While this blog has been fun, It will soon be gone. Not so much gone, I guess, just relocated. In order to get more options with a dedicated server, this blog will be at http://www.saltcreeklife.com/blog/. You can check out the progress there. Be careful, a lot of construction going on. Save that link!
Honey Bunches on the town.
Due to rain, breakdowns, and other unforseen circumstances, no hay was mowed this week. This seems to have worked out well as they are calling for rain again tonight. It also allowed me to do something I get little chance to do, take my wife out on a weekend.
Ads on the radio described festivals going on in our area. The “summer fiesta”, “strawberry festival”, and the “steak festival”. “STEAK festival”! “Throw on some fancy duds”, I tell Honey Bunches, “We are goin to a festival”. Of course she agrees. Poor woman trusts me too much.
As we arrive, I know there will be vendors and food booths, but I assume there will be a steak theme. I am wondering where to buy the best steak poster, who has the best steak sandwich, and if I hit the round steak with 3 darts do I win a porterhouse? We walk around and see very little evidence of my favorite food group… Steak. We get a burger.
Honey Bunches looks through the vendors purses, jackets, and quilts. Not being particularly fond of John Deere fabric patterns, she finds nothing she has to have. I have meanwhile found a tractor pull. It’s not steak, but it is something! “C’mon sweetie”, I plead excitedly. She follows me cautiously, knowing once again I am headed for an activity much better suited for us farm boys.
I see several neighbors pulling for bragging rights. “Beat ya by 6 inches”, one prodded another. There were farmall H’s and M’s, a few Johnny Pops, and even a Minneapolis Moline thrown in for a yellow flash. Most of them being farm tractors, there were no flames or flying dirt, just old tractors tugging along at 2 miles per hour. Honey Bunches and I watch the slow parade for about 2 hours. She was getting restless so I decided to let her off the hook and head home. “Thanks for taking me out tonight”, she says graciously. I apologize for the slow evening and vow to make it up to her.
The next morning I scan the paper looking for something more exciting to entertain Honey Bunches. Just when I had given up all hope, I find It. “Get yer fancy duds on sweetie”, I say triumphantly. “What did you find?” she asks. “Only 18 miles away”, I say excitedly, “cow chip bingo!”
Dr. DooLittle, I Presume?…
“How do you get those cows to do what you want”, Honey Bunches queried. “Its all body language”, I explain. She presses me, “You mean you see what they wanna do and use that to your advantage?” “Not exactly”, I say. “I carry a big stick, if they get rowdy, I show ’em some body language!” Of course, I was teasing her. She was pretty close to the truth in her analogy. She is just a little mystified by the fact that I talk to everything.
I wasn’t aware of my conversations with inanimate objects until Honey Bunches pointed it out. She originally thought it was cute. Luckily this got me married instead of institutionalized. Now, she is starting to wonder. “Who is out there,” she will ask. “Just me and the truck”, I reply, “Come on truck, you can start now”.
I watch the cows pushin the fence, “You better get away from there, you dang cows”, I holler. In my mind they hear me and are just ignoring me to be annoying. In reality, I am pretty sure they don’t understand english, but do understand they are cows. Therefore, their interpretation would actually be, “Blah Blah Blah Blah, Dang cows”!
I talk to tractors, boats, equipment, dogs, and all kinds of wildlife. Instead of running from a skunk once, I tried communicating with him. “Ok you skunk, don’t spray me now!”
He's a scary one!
Appearently skunk hearing is akin to cow hearing and he heard, “blah blah blah, spray me now!” This particular event triggered a stern warning from Honey Bunches. “No more talking to anything but people”, she warned. “You are right honey”, I agreed, “Gonna work on my blog”. “Thats great”, she says.
I type along happily until my internet signal fails. “Come on you stupid computer!”, I coax. “Who you talkin to”, queries Honey Bunches. “Nobody”, I says.
Facebook fallout
“Facebook! What would I do with Facebook?”, I leveled at “honey bunches”. “It’s great”, she explained, “You can connect with friends and stuff”. Not having that many friends anyway, it piqued my interest. “OK”, I resigned, “help me get going”. We clicked on this, typed on that, and the next thing you know, I am on Facebook.
As per common useage; I added friends, looked up classmates, took quizzes, checked my IQ a few times, adopted a cyber kitty, threw in a couple pics, checked my IQ again (that can’t be right). After a couple of weeks this Facebook thing seemed pretty cool.
As planting season on the farm progressed I found Facebook more annoying. Coming in grease covered after planting 40 acres, I would diligently log in and give a progress report. “About finished with corn”, I proudly posted. The next day I would get a flurry of responses of how everyone already planted a row of corn, beans, and radishes. Should I have explained it’s field corn, not sweet corn? Nah, just fed cyber kitty and got to bed. Besides had to get up early and start planting again!
When I noticed a problem with one of my peach trees, I researched and found it was “Peach Leaf Curl”. Turns out it’s an ailment that can only be treated once the tree goes dormant. I let my Facebook friends in on my plight. “Might lose a peach tree,” I solemnly post. My “friends” lept into action. I was bombarded with cyber peach trees and requests to join “Farm Town”. A window popped up and informed me cyber kitty was in bad shape. To bad kitty, time for bed. Besides might get done plantin soybeans tomorrow.
