Flurry, Snow Squall, or Just Annoying

It was the end of the day on Friday and everyone in the Genuine Faux Farm household was feeling tired.  And, by everyone, I mean Rob and Tammy.  Bree was simply happy that the humans were sitting still so that she could perch herself on a human's lap.  We were indulging in watching a video after eating dinner and I found that I was a bit trapped with Tammy laying down and putting feet in my lap and Bree sitting on Tammy's feet.

I happened to look out the window and I saw this squall line to our west.  We have certainly seen these before in prior years, so it wasn't entirely new.  But, they can be pretty dramatic - especially if the sun is pretty low in the western sky and it gets blocked by the rapidly moving flurry of snow.  It looks pretty surreal when sunbeams peak through a few cracks in the wall of clouds and snow.

But, I was stuck, so there wasn't going to be a chance to take a picture.  And that's fine.

Once the clouds got to us there was a few solid minutes of horizontal snow that rapidly covered surfaces and made little "ticking" sounds as individual flakes hit the window pane.  Once the show was over and Bree and Tammy were willing to move, I got up and recorded a picture or two.

I think many (but not all) who live in Iowa might agree that snow is actually welcome to cover some of the bleak winter landscape.  But, in my mind, it is a whole different matter when the grass has greened up as much as ours has over the last couple of weeks.  The contrast was actually quite beautiful to see between the rich green color and the fresh white snowfall.

But, I am not sure the snow, despite the fact that it would melt quickly, was really all that welcome this time around.  Most of the time, I find that I am pretty philosophical about snowfall in April.  It happens and you need to expect it to happen.  But for some reason I have been annoyed by the recent cool weather and snow.

Thinking about it, I have been annoyed when we've had nice weather days lately too because I haven't been able to get out and enjoy them.  Maybe it's not the weather, it's just me.

I'm even tempered - always annoyed.

Horizontal Snowfall

The warm weather last week had us all thinking very strong Spring-time thoughts - and I'm not just talking about the humans in the room.  Our Farm Supervisory Crew (Inspector, Soup and Murphy) were less than overjoyed by the weather on Sunday that started with strong, cold winds and a temperature that was not much over the freezing mark.  The hens barreled out of their shelter as they normally do in the morning, but they were very much wanting to be inside by the time we got to mid-afternoon, when the winds really got going.

It is mid-April in Iowa, so temperatures and weather like this is certainly not out of the question.  As a matter of fact, I can only recall one season that didn't tease us like this with nice warm temperatures before opening the door for Old Man Wynter at least one more time.

The plants that normally begin to show up in early Spring have been very patient this year - moving very slowly as if they knew something was up.  But, like the rest of us, they couldn't help themselves.  While we were getting used to doing chores outside without gloves and less than three layers of clothing, the Daffodils, Surprise Lilies, Bluebells, Lungwort and other similar plants sprang up from the ground and even started.  We even had one daffodil open up on Sunday morning - in time to be encased in snow and ice.

The wind encouraged the snow to stick to vertical surfaces and wedged flakes in the crevasses that could found in bark and the sides of buildings.  A small hole in one outbuilding resulted in snowflakes fluttering down on me as I was attempting to do work with the mistaken belief that the snow would not reach me there.  It often amazes me how well some strong wind and a little snow can illustrate for me that there are some things that need repair that I hadn't considered to be all that important only hours before.

Even our Indoor Supervisor, Bree, could sense that the winds had changed (so to speak).  The windows that had been open in the days prior were now securely closed.  The temperature in the farm house was a bit lower than it had been for several days in a row.  

All of the signs pointed to finding good places to take catnaps.  If she could take them where the humans were, all the better.  Initially, near the humans was a good option.  But as the day wore on, this changed to being ON the humans.

I guess we said we wanted a lap cat when we brought Bree and Hobnob home, didn't we?

We know from past experience that the Lungwort and other similar plants will survive this cold snap and the snow.  They might be set back a little bit, but they will continue to bloom and the temperatures will rebound.  But, on Sunday (and Monday) they shivered with the rest of us and wondered if perhaps returning to their winter naps might be preferable to what they were dealing with in this moment in time.

Of course, I couldn't help myself.  The reversal in weather conditions after so much of the plant life had decided it was safe to emerge and maybe even flower grabbed my attention and my imagination.  I grabbed the camera and went out to see what I could capture.

Then after a couple of shots I went back in and grabbed my coat.  Yes, Spring often requires that we be prepared to make adjustments.  Even if we would really rather not do so.

The Magnolia blossoms were pretty certain the time was now and they were swelling rapidly last week, only to stall and "freeze" in place as the snow flew.  There was even one bloom that had opened about a quarter of the way.  It was still holding the same shape throughout the snow on Sunday and into Monday.  It was almost as if it heard the March Lion roar and it stopped moving in hopes that it wouldn't be seen and be spared from a mauling.

The forecast is calling for some nicer days in the near future - and by nicer I mean, warmer than this.  But, we won't be going back to 70s and 80s for temperatures for a while.  Perhaps that will be a blessing for us?  Maybe the blooms will unfurl a bit more deliberately and the greenery will reach to the sun a bit slower than it had been doing.  It could actually give us a chance to appreciate Spring at a pace that we can handle, rather than jumping directly to Summer.

Whichever way it goes, we'll do our best to participate and appreciate.

Walking with Tears in the Eyes

I will readily admit that Tammy and I have not been getting our "walk there agains" in as much as we probably should of lately.  There are a whole list of reasons.  Some of them are reasonably good and others are much less good.  It's just the way these things are sometimes.  But we did manage to take a short walk this past weekend at Sweet Marsh, near Tripoli.

