Soybean Harvest

So its time for soybeans to be harvested...and what kind of farmwife would I be if I didn't run out to the field and ride around with J (and take him some beers :-)).

While I was waiting patiently drinking my glass of wine, I look down, and so sad some of the soybean seeds had already popped out of their pod/shell thing.  In the pic they look like white peas....expensive white peas.

Then I see J driving his combine..this is a weird patch of ground that he farms for crazy Karl...maybe that's why the ground is crazy--LOL.

Then J comes and gets me to ride around...mind you its no easy task climbing into a combine with 2 beers and a glass of wine.

But when its all said and done...this is what we get..isn't it pretty--can you smell the money?  Or rather smell the fuel bill/Coop bill/seed guy/fertilizer bill going away...ahhh!

Cleaning out the deep freeze means....

So J is a big hunter, plus we get 1/4 of beef or pork every so often, so the deep freeze (yes the one in the Adams family basement) is stocked with all kinds of meat.  Some of the stuff I don't even touch...especially if its in a black trash bag--usually that's a head of something and I don't mess with that.  Anyways, its almost deer season and its time to clean out the freezer, which means getting creative with meals.  Last night was excellent, and here's what I did.

There were some deer backstraps that were a little old, so I knew they were going to be a bit tough.  So...I marinated them in 1-2 ounces of Jim Beam (yes friend M--alcohol isn't just for drinking  ;-)) , bit of molasses, touch of honey, chipotle sauce, pepper and garlic, and a bit of water, put them in the oven at 150 for about an hour--and they were fabulous!!  Yum--something about the Jim Beam mixed with the sweet and spice--made those things real nice!  Put it with some scalloped potatoes, teriyaki  peas--I think J thought he was in heaven--delicious!

Adventures in Grain

So I was driving to church this morning, and notice some milo that had been swathed down, leaving the crop insurance mohawk strip in the middle.  The bales were baled all in white plastic and upright instead of laying on their side.  Hmmm.  So of course I txt J and say what the heck is that?

Now let me say, that on the farm where I grew up we had cows--we didn't farm.  Ask me the difference between a heifer and a steer, I can tell ya.  Ask me the difference in milo or soybeans--didn't have a clue.  True, driving down the road, I could see different crops, but didn't really know what they were.  I even thought the corn cob came out of the top tassle part (I know--dumb).  I just really had no clue.  However, J is more farmer than cow person, so he's been educating me  :-)  And no the cob does not come out the top.  I can now tell the difference between soybeans, milo (white and red), wheat, corn, etc.  I still get tripped up every now and then.  About a month ago I had to drive north and saw some really tall milo.  Now me, I'm like wow they must have had a lot of rain! (where we live everything's kind of short and puny looking because of no rain).  So I tell J wow their milo looks great it was like 4-5 feet tall--LOL.  Turns out that's atlas a superkind of milo.  Oh, he's good to humor me :-)

So it turns out these cotton ball looking bales of milo are sealed so it lets it ferment and turn into silage--hmph, who knew?  I didn't  :-)

Dear Santa

I think I've been so good this year!  I've ran calves in, I've fixed fence, I've loaded wood, laundry, etc etc.  And wouldn't these shoes just look so cute under my tree? 

I guess Stuart Weitzman's grandpa designed these in the 40s but have never been produced (maybe that's why I love them--they're so vintage-y looking!).  Anyways thanks Santa!  7 1/2 please  :-)

Love,
Barnyard Barbie

They Know My Voice

So it struck me tonight when I was walking out to see J working on his planter, that when I walked all the little animals around here ears' perk up--they know Momma is coming.  Especially the cats...

And I should say I've never been a cat fan--kind of allergic, but J had barn cats, so ya know, they're here, I will talk to them.  We have:  Catman--a tomcat who is orange--he's really nice.  He'll disappear for a couple of days, but then return running towards me--ahh!.  Shady-a white girl cat, who's siblings and mother were CRAZY, but she managed to survive.  She's still kind of shady, but much better than she used to be.  Smoke--he's a tomcat (I don't have a pic of him), he's very skittish, and kind of growls at you.  I make a joke and usually growl at him first --RRRRR--LOL.  Then there are my little monsters--my babies.

