - that won't come cheap either. And it all takes time - to dry the crop means at least two more trips with the grain truck for each 500 bushel load.
We can't go away anywhere, just in case we get some drying days. Or freezing days - if the crop freeze dries, that would be fine too.
But snow is no good. And rain is no good. I'm thinking I should petition both the Weather Network and Environment Canada for a "dislike" button. It doesn't have to do anything, but it sure would feel good to punch it every time a new forecast comes along. Dale thinks that maybe he could make something like an "easy" button for weather and sell it - so far that's our best farm diversification strategy.
So, this is our own little hell here. I have always believed that hell was cold, I just didn't know that it was rainy too. I really don't like this climate change, if that is what this is!
Anyway, I'll let you know if this interminable harvest is ever finished. In the meantime, I will be grouchy. I apologize, but my best coping mechanisms include being reclusive and grumpy.
And I don't want to talk about it anymore. Living in limbo for 4 weeks has been really hell. Or at least purgatory. We can't start winter projects, as we can't put away the fall stuff. The girls have missed two events so far because we couldn't commit without knowing whether we were in the field. We still have activities going on, but every morning that could change. Hasn't yet, so I'm functioning as if it were winter.
Except for the cash flow thing.
The funny thing about farming is that if you have crop in the bin it is inventory. You can borrow money against that to pay for the inputs that went into growing the crop. With the crop lying in the fields...we're not sure. It isn't inventory, we can't get an advance. Can't get crop insurance, it isn't harvested. So we're stuck.
If we can't get the crop off, we will have a cash flow shortage. Hopefully something governmental will kick in, but no guarantees, and it certainly won't be quick -this is a government thing.
If we could get the crop off, we'll still have to dry it. That will cost money. We may have to hire custom guys too (or at least pay neighbours) - that won't come cheap either. And it all takes time - to dry the crop means at least two more trips with the grain truck for each 500 bushel load.
We can't go away anywhere, just in case we get some drying days. Or freezing days - if the crop freeze dries, that would be fine too.
But snow is no good. And rain is no good. I'm thinking I should petition both the Weather Network and Environment Canada for a "dislike" button. It doesn't have to do anything, but it sure would feel good to punch it every time a new forecast comes along. Dale thinks that maybe he could make something like an "easy" button for weather and sell it - so far that's our best farm diversification strategy.
So, this is our own little hell here. I have always believed that hell was cold, I just didn't know that it was rainy too. I really don't like this climate change, if that is what this is!
Anyway, I'll let you know if this interminable harvest is ever finished. In the meantime, I will be grouchy. I apologize, but my best coping mechanisms include being reclusive and grumpy.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
A tale of two kitties
Today has been a busy and extremely emotional day.
Mindy, our 13 year old much-loved cat had to be put to sleep today. She had developed something bad on her spine - the discs were compressed. The vet wasn't even sure if it was arthritis or some sort of injury, but she was in a lot of pain. She could no longer arch her back, causing her to retain her urine, which seemed to be the cause of the bladder infection a few weeks back. Dale had taken her in to the vet yesterday and they had done x-rays. Jo went along - the vet had kindly explained all that he could to her while she was there.
That didn't stop last night from being very rough. On her. And everyone in earshot. Jo has a very loud voice, and when she is in full bawl, oig. She was very, very upset, and couldn't quite understand why Mindy couldn't be well again. That would have been fantastic, but the vet didn't hold out much hope on keeping her comfortable.
So, this morning, Mindy had her last cuddles with Jo. The girls wrote letters and drew pictures and sent her off with a decorated shoebox to come home in. And the bawling continued.
Please don't think me insensitive. I am still upset myself. However, you needed to hear Jo to understand. I tried to let her cry it out. I tried to comfort her, talk it out, Dale showed her feline age calculators on the internet. She was just devastated and nothing would make her stop crying.
Until she met "Flash".
Flash is a four-week old kitten who should still be with her mommy, but she was abandoned and brought to the vet's office. Jo had been playing with Flash while Mindy was in X-ray yesterday. The ladies at the office told Jo that she wasn't old enough to go home yet, but that she would be up for adoption in a few weeks.