It was one of those days where the weather looked much more pleasant than it felt.  That might explain why we... ok, mostly I... didn't quite prepare ourselves for the cold wind that hit us as we walked on the dike.  At least we brought the camera this time around.

Priorities... right?

We're in that time of year where it is easy to make a bad guess about how things are going to feel after you've been outside for a while.  To give you some idea, much of Sweet Marsh was open water prior to the most recent cold snap.  There wasn't much open water remaining when we took this walk.  My mind was taking visual clues of blue sky and sunshine and putting visions of a pleasant meander with my best friend.  I ignored the visual clue that was the reading on the thermometer.

The problem with some of the visual clues this time of year?  Well, there aren't any leaves to tell you there is a breeze and it takes much more wind to blow the naked branches of the trees and bushes around.  Even the rigid corpses of last year's grasses need a bit more wind to move them and to send a telegraph to my brain that the air is moving a bit.

I probably should have taken the hint from the Red-winged Blackbird that decided it didn't feel like singing OR scolding us as we walked past.  It probably didn't see us there because, like me, it had tears in its eyes.

The temps were on the colder side and the wind made it sharp enough that my eyes decided the best reaction was to fill with water.  That can make it difficult to see where a person is going.  And, I guess it makes it hard for Red-winged Blackbirds to know that there are humans near by that need to hear from them.  This is assuming, of course, that birds have tear ducts.

Canada Geese, on the other hand, don't need much of an excuse to make noise.  Perhaps they had a little shelter down by the water that we (and the Red-winged Blackbird) were not enjoying.  I did notice that there was some open water by the shore.  Or, more accurately, I saw water in front of me and pointed the camera at it.  It could have been my own tears providing the illusion that there was some unfrozen water over there.

Once I got the picture off the camera, I got my proof that there really was some open water.  That's a relief.

There was a duck mixed in with the geese, but I was too slow getting the camera ready.  Why?  Well, I did tell you I wasn't fully prepared, didn't I?  

Not having gloves means my hands got pretty cold.  Cold hands don't get lens caps off quickly and efficiently, dontcha know!  It also makes it harder to wipe the tears away from my eyes so I could see the things I might have wanted to take a picture of.

We did come across a pair of Sandhills that decided they wanted to stand on the dike in front of us.  They warned us off with their croaking calls.  But, being obstinate humans, we just stood there - letting both the cranes and the geese serenade us with their warnings.

There was some temptation to get the longer lens out, but that's for days when your hands aren't already a clumsy from the cold.  And, of course, there was no telling how long the cranes were going to tolerate us.  So, we made do with what we had.  After all, the only reason for taking the picture was to document the moment where we were told to turn back by a couple of large birds.

Eventually, the pair decided they'd had enough of us and they flew off, their calls echoing as they went.  We decided we had also had enough, so we turned back ourselves.  As we passed the Red-winged Blackbird's tree, we noticed (after I wiped more tears from my eyes and onto my clumsy, cold hands) that bird had also moved on.  It was probably berating itself for letting an opportunity to sing or scold humans get away from it.

That's ok.  I'm sure we'll come back and give that bird a second opportunity - and I'm sure it won't miss its chance this time around.

At the Crossroads of Spring and Winter

Yesterday was a typical "early Spring" rainy day.  There is still frost in the ground, so the puddles were bound to form more quickly as the soil resists absorbing the moisture.  The only hints of green that I was able to discern came from the moss on the oak trees.  By this time of year, even our evergreen trees are less green than they are for much of the year.  Their color has been dulled and they exhibit a bit of brown and yellow.

The grasses are not yet ready to come out of dormancy and some of the plants that have emerged are still nestled in the residue of plant matter from the past growing season.  I've noticed that daffodils and crocus have broken the surface of the ground, but they aren't quite interested in exposing themselves above the leave litter and mulch that we are keeping in place for a while yet.

We are at the crossroads between seasons.  There are still crisp, frosty days in sight.  Many of those days are certainly behind us, as this picture illustrates - but they could also still make an appearance in our future.  This is my yearly reminder to all of us that we've gotten measurable snow as late as May 4 on the farm since we have been here.

Ahead of us are also days that hold the awakening of our trees and perennial plants.  Already some of our birds are returning and speaking to us of nests, tasty insects, gentle rains and a new generation soon to arrive.  But yesterday, they were more interested in shelter than conversation.

For now, we stand at the crossroads.  It is here that things are brown, muddy and, frankly, difficult to love.  As a farmer, we often refer to this time as "mud season."  It's too early to do many things and too late to do others.  It's a crossroads that we stand at, preparing and waiting to begin our journey down the path of Spring.

The redemption for this time lies in what we can see from here.  We can still see the beauty of a hoarfrost on the trees and we can also sense the impending promise that Spring always provides.  While things may not seem attractive today, we cannot and should not miss the beauty that surrounds us at the crossroads.  This beauty comes from the great value that preparation for change has in this world.  Not every moment is glorious and invigorating.  And, just because these moments are not those things, it does not make them any less important - and any less valuable.

So, while you and I might not identify these days as our favorites, we still need to respect the process and remember that things that are important and necessary have no requirement to also be attractive to us, as human beings.  There are others on this Earth that find things beautiful that we do not, and for reasons that we can't fathom.  That's where I find value for this world at the crossroads.