Their mother, lil sh*t, somebody dropped off at our house about a year ago.  She was just a wee little black kitten, and lil sh*t seemed to stick as a name.  Well in May she had kittens  :-)  They were all so cute!!  Sadly a bunch of them disppeared--she did too.  J in his wonderful steadfastness didn't really say that the other ones would make it.  There were just 3 left and they were so little.  But we all know me (and J--he's a big softie), and I took little milk out there for them and coaxed them along.  I really think its that they had heard my voice even in the womb, talking to lil sh*t :-) 

So they are my little monster babies--3 little cats that look alike.  When they hear or see me they come running, they know their momma is near  :-)

Sunday Flashback

So as I was heading out to feed Scoot (our horse) this morning, I had a flashback to another morning about 10 months ago.  J works on Sundays, so I usually do the chores so he can get to work and before I head to church.  Well this cold morning, I head out to do chores and here's what happened.  Now first I should preface by saying what I was wearing (it makes the story much more comical).  My rainbow boots, fat pants, and J's carhart jacket (which is about 5 sizes too big for me and hangs down to my knees), and I even still had my glasses on.  I was looking H-O-T hot!  So out I head out the back door feeling pretty cool and calm, I'm on top of my game.  I say hi to all the little animals, feed and water Scoot and head back to the house.  Go up the back door, and Bam--it is locked!  What?!?!  I didn't realize it was one of those lock-behind you doors, I just thought the deadbolt was used.  Oops!  I trudge up to the front and think maybe J left it unlocked, nope!  So here I am 7:30 or so in the morning, cold, and locked out of my house, and Sunday school is at 9:00.  hmmm.  *Yes, we did have a hidden key box, but it had a rather unfortunate accident with my boot heel during a winter storm when it was frozen shut  :-) *   And of course I didn't have my cell phone with me to call a neighbor or anything.  So I start walking around the house, wondering if one of the windows was unlocked or could be broken.  I'm sure anyone driving by got a good laugh at some weird person walking around their house. Then I think about the basement windows.  Our basement is a creepy place that I don't like to go in--it looks like the Adams family decorated it.  But--we do have a deep freeze right below a window, that I could fall on.  So I rip the screen on this window, lightly punch the glass window pane (miraculously it fell and did not break), and go for it.  I take my glasses off, lay on the ground and shimmy-scoot feet first through this window hole, when my boots hit that deep freeze, I let a big breath out.  Looking up at the window hole, standing on the deep freeze, I thought I just broke into our house--LOL.  But you gotta do what you gotta do. 

So I got an "F" in Farmer Talk

So one of the amazing things that I've noticed being out here in the country, is Farmer Talk.  Schwoo!  Guys are bigger gossipers than women!  And that whole "men use fewer words during the day than women" I don't buy that at all.  Maybe they should visit a local cafe during coffee hour and count the words farmers say.  I've tried to analyze it too, and it just doesn't add up in my logical brain. 

For example, let's use laundry as a synonym for a flat tire, broken sickle, busted bale, etc and compare women to men.  Well see I have this pile of laundry.  Yep, I saw that Maybelle had some too.  Course you know she has that new washer, so maybe well you know she might get too it quicker.  Well, I don't know my pile's kinda big, there's coloreds and whites and towels too.  This job is not getting started before I have my coffee, let's head up to the cafe and see if Maude is up there talking about her laundry.  *Two hours transpired at the cafe, because not only was Maude there, but so was Olive and Claire Anne and they had to talk about their laundry too.*  Meanwhile back at the ranch, I looked at that pile of laundry and well, decided maybe I just ought to go ahead and sort it.  Course Ellen Jane, my good friend in the county over, called as I was sorting, and don't you know I had to talk to her about her laundry foibles over in Tucker county.  So this laundry sorting and starting took a good 3-4 hours from beginning to end.

SCHWOO!  What if women really talked like that?  Nothing would get done!  If there's laundry to be done, do it.  If that tire's flat, fix it.  There is no amount of yackin your trap that will make that tire/sickle/whatever better.  Its actually doing something.  J just laughs, he can tell when I'm just like, I gotta go, you and your seed guy/friend/whatever can keep yacking, but I'm outta here.  Why, because this girl got an "F" in farmer talk and can not BS when there's stuff to be done.

Unplugged

So this weekend, one of my cousins asked if he could bring his kiddos out to the farm.  Sure, why not  :-)  They/we had a blast!  Running around looking at the horse, petting the kittens, climbing all over the combine/tractor/semi/etc farm equipment, playing on the swings, etc, etc.  It was so great to see them run and play (isn't that what kids are supposed to do?).  Of course they did come inside and look for a game console...hmm J and I don't have one.  Do we need one?  Don't we have all the entertainment kids need outside?  Playing over hay bales, creating games of their own?  I remember my siblings and I on the farm would make up all kinds of games in the barn/corrals.  Then one of J's Laotians (people of Laos) friends

Sidebar: one of the things I love about J is that he has friends of every different nationality/creed/religion etc.   Laotian, Mexican, African-American, believers, non-believers, I just love it!

friends came over, and brought his kids, and then there were even more shenanigans with more kids.  To stand back and watch it really was awesome just to see kids being kids.  Yes, there were some war wounds (kitten scratches, horse nips, dirty jeans, etc), but no one remembered that part the next day  ;-)

Rough Ground?