Right. Have you seen an eight year old's letter to her kitty "on the road to heaven" ? It is enough to break anyone's heart. Or at least make the vet clinic bend a few rules.
So, today, since the girls had to go get haircuts in town anyway, Flash got herself a new, very dedicated owner. And Joey is laughing again. We'll have to go get the new kitty some shots in a few weeks, but we have now adopted a shelter cat.
I'm sure that some parenting manual would have told me to make her grieve longer, but at least now we have time to get this little thing used to the farm before harvest and school start.
Char was also upset, by the way, but took things more quietly - she took a little walk by herself after we buried Mindy. Char was extremely concerned about Jo, though, so she was problem solving and encouraging her to adopt Flash every time Jo cried.
We still have to introduce Pixie to the new arrival, but she is in hiding from Tahi, so I need to wait for her to get hungry first. So I guess this is actually a tale of four kitties, but that isn't nearly as good of a pun.
Mindy, our 13 year old much-loved cat had to be put to sleep today. She had developed something bad on her spine - the discs were compressed. The vet wasn't even sure if it was arthritis or some sort of injury, but she was in a lot of pain. She could no longer arch her back, causing her to retain her urine, which seemed to be the cause of the bladder infection a few weeks back. Dale had taken her in to the vet yesterday and they had done x-rays. Jo went along - the vet had kindly explained all that he could to her while she was there.
That didn't stop last night from being very rough. On her. And everyone in earshot. Jo has a very loud voice, and when she is in full bawl, oig. She was very, very upset, and couldn't quite understand why Mindy couldn't be well again. That would have been fantastic, but the vet didn't hold out much hope on keeping her comfortable.
So, this morning, Mindy had her last cuddles with Jo. The girls wrote letters and drew pictures and sent her off with a decorated shoebox to come home in. And the bawling continued.
Please don't think me insensitive. I am still upset myself. However, you needed to hear Jo to understand. I tried to let her cry it out. I tried to comfort her, talk it out, Dale showed her feline age calculators on the internet. She was just devastated and nothing would make her stop crying.
Until she met "Flash".
Flash is a four-week old kitten who should still be with her mommy, but she was abandoned and brought to the vet's office. Jo had been playing with Flash while Mindy was in X-ray yesterday. The ladies at the office told Jo that she wasn't old enough to go home yet, but that she would be up for adoption in a few weeks.
Right. Have you seen an eight year old's letter to her kitty "on the road to heaven" ? It is enough to break anyone's heart. Or at least make the vet clinic bend a few rules.
So, today, since the girls had to go get haircuts in town anyway, Flash got herself a new, very dedicated owner. And Joey is laughing again. We'll have to go get the new kitty some shots in a few weeks, but we have now adopted a shelter cat.
I'm sure that some parenting manual would have told me to make her grieve longer, but at least now we have time to get this little thing used to the farm before harvest and school start.
Char was also upset, by the way, but took things more quietly - she took a little walk by herself after we buried Mindy. Char was extremely concerned about Jo, though, so she was problem solving and encouraging her to adopt Flash every time Jo cried.
We still have to introduce Pixie to the new arrival, but she is in hiding from Tahi, so I need to wait for her to get hungry first. So I guess this is actually a tale of four kitties, but that isn't nearly as good of a pun.
Monday, August 17, 2009
lost & found
Hello readers! Since you are predominately my family, and since you have all been here within the last month, I thought I'd give a quick rundown of the lost and found items here:
Anyway, since it looks like I have to do care packages up for all of you, please let me know what all you have actually missed, so I can send it along. Otherwise I will keep it, as usual, on my dresser until you return.
That's how I show you I care. Except mom & dad - their stuff gets thrown in their camper. Love you anyway - hope you had a great anniversary, parents!
- pink ball cap with princesses
- red swim shirt - Cars
- red trunks - navy hibiscus print
- green/blue toothbrush
- sony camera w/ case
- various drawings with "dear Tante" or "dear Uncle" on them
- pink sock, stained
- blue sock with 95 on it
- blue soother with Superman logo
- waterbottle - clear with black top - says Tucson, AZ on it
- blue shirt - "fast vintage hot rods" - possibly the youngest's?
- pampers wipes
- odds & ends of toiletries, scrubs, etc.