Days Like This

Well, Monday was, as they say, "a day."  To fully get the effect, one has to say "Monday was a day" in a voice that implies sarcasm, resignation and weariness all at one time.  It was the kind of day that leaves a cat, like Bree, exhausted to the point that she is sleeping where she is, but is not exactly in the most comfortable of positions (for a cat).  And, as far as the human goes, it was leaving me feeling paralyzed and incapable of doing even the tiniest of tasks.

So, I sat and looked at the cat while it slept.

Bree simply was not feeling well on Monday - and I had the mess near my office chair to clean up to prove it.  Hey, just because she's a cat, it doesn't mean she can't feel ill and get sick.  I think we tend to forget that our companion animals (and our farm animals) can also have good and bad days from both physical and mental standpoints.  Case in point, I got to deal with a (mostly) dead chicken in the hen room today.  Probably an accident from an attempt at flying.  This kind of thing happens - but that doesn't mean I like doing what I was forced to do at that point.

It seemed to me that people I interacted with today were also not their best selves.  Can this sort of thing be contagious?   I do know that one person can actually help change the mood of a group OR that one person could send everyone into a spiral.  So, I guess it shouldn't be a surprise if one issue might be compounded by other issues.

My observation for the day was that most people were falling back on their base tendencies more than usual - without checking themselves as they interacted with people who land on the other end of each spectrum.

The extroverts spoke quickly and often, inserting themselves into every silence.  Those who have task-oriented personalities were driving the agenda forward quickly, trying to get to the bottom of the list.  Those who had personalities that seek to avoid confrontation, might have felt the ripples of discontent, but they went along with everything because there was no desire to stand in the way of progress or those who felt moved to speak frequently.  And the introverts, who often wait patiently to be invited to speak and will not interrupt - even when they are supposed to be talking - decided they should fade into the woodwork.

The people who like straight lines were forging ahead while those who like to squiggle spun figure 8's and other loopy figures.  These two personality traits started at the same place, but I'm not sure they met at any point after that.

It was no one's fault in particular.  It just seemed like people were "off."  And I blame Daylight Savings Time for it all.  I even blame DST for the issues with the chickens and our Indoor Farm Supervisor (Bree). 

So, have you all given more consideration to some of my options regarding Daylight Savings?  After a day like this one, I'm more serious about getting rid of it than I usually am - and that's saying something. 

Hey, if you want more arguments - consider this offering by Northwestern Medicine that points to research that show an increase in heart attacks, strokes, injuries and fatal auto accidents, depressive episodes, and even colitis.

As I was considering all of this, I came across this item by Last Week Tonight with John Oliver.

I was, of course, a bit surprised that people think DST was something that was created to help the farmers.  If anything DST is a hindrance to farmers - especially if they farm like we have at the Genuine Faux Farm.  

You see, chickens, cows, and other farm critters take their clues from the rotation of the Earth, not the time on a clock.  Sun's up, so it's time to be doing.  Sun's down, so it's time to consider sleeping.  I've noticed the plants are much the same way.  The only thing that changes is the construct farmers have to deal with IF they have to interact with other human beings.  

You do realize that we suddenly have to change when some of our chores and other work falls in our day because we have to abide by the societal agreement that tells us when 4:30 pm is (for example).  Yeah - DST was NOT for the farmers, you can count on that.

And there you have it - my rant for the day, courtesy of Daylight Savings Time grumpiness.

Here's to a better day.

Frosty Perspectives

Every time we get rime ice from freezing fog or hoar frost after a cold, clear night I get tempted (along with everyone else) to get the camera out and capture the "perfect image" that portrays the beauty nature provides.  It just so happens that we have had numerous opportunities this January so we can do our level best to do just that.  It's been several years since we have had this many foggy nights in a row in January, so the rime ice has been a regular occurrence.  

I will admit that the weight of dreary day after dreary day gets to me after a while, so it's a good thing that the rime ice is around to amuse me.  Unfortunately, rime ice isn't as showy when the sun never peaks through - but I still like it.

That said, I was able to take some close-up pictures that allowed me to blow up sections and crop around areas that really show off the crystalline features.  I am often amazed by the intricate designs that show themselves when you get just the right angle.

We did get one opportunity for recording the results of a hoar frost this month and I was able to get a few pictures then as well. 

I sometimes find myself taking pictures that I know I can't frame very well.  I am hopeful that I'll capture some phenomenon that I can explore later by blowing up the image and searching for something special.  It's kind of like going on a secondary treasure hunt.  The first treasure hunt was being outside looking at the beauty of nature and discovering things that might be worth exploring more.  The second treasure hunt is looking to see if I can see things I might not have had a chance to really see - for whatever reason.

That doesn't stop me from enjoying what I am seeing at the time.  And it certainly doesn't stop me from staring at the frozen memory that comes in the form of a picture I was fortunate enough to record.

I recognize that the cold weather doesn't always feel very inviting.  I often associate the cold with, simply put, more effort to do the same amount of work on the farm.  Getting water to the poultry isn't nearly as simple as it is during the warmer months. Simply getting yourself READY to go outside requires that you put on a coat and gloves, then you have to take it all off again when you come inside.

If there is snow on the ground, carrying things becomes harder, and even if there isn't snow, there might be ice.  And if there isn't ice, the ground itself has no give like it does when there is no frost in the soil.  Just walking and breathing requires just that little bit extra in the labor department. 

And, yes, I'm not always in the mood to be out in the cold.  I'll give you that as well.

And yet... how could I possibly stay inside when there is so much wonder to behold?  Look what I would be missing if I wasn't willing to walk around on a day where I see my breath in front of me and I feel my fingers sting a little as the cold tries to take a bite out of them.

It only takes a few pictures for me to extend the interest while I am inside in a warmer environment - exploring the frozen images of frozen things.  And taking a moment to share them with you.