So I really don't mind swathing....except if its planted grass (alfalfa, CRP, etc) or the ground is harder than concrete.  Well lucky us in central Kansas have been in a drought so the ground is uber-hard.  Pair that with planted grass and me and Sally are in for a bumpy ride.  And I mean bumpy!  J is nice enough to warn me whether the field is a 1 or 2 sports bra needed field.  And I'm not even blessed in that department!  One of my other farmwife friends said the same thing "well at least we're both small girls--not that that helps much--LOL."  Its like riding one of those crickety wooden roller coasters over and over and over and over again.  You just hope the ride will come to an end, but then you turn the swather around and see you're only half done.  I would almost rather ride in a combine than in the swather across rough ground.  Schwoo!

I gotta go...ice my knees..and ice my drink!  LOL

Experiencing Life in the Corners

So last year I was driving and noticed a lot of the fields had this cut-out part on the corners where another crop was being grown.  So I asked J about it, and he laughed, and said its an irrigation center pivot.  The farmer will plant something else in the corners where the water can't reach.  Interesting.  Below is a picture of what it looks like for my non-farm friends  :-)

So I love going to museums and learning new stuff; whereas I don't know if J had ever been to a museum before I met him.  So one day I'm saying we need to go do something, like go to the Underground Salt Museum.  He kind of hmm-haws around because he gets stuck in a rut with the things he normally does.  So I decide to try out some farmer talk!  J you are like a center pivot, sometimes you need to experience life in the corners once in a while  :-)  Of course he laughed, but now its something we say when he steps a wee bit out of his comfort zone and experiences something new.  And the museum was really cool, and he enjoyed it!

Cheers to experiencing life in the corners!

Plans Change

So I want to dedicate this blog to all of my farm wife friends, they are an amazing group of women, and have truly taken my green hand year in stride with all my crazy stories and foibles.

One common thread throughout their stories is that none of them (including me) dreamed they would end up on a farm and married to a farmer.  However, the Big Man has other plans and sends these dashing, dirty, steadfast, wonderful men into our lives that lead us down another path.  I don't think any of my friends dreamed as a little girl, I want to live out in the middle of no-where, pull calves while my husband is at his "real" job, fix broken equipment, do laundry in mud boots between cow feedings, fix fence, haul hay, and a myriad of other fantastic activities.  If there is a girl out there that pines away on this farmer star to shine down on her and make all her unknown dreams come true, please tell me, I will break her out of her romantic notions of what country life is like. 

However, most are generally happy, why?  Because in all of them runs a thread of hardworking, getting the job done, and witnessing little miracles every day. 

The Summer of Wood

So all summers seem to have a theme, and this summer was no different.  As I was piling wood into the Batmobile yesterday I had deja vu, that I had done this before and I had--lol.

The first load was a bunch of branches that were littering up the pasture and just laying around.  J said he would get to it, but with farmers "getting to it" could be anywhere from 2 months to 2 years from now, and it was just too nice outside to be indoors, so out I go.  I loaded up two loads with the Batmobile of branches!  Cleaned up a bunch of broken cement and stacked logs that I couldn't physically lift into the truck.  The pasture looked a lot better!  And I think the cows were happy they didn't have to step over all this stuff anymore.  :-)

Then about a month ago, I was headed to the shop to talk to J and his Dad, and went through the backyard gate.  Well most people don't even know we have a backyard gate because its so camouflaged by low-hanging trees and brush that needs removed.  So I get wacked in the face with a low-hanging branch, and march my happy a** into the shop looking for the hand-loppers to cut that thing off.  J sees the look on my face (the look of that thing is going, not later, not when you say you'll get to it, but now), and says don't be starting a pile of branches in the yard.  Oh I won't--LOL.  Then we start chatting and I realize that all the little saplings and small trees need to be removed.  So on a cool morning, out I go, and look what a job I did; Paul Bunyan doesn't have anything on me!  LOL.

Then one day I was out riding on the tractor feeding cows with J, and he looks into the pasture and goes, yeah one of these days I need to get some loppers and get these small trees out of the field.  Ummhmm.  So I go out one day and do it.  I kid J sometimes, what are you going to do, when all the stuff on your "I need to do that someday" list is gone.  LOL.


Our barn had blown down earlier and the spring, and we've been having various work parties to get this thing taken down.  Well this last weekend we put the "labor" in labor day, and the trusses were taken down and good wood was thrown in a pile for future use, and bad wood was thrown in a dump truck to get hauled away.  So yesterday, me and the batmobile make two trips of the good wood, moving it from the corral to another barn for storage, schwoo!!