- umpteen dinky cars, motorcycles, etc.
- one "oriental chicken tenders" recipe
- one pair panties - size ten girls - or those may be from camp...
Anyway, since it looks like I have to do care packages up for all of you, please let me know what all you have actually missed, so I can send it along. Otherwise I will keep it, as usual, on my dresser until you return.
That's how I show you I care. Except mom & dad - their stuff gets thrown in their camper. Love you anyway - hope you had a great anniversary, parents!
Friday, June 19, 2009
girl projects vs. boy projects
Sorry I haven't been blogging much lately. Things are still busy on the farm. The kids continue to have a vibrant social life, which in turn means that I have none.
And, I started a project. A "linda" project. When I went to open the cabin, more floor tiles (slightly ugly, true linoleum) had removed themselves. I had already had difficulty keeping the floor clean last year because of the lifted tiles. So, being me, I decided to lift all the tiles. I thought that a smoothly painted subfloor would be a better option than the horrible broken/lifted tiles.
Now, 6 weeks (at least. Maybe more) later I am almost to the end of this lifting task. See, when this cabin was built originally, it was built well. So the person who put down the tile had done a good job. Curse him. The tiles that were lifting were due to the people who have had the cabin for the last while that didn't take care of it. Anywhere that the floor was wet the tiles had partially lifted.
Where the tiles are dry, they remain stuck to the floor. And linoleum tile does not remove easily once stuck. If you are especially deft with a putty knife, you might be able to lift part of the edges of the tile. But then the thing will break, and you'll never get that putty knife under the whole tile again.
So, the tough top surface (the actual flax product) chips off. You're left with black tarpaper type stuff on the subfloor. This is too thick to scrape and it will gum up your tools. Sanding is not an option, since the sandpaper would gum up.
Well, my mind doesn't stagnate in the home. I took an old iron (actually, it came with the cabin) and started melting off the tarpaper. It works remarkably well - so well that I have since purchased another ten dollar iron to continue my work. After a few minutes on "linen", it is possible to take a giant razor blade and scrape the subfloor until it is clear of crud. Well, mostly. The adhesive is still kind of there.
Then you wash the floor, which is extremely challenging when you have no water. It must be boiling water that you wash with, and that will melt the adhesive long enough for you to mop it into a bucket. It smells really awful.
However, I am almost done. I was thinking of painting this weekend. So before I left for the lake today, I had asked Dale to come out and maybe we'd look at removing the game cabinet that was in the cabin and take down some inner cladding that was still wet and moldy. The roof is on the things to do list this year too.
Dale brought his wrecking bar, his skilsaw, his rotary tool (just in case we had to replace bits of subfloor.) He took down the wall. We only have to replace the two stub walls and some studs beside the fireplace and a few roofing boards. Not as scary as we thought it might be.
Now this is when Dale started his project. He started to take apart the cabinet. I had tried with a little rubber mallet to no effect. He went full bore at the thing with the wrecking bar. About half an hour later, he was almost done - only two side pieces to go. After commenting on the love of iron that the builders seemed to have, he started kicking the sides of the cabinet. Did I mention that the original owners used this cabinet to store liquor?
The side pieces didn't budge.
At all.
So, out came the skilsaw. He would cut through the subfloor to expose the joists, which these side pieces seemed to be attached to. The rotary tool was intended to cut at the wall, since the subfloor was actually underneath the wall studs themselves.
He burnt out the motor on the rotary tool.
The next thing I know, the chainsaw is running inside my cabin. And soon, I have a 4' square hole in my floor.
And that almost finished my job. Because paint won't cover a 4' hole. So, I get to wait for a bit until he has time to make me a new bit of subfloor, then we'll putty it, then put some proboard over the whole place. No painting.
But, of course, we can't do that until the roof is fixed...
We put a little piece of plywood over the hole in the floor to keep the bugs out, by the way. However, I don't think we'll be able to have visitors yet!
And, I started a project. A "linda" project. When I went to open the cabin, more floor tiles (slightly ugly, true linoleum) had removed themselves. I had already had difficulty keeping the floor clean last year because of the lifted tiles. So, being me, I decided to lift all the tiles. I thought that a smoothly painted subfloor would be a better option than the horrible broken/lifted tiles.