Have a great day everyone!

Big Job, Little Shovel - Faux Real Story

 

Every time we have a build-up to another Iowa Winter storm, I am reminded of one of my earlier life experiences involving a significant snow.  I certainly felt the energy of the impending storm, just like every other elementary school-aged child who attended public school in the Upper Midwest. 

It was exciting!  It was different!  There was a definite tension being put out by the adults that the children certainly tuned in on too.

And, hey!  It was SNOW!  And possibly lots of it.  Probably enough for a snow day away from school, which was always fun - even if you happened to be a kid that liked school.

Maybe our family was different from yours, but we often undertook BIGGER play projects on snow days - if you know what I mean.  After all, there would be a whole day to fill.  Instead of a few crayons and a couple of pieces of paper, every possible writing and drawing utensil and REAMS of paper would come out. Instead of a batch of Matchbox and Hotwheels cars in a corner of the living room, we'd put together a track with a loop-de-loop and spend hours running cars off the edge of the kitchen table onto that obstacle course.

And, of course, we could expect a good session outdoors in the fresh snowfall.  Snowforts.  Snowmen.  Snowballs.

Prior to this particular snowfall, I had received a kid-sized snow shovel so I could help Dad with cleaning the driveway.  I seem to recall that I had a chance to use it a bit before the "big storm."  And, I am certain I had an outsized idea as to exactly how much "help" I gave Dad cleaning the drive after a couple of dustings or lighter snows.  It felt good to have the feeling that I had contributed and it was nice to be able to do something with him.

Flush with success on prior snow shoveling exploits, I was ready for the "big time!"  So, when this storm came along, I was ready.

We gathered around the kitchen, listening to the radio and waited for the pronouncement that Newton schools had closed - and there wasn't much wait this time around.  There had been a fair amount of wind and the drifting was severe - even in town.

I seem to recall that Dad still had to get to work and he said something about doing the shoveling when he got back home.  Upon hearing that I piped in with, "I'll shovel it for you Dad!"  There was a slightly amused look that passed between my parents, but I think I was given an encouraging reply.

Later that morning, I bundled myself up to perform my self-appointed task.  Our house had an attached garage that emptied in the back onto a covered patio and into the driveway in front.  My shovel was on the patio, so I went out there and pushed some of the snow off the edges of the patio and out of the way.  Then, I trotted through the garage towards the pass-through door in the front of the garage.

I opened the door.

And I looked straight into a wall of snow.  

The snow was pressed up firmly against the door and held in place when I opened the door.  As I looked up, the pile more than doubled my own height.  In fact, there was only a small sliver of light where the anemic sun shone through a tiny gap between the snow and the top of the door frame.

Now what?

Having minimal snow moving experience, I acted on the only solution that immediately came to mind.  I took one shovel-full at a time through the garage out to the patio and then threw that snow as best I could into the back yard.  If any snow fell off my shovel in the process, I would return to clean it up.  After a every couple trips I would stop and stare, with growing dismay, at the snow wall that didn't seem like it was changing all that much.

After a while, some of the snow fell into the garage (not a surprise really) and I worked on taking that snow through the garage, out to the patio and into the yard.  But, my level of dismay and consternation only grew with each trip.  Almost as if the pile of worry was trying to catch up with the pile of snow.  You, see, the image in my mind told me the snow was that deep ALL THE WAY to the end of the driveway.

How was I going to succeed at a task that big?

Eventually, my Mom suggested that I had done enough and I believe I was all too willing to believe her.  The shovel got pushed into the pile of snow near the garage door and I went inside.  Relieved to have had the responsibility taken from me.

When Dad came home that night, he was greeted by the image of a tiny shovel, poking forlornly - and maybe a bit defiantly - out of the snow pile by the garage door.  It turns out that the wind had really stacked the snow up on that side of the house and garage.  It's entirely possible if I had allowed myself to just be a kid and barrel into the pile a few times I would have found an escape through the door and pushed the snow away form the house more effectively than I had with the whole effort with a shovel.

But, it was a matter of pride.  I said I would SHOVEL that snow.  

So, I did.  No cheating.  No shortcuts.  Every bit of snow that DID get moved was moved via SHOVEL.

Sometimes we measure our success in different ways.  Today, I consider this effort a success because I gave my Dad a real laugh.  And I got a good story out of it.

Snirt Alert

If you've been driving in the country around my neck of the woods lately, you have probably observed a fair amount of snirt on the edges of fields and in the ditches by the roads.  If you're not from around here or you are not a person who periodically drives in rural areas where row crop fields are the predominant feature in the landscape, then I suspect you might not know what snirt is...  until now.

All you have to do is look at the picture above.  The pile at the right is a snow drift on the north edge of our property.  Snow is, of course, typically thought to be white in color.  But, that's not true if a fair amount of dirt came for the ride as the wind blew across acre upon acre of flat ground that has very little for windbreaks or groundcover.

Our farm has very deep snow drifts on the north and west edges because we have been working to develop vertical buffer strips around our farm with trees, grasses, bushes and even brush piles. But to be more accurate, our farm has had drifts on the edges every year we've been here once we took land in the southwest and east and changed it over to diversified production with buffer strips and pathways.

Today's snirt is on our farm, in part, because of the words of Earl Butz, Secretary of Agriculture for Richard M. Nixon.  Butz called upon farmers in the United States to plant from fencerow to fencerow and encouraged individual farms to get big or get out.  I should be clear here, however, that his declaration in 1973 did not mark the beginning of snirt in Iowa and other locations.  It merely emphasized a style of agriculture that has little regard for diversity and natural processes - a style that was already gaining steam, especially after World War II.