Cooking with Barbie

So most of my friends know this, but for those of you in the blog-o-sphere, I love to cook.  I love to bake even more.  Maybe its the chemistry of it all, I don't know.  Which I loved chemistry in high school!  Maybe I'm a cross between the mad-scientist and Betty Crocker.  Hmmm.  Well the other day my Grandma asked me what I loved to cook or bake best of all.  I really don't think I had an answer to that, I still don't think I do.  My BFF says I could have made it through the depression because I just use whatever is on hand to make a meal.  No running to the grocery store to pick up some random ingredient, especially now that I live out in the boonies where the grocery store (awesome that it is), carries the staples, not a full-line of goods.  Even J didn't notice last month when I was stretching my Wal-mart trip for as long as possible.  All because I just use what I have.  No fancy cookbooks, I don't watch foodnetwork, and no one really wants to see me cook.  Its better just to enjoy the meal in front of you and not think about what the mad scientist put in it.

Example, the BEST sloppy joes I have ever made were all leftovers!  LOL.  We had had a labor day party (last year), and there was a bunch of burgers (cheese and plain), hot dogs, bacon, sliced vegetables, I really don't remember all what was left.  But, all I did was throw all that sh*t in a blender, then put it on the stove to heat, put it on buns and they were delicious!  J and his best friend said they were the best, and what was the brand of mix I used?  Hmmm.  It wasn't until a week later or so, when J asked what happened to all the leftovers I told him.  Oh well, they were the best, try it sometime--you won't be disappointed.

Playing Chauffeur

So one of the untold fantastic jobs of being a farm wife is playing chauffeur.  Taking J down to the field, picking up, following behind, driving to the pick-up, to go pick-up the semi, to drive back to the field to get the combine, etc, etc etc.  It's like this never ending battle of moving bodies to where the equipment needs to be, or moving equipment to where the bodies are.  (Kind of depends on how you look at it).  Well sometimes I drive my own vehicle, which I really don't like to do, because some of these roads are treacherous for my little SUV.  Sometimes I drive J's big truck, more often than not, I get to drive the Batmobile, this little POS blue ranger.  See the pic below.  From the pics it really doesn't look that bad, but let me elaborate.

First its the smell, it doesn't have AC, so its smells like a mix of a boys locker room, diesel fuel, and funk.  If its been sitting in the sun for a while, the smell just roasting away in the heat, when you open the door its like a wall hits you.  Ugh.  Then the power of this truck.  I'll have it to the floor in 4th gear, flip into 5th, hear those 4 cylinders purrr, and reach a riveting 50 mph.  This thing is not winning any speed races.  The brakes are also a little iffy, so you have to stop, give yourself some space if you don't want to hit something. 

Why is it called the Batmobile?  I don't know, J is really tall and lanky and seeing him driving this thing, all you see is knees and a baseball hat.  His his legs just don't seem to fit in there quite right.  Maybe its like the Batmobile, that you have to crawl down into it, I don't know.

Dennis the Menace

So we have this bull calf, which I named Dennis.  Why you ask; because he is a menace!  And he is a bull calf and not a steer, somehow he missed the cheerio that would take his hoohoo away.  So Dennis is pretty bull-headed, in fact I think he puts the "bull" in "bull-headed."  Dennis believes in the philosophy that the grass is always greener on the other side and pokes his little head outside the fence and grazes away.  I would say I run him in at least every other day.  He too knows my voice like all the other little creatures around here, but instead of a loving "Dennis" its DENNIS!  Kind of like those 8-10 year old boys that never listen, yeah that's him.  He knows my car too, so if he sees my driving over with my car, he knows its time to get back in.

Well one day this spring, I was headed to church, and what do my wandering eyes should appear--Dennis!  Oh Dennis, I'm running a little late, get in!!!  So I turn the car and get him to go into the pen.  Well I start to head up the drive and I'm looking in my rear view mirror and that little sh*t has his little hoof on the fence just waiting for momma to leave.  I give my car a little gas, he starts to put his head through.  I give a little more gas and start to turn, and out he goes--home free--mommas gone!  Fat chance little Mofo!  I flip my car around and I'm yelling at him all the way back down the drive.  I think he could tell I was a little pissed at this point.  So I run him back in, and make sure he's at least halfway into the pasture before finally driving away.  Rrrr!

Then a couple of months ago, I let the dogs out, and what do I see, Dennis!  Only this time he's in the hay barn, helping himself to some delicious little hay.  I'm running across the yard, yelling at him, DOES THIS LOOK LIKE FURR'S CAFETERIA ALL YOU CAN EAT FRIDAY NIGHT BUFFET?!?!?  GET YOUR BLACK A** BACK INTO YOUR PEN!!!!

And people say we need kids!  They've obviously never had a bull calf.

Anyways here he is, I wouldn't say he's cute, and I'm not going to miss him when he goes away to stock a meat counter somewhere.