Now, 6 weeks (at least. Maybe more) later I am almost to the end of this lifting task. See, when this cabin was built originally, it was built well. So the person who put down the tile had done a good job. Curse him. The tiles that were lifting were due to the people who have had the cabin for the last while that didn't take care of it. Anywhere that the floor was wet the tiles had partially lifted.
Where the tiles are dry, they remain stuck to the floor. And linoleum tile does not remove easily once stuck. If you are especially deft with a putty knife, you might be able to lift part of the edges of the tile. But then the thing will break, and you'll never get that putty knife under the whole tile again.
So, the tough top surface (the actual flax product) chips off. You're left with black tarpaper type stuff on the subfloor. This is too thick to scrape and it will gum up your tools. Sanding is not an option, since the sandpaper would gum up.
Well, my mind doesn't stagnate in the home. I took an old iron (actually, it came with the cabin) and started melting off the tarpaper. It works remarkably well - so well that I have since purchased another ten dollar iron to continue my work. After a few minutes on "linen", it is possible to take a giant razor blade and scrape the subfloor until it is clear of crud. Well, mostly. The adhesive is still kind of there.
Then you wash the floor, which is extremely challenging when you have no water. It must be boiling water that you wash with, and that will melt the adhesive long enough for you to mop it into a bucket. It smells really awful.
However, I am almost done. I was thinking of painting this weekend. So before I left for the lake today, I had asked Dale to come out and maybe we'd look at removing the game cabinet that was in the cabin and take down some inner cladding that was still wet and moldy. The roof is on the things to do list this year too.
Dale brought his wrecking bar, his skilsaw, his rotary tool (just in case we had to replace bits of subfloor.) He took down the wall. We only have to replace the two stub walls and some studs beside the fireplace and a few roofing boards. Not as scary as we thought it might be.
Now this is when Dale started his project. He started to take apart the cabinet. I had tried with a little rubber mallet to no effect. He went full bore at the thing with the wrecking bar. About half an hour later, he was almost done - only two side pieces to go. After commenting on the love of iron that the builders seemed to have, he started kicking the sides of the cabinet. Did I mention that the original owners used this cabinet to store liquor?
The side pieces didn't budge.
At all.
So, out came the skilsaw. He would cut through the subfloor to expose the joists, which these side pieces seemed to be attached to. The rotary tool was intended to cut at the wall, since the subfloor was actually underneath the wall studs themselves.
He burnt out the motor on the rotary tool.
The next thing I know, the chainsaw is running inside my cabin. And soon, I have a 4' square hole in my floor.
And that almost finished my job. Because paint won't cover a 4' hole. So, I get to wait for a bit until he has time to make me a new bit of subfloor, then we'll putty it, then put some proboard over the whole place. No painting.
But, of course, we can't do that until the roof is fixed...
We put a little piece of plywood over the hole in the floor to keep the bugs out, by the way. However, I don't think we'll be able to have visitors yet!
Thursday, May 21, 2009
obsessed with Alton
My family is obsessed with Alton Brown.
My children, as babies, found him fascinating. They still "videoit" whenever he is on. My brother, my father, they watch every episode whenever possible. Perhaps my children found him interesting because their grandfather was watching him during their formative years...I'm not sure. But, nonetheless, he is a unique TV personality.
My aunt even followed Alton all around the US on a trip that he wrote about in his book.
Unfortunately,I don't share the total obsession as I live on the farm. My cooking life is not filled with mushroom brushes or pate knives, but is instead filled with copious amounts of seasonal produce that needs to be put down immediately. Alternatively (or concurrently, depending on the season), I need to have multiple meals ready at particular times...although those times may change with the weather.
This is my small ode to Alton. Through his tv show, I finally learned to grill without tears.
I find that Alton is a bit scientific for me. I realize that flour by weight is indeed more accurate than flour by volume, but honestly, I don't care. Half the time my recipes are 50 to 100 years old and require different amounts of flour anyway. I mean, really, when we aren't grinding our own flour, the consistency is different.
And professionally, I can tell you that the gluten profiles in modern wheat varieties are different. Thus, all old recipes must be adjusted accordingly. But that is another blog.