As a matter of fact, it started when Europeans moved west across the American continent and were insistent on adapting the land to their agriculture versus adapting their agriculture to the land.

Before you think that I will now make the claim that I know the best way to be a steward of the land without a shadow of a doubt, let me disabuse you of that notion.  I am fully aware that I do not have all of the answers.  All I know is that Tammy and I are dedicated to doing our best to be good stewards that listen to the land and are willing to be servants that keep it as healthy as we are able.  That means we make the best decisions and take the best actions we can with what we know and then adjust as we learn more.

There are, however, some things I do have a pretty good idea about.  For example, all of the "recreational tillage" so many land operators partook of this fall has resulted in places like ours collecting a batch of their top soil.  It is pretty well known that excessive tillage in abnormally dry to drought conditions is a bad idea.  And, if you don't believe me, here is some information from Iowa State University that gives you some reasons why this is the case.  And if you don't believe them, do some more searching on your own, I'm pretty confident that I've got this one right.

And to top it off, most of the state still looks pretty colorful given the January drought monitor.

Before you think I am getting all "high and mighty" here - let me admit that we have made mistakes at the Genuine Faux Farm and not made the best decisions for our land all of the time.  In fact, we have, at times, taken actions that were completely the wrong ones.  And that's part of the reason why I struggle with what I observe here.

I'm not convinced that enough people are thinking all that hard about whether their actions, when it comes to the land, are the right actions.  If they did, I would think knowledge regarding best and worst time to conduct tillage would be more common - and it would be less likely that so many would run contrary to that wisdom.

This drift along the north line of our farm is as deep as six to eight feet in places - and this is after they've been reduced a bit in size.  The first two evergreens you see in this picture are both about twelve feet tall.  Most of this is courtesy of the pre-Christmas storm that brought frigid cold, high winds and ... two to six inches of snow.

I think it is safe to say that our farm collected most of the snow that fell on it.  Though, with winds like that I am sure some of it blew somewhere else.  But, my point is these drifts formed because there are miles and miles of land in Iowa that has very little to no breaks for that wind.  When the particulates - both snow and soil - finally get slowed down by a few trees, bushes and tall grasses, they land.

And pile up.

The picture above gives you a good case study.  The area to the north of Valhalla has a bush line at the property edge.  The land between the bush line and the high tunnel has some tall (ish) grass.  It is not bare ground.  You can see white snow that probably gives me evidence that our farm likely got about 3 inches of snow, maybe four during that storm.

But then you look at the drift that formed nearer the bushes and you see the snirt.  The drift here is about five feet tall and gets taller as you move away from the picture, probably getting to eight feet at the far end. 

You see, the land at our farm is capturing much of its snow, despite the wind.  And, I think that's great because we want to replenish the soil moisture.  And snow, water filtration, freeze/unfreeze cycles are all part of the natural processes we rely on to help keep our soil healthy.

And we're also importing a fair amount of snow and dirt because others are refusing delivery of their snow.  Take a good look around at the corn and soybean fields and you will find very little snow there.

I watched a neighbor applying an amendment to their fields this past week and they drove heavy equipment along the edge of their field near the road entry point.  That ground is, certainly, more compacted than the rest.  By my observation, that area has lower yields.  Just by looking at it from the road, I can tell.  I would not enter their property without their permission.

I can also tell you, by observing from the road, that their worst weed pressures are along this edge of the field.  Lower production and higher costs, all in this strip at the edge of their fields.  The economics of it alone tell me that it might be wise to seek another solution.  Perhaps a grass strip?  Or a prairie strip?  Maybe allow the fenceline by the road to be something that catches the wind.

Maybe Earl Butz was mistaken and that we need to till it all up.  

Maybe I shouldn't say anything so I can keep collecting everyone else's top soil?

Let There Be Lights!

In 2021, we were treated to an impromptu parade in Kekaha that left us smiling.  I'm sure part of the positive vibe that came from it was the simple fact that it WAS impromptu and it WAS for the locals in the town.  There was a good bit of joyfulness and plenty of Aloha that could be felt, even if we were NOT locals.

Since we were fortunate to be able to visit the west side of Kauai again over the holidays in 2022, we made a point to get to the official Waimea Light Parade.  For those who do not know, Waimea is the next town to the east from Kekaha.  

For the parade to happen, the road into town was closed starting at 5pm and was not going to be opened until much later that night (concerts follow the parade).  So we had to make a decision.  Do we go into town early and hope to find a parking spot - and then stay for the duration?  Or do we park outside of town and walk in?

Since we were still recovering a bit from the travel to the island of Kauai, we opted for the latter - and that's how Tammy got one of her first walks in during the trip.  

The Waimea Lights Parade is a popular local event.  People living on the West side bring their keiki (children) for the parade.  The parade emcees made it a point to remind everyone to watch their keiki when the vehicles came down the road.  Then, they also reminded us that we should watch all keiki and do something if a child is about to dash in front of a vehicle because the COMMUNITY takes responsibility to for the safety of its children.

I took specific note of the fact that treats were not thrown from parade floats into a scrum of waiting children - a practice that always bothered me because it favored those kids that were willing to push others aside to grab all they could.  Instead, treats were handed directly to the children by individuals walking alongside the floats.  

It was friendlier.  It was kinder.  It meant something more.  And, I liked it.

The town businesses and the park were also lit up.  There were some food vendors as well.  And, of course, there was a stage set up for the music.  The layout clearly favored those who were familiar with the town and the event itself.  There is absolutely nothing wrong with that at all.  It was refreshing to be allowed to participate in this local festival that was not catering to tourists.

It felt very much like many of the town festivals we celebrate in Iowa during the summer months.  If maybe a bit more... somehow.  

Many of the "floats" were service vehicles or work vehicles that had lights strung all around them.  There were boats on trailers, backhoes on trailers, and, of course, trailers that had a specifically designed float.  

The high school marching band performed and the state champion football team was loudly cheered.  There were people popping wheelies on bicycles that had lights on their tires.  There was a group of Volkswagon Beetles and Vans that were lit up and cruising along.  A couple of floats used a combination smoke or mist machine with a bubble machine to good effect with colored lights shining through them.

We did miss seeing the septic pumping truck that ran the streets of Kekaha last year.  Maybe they didn't enter the parade this time around?  Or maybe there is a counter-culture parade that just lights up their vehicles and drive around when they want to.  If anyone would do it, it would be the people charged with having to pump out septic systems, wouldn't it?  A job that is really necessary, but so few are willing to do it.  It takes a special person and I suspect they develop a special sense of humor.

As with all things, there were a couple of floats that were a bit annoying for various reasons.  But, it takes a variety of people to make a community.  Perhaps there were many who appreciated them even when we did not?  It doesn't matter in the end, because the feeling of the whole was positive.

And we enjoyed seeing it.

To the community on the West Side - Mahalo!

We appreciated the chance to celebrate with you.

Country Living

We live in the country, so we expect some things to be different than it might be in town.  Heck.  We expect many things to be different.  But, we find it interesting that so many people who live in town are shocked when they actually head out our way to find that some of the things we say are actually true.

For example, when we tell people who are coming out to visit that they should expect things to be a bit windier and cooler than they are experiencing in town, they often ignore our advice to bring a jacket - or wear layers - or whatever it is we suggest.

Here is one thing that anyone who commutes from one town to the next in Iowa might be able to relate to.  Blowing snow over the roadway.  In this case, the gravel road heading west from our farm.

I did not manage to catch it at its worst and I did have to crop the picture.  Why?  Well, it was COLD and WINDY and I didn't want to get FROSTBITE.  So, I just trudged out to pick up the mail and brought the camera along, then I snapped a few quick pictures and hoped I could get something to illustrate what I was talking about.

We only got a light dusting of snow on Friday - but the winds have been fierce.  I had to drive to a meeting and found myself in conditions that were approaching near white-out in places.  That's what happens in the country when everything is flat and the landscape is unbroken.

But, things really weren't too bad whenever I drove by a farmstead that had some buildings and trees.  

And that's the sad thing about all of this.  It wouldn't take much to provide windbreaks for our roadways - and it would have the effect of providing a little habitat for some of the wild things in our world.

In short, it doesn't have to be this way in Northeast Iowa.  Yet it is - for far too much of our landscape.  Let's plant some more bush lines on the far side from the road of more of our ditches.  Then, some of the less plentiful snowfalls like this last one would become less of a hazard for humans.  Sure, it won't make that much of a difference for extreme snowfall - that's fine.  But, why not have a double win of habitat plus improved safety?  And maybe something interesting to look at as you drive down Iowa roads?

What's Hot at GFF?

The last few weeks have been pretty hectic for both farmers and their respective jobs - and that's not including the things we do still have to do at the farm. 

Now, I realize it probably seems like we are ALWAYS saying that our days are full and there is a lot on our plates.  I apologize if it sounds like I am complaining - I don't really mean to sound whiny.  I am grateful that I do have so many things in which I can participate positively.  It's just that there are moments when it feels like everything needs... well everything... right now.

When that happens, it often helps if I slow down for a minute and think about some of the things that the two of us are enjoying right now.

New Wall Art!

Upon our return from Kaua'i, Tammy and I selected a few of the photos we particularly enjoyed and had them blown up and printed on canvas.  These now proudly hang on a couple of our walls.  I don't know about Tammy, but I still stand in place and look at them every so often as I pass by.  

While I do not pretend to be anywhere near a professional for photography, I know a what I like in a picture.  It adds something when we can consider the personal experience component.  We were there and experienced the place.  We know what it sounds like.  What it feels like.  What it smells like.

And, we took the photos and we selected how we would display them.  The personal touch is a good thing.

Blue Taters!

This year, Tammy and I made sure we stored away enough blue (and red) potatoes for ourselves.  Some years, we got a little overzealous with distributing our potatoes to our CSA customers and/or selling them.  Then we'd look at each other in January/February and realize we had none for US to eat.  That makes for some sad farmers in the winter months.

Well, this year, we made sure to stock ourselves up and we've also made sure to put them where it's easier for us to get them when we want them.  The result?  How about a meal of mashed blue potatoes, snow peas, cauliflower and some hamburger gravy?

Ok, you might not like it and we can respect that.  But, all of the veggies came from the farm and the beef came from another local farm.  On top of that, we used a little salt gifted us by a friend on the island of Kaua'i.  For those who are not aware, the gift of this salt is to be treasured.  So, we can add that as an extra thing we're appreciating right now.

New Stratagies!

Watch out world, Rob figured out a strategy for Splendor that may have some merit.  We're going to see how Tammy adjusts to it now that it has been unveiled.  

So, yes.  We still try to play a game nearly every day.  The default, when both of us are tired and we just need the comfort of familiarity is Wingspan.  But, we've been flitting around the new games a bit as well.  Tammy pretty much schools Rob when it comes to Parks and Rob usually walks away with the win with Arboretum.  It makes sense as each plays to the others strengths.