Somewhere ('cause I can't find it online), Alton had an episode which talked about how men are bad barbequers. He didn't mean "bad" as in good...he meant bad as in didn't use separate plates and utensils and therefore transferred bad bacteria. And men didn't use meat thermometers. So he showed them how to grill by the clock...which helped me a lot.
Or maybe the whole episode was in my imagination. It doesn't matter anyway. I can now put a grilled burger/pork chop/chicken piece on the table cooked to the correct temperature on time just about every night.
However, it is 20:30 now, and supper was supposed to be ready for 19:30. And the cats have already tried to eat the whole thing.
Sorry Alton, there is no planning for farmers.
My children, as babies, found him fascinating. They still "videoit" whenever he is on. My brother, my father, they watch every episode whenever possible. Perhaps my children found him interesting because their grandfather was watching him during their formative years...I'm not sure. But, nonetheless, he is a unique TV personality.
My aunt even followed Alton all around the US on a trip that he wrote about in his book.
Unfortunately,I don't share the total obsession as I live on the farm. My cooking life is not filled with mushroom brushes or pate knives, but is instead filled with copious amounts of seasonal produce that needs to be put down immediately. Alternatively (or concurrently, depending on the season), I need to have multiple meals ready at particular times...although those times may change with the weather.
This is my small ode to Alton. Through his tv show, I finally learned to grill without tears.
I find that Alton is a bit scientific for me. I realize that flour by weight is indeed more accurate than flour by volume, but honestly, I don't care. Half the time my recipes are 50 to 100 years old and require different amounts of flour anyway. I mean, really, when we aren't grinding our own flour, the consistency is different.
And professionally, I can tell you that the gluten profiles in modern wheat varieties are different. Thus, all old recipes must be adjusted accordingly. But that is another blog.
Somewhere ('cause I can't find it online), Alton had an episode which talked about how men are bad barbequers. He didn't mean "bad" as in good...he meant bad as in didn't use separate plates and utensils and therefore transferred bad bacteria. And men didn't use meat thermometers. So he showed them how to grill by the clock...which helped me a lot.
Or maybe the whole episode was in my imagination. It doesn't matter anyway. I can now put a grilled burger/pork chop/chicken piece on the table cooked to the correct temperature on time just about every night.
However, it is 20:30 now, and supper was supposed to be ready for 19:30. And the cats have already tried to eat the whole thing.
Sorry Alton, there is no planning for farmers.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
farm kids
It is spring time despite the frost warnings, so the little baby animals are out and about. This brings a great deal of delight to my little girls' lives.
Trips to take coffee to the tractor, or to soccer practice, or to the lake are punctuated by "look at the adorable little calf", "I think the white one is soooooo cute", "oh, that foal is just so sweet" etc., etc.
I'm trying to keep things real with the girls. It is a survival mechanism to avoid the pony. Ponies are not inevitable, no matter what the neighbours say.
Anyway, while the girls were gushing over the new calves while we drove by Desrochers this evening, I asked them if they realized that the cute little calves turned into big, ugly cows.
From the back seat, my youngest replied "yes, but that's okay because then the big, ugly cows get together and have babies and then there are more cute little calves."
Wonder if I need to have a chat with the Kindergarten teacher...there are a lot of new baby siblings in the K class this year, and it sounds like perhaps the little people have figured it all out. Or maybe it just comes with being a farm kid.
Trips to take coffee to the tractor, or to soccer practice, or to the lake are punctuated by "look at the adorable little calf", "I think the white one is soooooo cute", "oh, that foal is just so sweet" etc., etc.
I'm trying to keep things real with the girls. It is a survival mechanism to avoid the pony. Ponies are not inevitable, no matter what the neighbours say.
Anyway, while the girls were gushing over the new calves while we drove by Desrochers this evening, I asked them if they realized that the cute little calves turned into big, ugly cows.
From the back seat, my youngest replied "yes, but that's okay because then the big, ugly cows get together and have babies and then there are more cute little calves."
Wonder if I need to have a chat with the Kindergarten teacher...there are a lot of new baby siblings in the K class this year, and it sounds like perhaps the little people have figured it all out. Or maybe it just comes with being a farm kid.
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