Splendor WAS even.  But now?  Bwahahaaaaaa!

Ok... I've actually only tried this strategy once and it worked... once.  If it fails in the future you'll never know because I won't write about it!  So there!

And, Bree still likes the bag.  I really should just zip that thing up.  But, she seems so happy....

Have a great Friday everyone!

Burst of Energy

I have to admit that I am not terribly sad to see the snow melting at the farm right now - even though it means we enter the first "mud season" of the year.  In fact, the beautiful weather this past weekend (and likely until mid-week) has given us a bit of a boost that both of us really needed.

I've always kind of joked that I am "solar-powered," typically doing better on sunny days to get things done than on cloudy days.  That may not be as true during the hottest months of the year, but it sure seems to be true when the days are shorter.  Speaking of that, have you noticed that the sun is rising and setting closer to true East and West than it has been for some time.  In Iowa, that usually means you have to adjust your eyes as you drive East in the morning or West around sunset.  So, that can be an inconvenience, but I'll take the promise of longer hours of light that it brings and run with it.

Dead Outs

We took the time this weekend to check out our bee hives (three of them) and can honestly say this is probably the first time we have been able to do that since it got really cold.  If you'll recall, the bees appeared to have a pretty good year on the farm.

Sadly, they had a pretty bad Winter.  Each of our hives is what they call a "dead out."  There were no live bees in any of the hives, but there was a fair bit of honeycomb and honey in two of the hives.  Ah well, these things happen and we'll learn for next time.

So, part of the process on Sunday once we discovered the hives had no live bees was to pull out the frames that had honey and get them into a freezer so we could go through the process of saving the honey.  You see, with no live bees and warming temperatures, that honey was going to attract some problem critters, so we needed to deal with it.

Fortunately, we have multiple freezers on the farm, so we have options.

Defrosting

Actually, the timing of all of this couldn't be much better.  You see, we had emptied two of our freezers and unplugged them a couple of months ago.  It was so cold that we didn't worry about those freezers all that much.  But, now, suddenly, we needed one of the freezers to put the frames with honeycomb into.  

I went to check the freezers and found that they were just beginning to defrost.  Wait too much longer and things were going to get a little ugly - phew!  Glad we took care of it today.

Actually, I had cleaning the freezers on my 'to do' list for the coming week.  But, it's just as well we got it today because it is easier to just take the chunks of ice and toss them out than it is to mop up the water in the bottom of a chest freezer.

One Year In

And, last year at this time, we were still in the process of turning the house into something that looked a bit more like the owners actually cared.  One year later, we're still happy when someone says the house looks good.  And, one year later, we still have some finishing touches to do on the outside of the house.  

Hey!  It's a house.  It requires maintenance.  At least we don't have scaffolding standing next to it right now.

Two Years Ago

And now I remind us all of what the farm looked like exactly TWO years ago.  Yeah.  That's the year the drifts by the north bush line got tall enough that I could stand on them and see OVER the high tunnel.  That's a good bit of snow.

I put that there as a reminder that March is actually still at least partly the purview of Old Man Winter.  Before we get too excited that Spring has sprung, we'd better give ourselves a little reality check before the temperatures fall back to the averages in about a week.  

Still, that doesn't mean we can't take this nice little shot in the arm and use the burst of energy that seems to have come from it!

Welcome Returns

We both heard our first Killdeer on the farm yesterday (Sunday) and I heard and saw one of our Cardinal friends out by the barn.  We drove down to Sweet Marsh and watched/heard some Sandhill Cranes fly overhead. And, yes, the Canada Geese had to honk at us too.

The bitter cold streak we had was pretty hard on the wildlife.  It was about two-thirds of the way through that bitter cold that I noticed a little sparrow sitting on the snow near the corner of the granary.  I expect it to fly away as I approached, but it did not.  That's when I realized that it was no longer living - frozen in a repose that it would not rise from.  

I knew the cold was breaking when the Sparrows and Juncos started exhibiting more energy.  The Chickadees started calling more often and the Horned Larks suddenly disappeared from our landscape, just a day before we heard the Killdeer's song.

Right now, I just don't see what the Horned Larks can possibly like about the weather they chase back northward.  But, they have my respect.  It takes a special little bird to find subsistence and comfort in the frozen places of the world.

And now, if you don't mind, I am going to go BACK outside.  It isn't terribly breezy and there's sunshine out there.  And maybe, just maybe, I'll hear a Robin sing and tell me it's been a good day.

One can hope.

Long Day

 Some days you just feel like the bell pepper shown below after a long day.

Sunday was the big day - the day I really buckled down to move as much as I could from the faithful old computer to this new, spiffy... annoying machine.  This has been a long time coming since I actually budgeted for and purchased the computer a while back.  But, new jobs, limited hours in the day and so many things changing found me putting this painful process off over and over again.  

Sadly, the blue screen of death has visited old faithful a few times recently and I know the signs that I cannot rely on it anymore.  That, and a couple of the keys stick.  But, I'll miss the little notch on the keyboard on the space bar where my thumbs have hit it many, many times over the years.  For that matter, you can tell what letters of the alphabet get used the least in normal English typing.  The label on those letters can still be read on my keyboard.  The common letters like "a", "s", "d", "n", "o" etc no longer have the label on them. 

Full disclosure - I was a computer scientist in a former life.  I am able to do this and I am not completely lost.  However... many of the trends for computer use and software development are leaving me behind.  Not entirely because I can't keep up mentally.  It has more to do with a couple of other factors:

1. Everything now assumes you have a constant, unlimited connection to the internet with excellent speeds.  If you don't - you have to work around everything.  And it just so happens that a large portion of rural America does not have reliable, fast internet.

2. Everyone now assumes that every individual wants to be fully connected to the rest of the world and we want all of our files on the cloud.  I don't.  Why would I want all of my files held hostage when the internet fails?  I want to work when I want to work - not just when the internet service says I can.  Besides, you can't access my personal data on the machine if I'm disconnected - so there's that too!

There are some fine pieces of software out there that you can purchase very reasonably that will move your files and even install your software for you (with a few hiccups of course - because, you know, computers).  But, these usually assume that you'll just upload everything into the cloud and then download it to the new machine.  

I'm sorry, but our internet contract would max out the data before I was a quarter of the way through the process.

Even if you do use this software, there is always a transition period where you figure out where everything on the user interface moved to.  The keys on the keyboard are a little bit different in spacing and feel, so the touch typist struggles too.  And, if you've been working with a number of software packages (some more than others), it is fairly major project just to be sure you have all of the files, settings and tools ready to go for when you need them.

I'm going to be mentally bruised for a while after this project.

Coloring Book

I've been known to doodle pictures here and there.  In fact, nieces and nephews and godchildren have probably - at some point or another - done some drawing and coloring with me.  It's a simple thing to do in a shared environment that is creative and cooperative.  And, I suppose my introverted self can interact in a safe way as well.

Well, here we are in February and I was outside moving snow after another snowfall of four to five inches.  This certainly has not been the snowiest winter we've experienced, but it sure has been... well.... white.  With the bright sunshine today it was blindingly, brilliantly white.

I am not complaining because fresh snow is quite beautiful, covering up the sins of our existence with its splendor.  But, I have to admit that I am finding photos like the one below even more attractive than usual.

I saw this particular picture as I was scrolling through old farm pictures from 2013 and it made me feel like I could take out the colored pencils or the crayolas and maybe start coloring the snow so I could change it all to Spring.  It was only a momentary whimsy, but it stayed long enough for me to recognize that I, the farmer, was actually starting to feel a little bit like I wanted Spring to come.

This is a momentous occasion because for the past few years I have been reticent to welcome Spring.  Spring only represented the beginning of the period of time where there would be work and more work, followed by... work.  I was not ready to welcome Spring when we were in February and I was just fine with the snow holding on so I had an excuse to ignore what was heading our way - that light coming towards us in the tunnel was a freight train that was the growing season.  Start running now or decorate the walls of the tunnel!

So, does this mean I am ready for Spring this year?  In terms of certain tasks - probably not.  But, in terms of having spirit that could be ready to begin the process of growing again this year - I think so.

It's a good sign that perhaps some balance is being achieved.  Or maybe, it's a sign that a different imbalance has come to be.  I'm a farmer, so the line between the two is often crossed, sometimes frequently over the period of one day.

For now, we'll call it a good sign.  After all, the snow is beautiful, the sunshine is beautiful and the green leaves with an iris is also beautiful. 

Almost made me want to get out the colored pencils so I could draw for a minute there.  But, the picture above will probably do for the time being.

Grima

Fingernails on a chalkboard.  The whine of a dentist's drill and the feeling you get as it grinds at your teeth.  The scraping sound that makes you grit those same teeth when someone drags a knife across their plate - and then making you grimace because you've just gone to see the dentist!

There are times when I FEEL like that.  In fact, this is probably a good description of my state of being for a good chunk of the last couple of days.  It's more than me not feeling quite in sync with the world, nor is it exactly feeling down - or angry - or even frustrated.  It's just... well....  fingernails & chalkboard.   Ugh!

And, apparently, it is enough of a well-known concept that there is a word that describes the combination of sound and feeling that comes with these ... um... events.  But, that word is not an English word, though it could be adopted from the Spanish speaking world.  That word is "grima" according to this BBC article, which also features some other feelings that you and I might be familiar with that are described by words in other languages.

Of course, the first thing I thought about (because this is just the way I am) was Grima Wormtongue from the Lord of the Rings.  A still shot from the 1978 animated adaptation showing their version of this character is below (and was taken from the link shown earlier in this paragraph).

Wormtongue is portrayed as a lecherous individual who would poison the minds of those around him with the intent that this would allow him to achieve his desires - in this case, controlling a kingdom and the woman he desired.

Fingernails.  Chalkboard.

Yes, we could have more discussion on this topic because it is always a bit more complicated than a few words make it.  But, let's do that at some point in time when I'm feeling a bit less like...   well...

Grima and the dentist's drill. 

Maybe this will help.  Kittens.  Kittens will help.  

Bree apparently sensed I needed a little consoling and snuggled up with me as we watched a Poirot episode this evening.  While she is no longer the little kitten you see in this picture, she does a pretty good job of turning on the cute when she wants to.

And maybe... flowers.  Flowers will help.

There is actually still one crazy Gerbera flower in bloom in my office and there is a beautiful red amaryllis in the kitchen.  We even brought in a couple of petunias and dianthus in pots that have flowers.  I have no regrets regarding this small indulgence.

And... sunsets!  Sunsets are a good thing.  I bet they help too.

You know.  There is one being that used to share his wisdom regularly with me that would know what to say when I have this... grima... feeling.  

If I share his picture - perhaps - just maybe - I'll remember some of his wise words.

"You will give me a skritch.  You will listen to my purrs.  And you will take a nap.  I, the Sandman, have spoken!"

Yeah.  That cat had it together.  

Still some grima, but the whispers in my ears have less power now.  And for some reason, I feel like getting some sleep.

Be well everyone!