Finally got done with those soybeans. It was time for another facebook attempt. I logged on, entered my usual “Great pics!”, “They are so cute!”, and “That’s wonderful!” in the appropriate places. Must have said something right, someone said they “liked” this. I had requests to join an 80’s group, a 70’s group, a hooker group, and a group that loves boy bands. Six people I had never met wanted to be my “friend“. Someone kept “poking” me. My cyber kitty got ran over by a seriel bus. I was advised that my “friends” are fans of everything from Stretch Armstrong to just being a fan. I logged off overwhelmed and beaten.
I listen to the night sounds, crickets, frogs, distant barking, and “Honey Bunches” rattling pans in the kitchen. These things I know and understand. “You know what honey”, I call into the kitchen, “I am gonna start a blog”. “Thats great!”, she replies with some more pot banging. “How are those preserves coming”, I ask. “Pretty thin”, says she. I feel sorry for her and admit to myself its my fault. Stupid cyber peach trees!
Near miss with a flying fish
Corn is in, beans are done. I would start mowing hay, but calling for lots of rain this week. What to do? I decide to finally take up brother-in-law’s fishing offer. I send a message and before I can get the tractor out of the bean field, Brother-in-law’s Tahoe skids to a stop in my driveway with camoflage boat in tow. I unhook the bean drill while he checks over supplies, charts a course, and practices some knot tying. “I already set a trap in your pond for bait”, Brother-in-law advises. I help extricate him from some rope, pull the bait traps full of small bullhead catfish, and we are headin to the river!
At the boat ramp, we discuss the serious side of fishing on the Missouri River. We run through the checklist again; Flotation devices, “Yep”, Cutout switch, “Yep”, Beer cooler, “Of course”, Is the plug in the boat, “yep”. Its getting to be late afternoon, so we expedite our launch. Brother-in-law jumps in the boat, and I throw the Tahoe in reverse and start my patented serpentine descent down the ramp. This ramp has helpful concrete curbs. When I see Bro-in-law bounce in the air, I turn the wheel the other direction. Sploosh! He and the boat are launched! I gently pull the trailer back up the ramp. I walk back to the boat through the white smoke and inform my brother-in law his speedometer is broken. “I was barely movin”, I explain, “but your speedometer read 60 the whole way up the ramp!”
I gotta admit, Bro-in-law spent the bucks and has a nice 4 stroke outboard. We careen up the river, holding our hats with tears running in our ears (heard a song like that somewhere…). Every so often we set jugs and lines until we are almost out of bait. Then, at the back side of a wing dyke it happens.
An Asian Carp (invasive nasty fish) flies 10 feet in the air and lands in the back of the boat! With a flip of his tail, I see both the plug and the carp arching to the middle of the craft. Three or 4 more flops and the flotation devices are in the river. Wedged between the side of the boat and the beer cooler, the big headed carp intinsifies his attack. Simultaneously Brother-in-law and I dive from opposite ends of the boat to save the beer cooler. “That was close!” we agree. We limp back to the boat ramp and then home.
Honey bunches is amazed by our heroic recitation of the trip. At least she said she was. All we had to do was go back in the morning and run our lines. To our disappointment, all we caught was a 3 pound flathead… until the last 10 hooks we set on a trotline that evening. On that line we pulled in almost forty pounds of catfish. What can I say, Asian Carp are good bait!
Try and get away now!
Fingernail Brushes and other unnecessary things
After we married, I told my wife “Honey Bunches”, I needed a fingernail brush. (If you have read some previous posts, you may have noticed I am from the country and she is decidedly not.) “Where do you find them”, she asked. I had always grown up with a few around. Are they endangered now?! I wouldn’t know where to look either. Is there a fingernail brush section at Wally World?
rub a dub dub
I still don’t know, but I do know my wifey found one somewhere.
She was unaware of the cleansing power of that little brush. Often, I am sent to the cleansing station (bathroom) when I have been working on greasy equipment, fighting cows, playing in the mud, etc… I emerge squeeky clean and ready for civilized living. The energy required to keep a farmer clean was thrust upon Honey Bunches today.
I return from bean planting and am quickly informed pulling weeds stains her fingers. Appearently dirt and other irremovable stuff get on her hands. I ran some hot water in the clawfoot tub. As if tricking a cat into a bath, I stand behind the door,”come here sweetie” I call convincingly. Like a cat who is being tricked into a bath, she peers cautiously into the bathroom.
After some soap, hot water, and some serious scrubbin, her hands are clean, but pink. Appearently apricot and sugar scrubs are no match for farmin dirt. Old fashion brushes work wonders. I think she is surprised. Like a cat, she retires to the couch to admire her clean paws.
The to-do list
Today started as usual. Lots of plans and aspirations for to-do list shortening. The to-do list is a fictional character and only exists in my sub-conscious. Things I need to do, should do, can’t get done, the ying and yang of my daily life. Of course, by the end of the day, the to-do list had developed a mind of its own.
Goals for today; Move bull, catch weaning age calves, clear dirt from around terrace tiles, push fallen tree from bean ground, remove loader, get ready to plant beans tomorrow, call hay baling guy so can start mowing hay after bean planting, call corn haulin guy so can start emptying bin… “Thanks ,to-do list, I will get right on it!”
Actual day; Put loader on tractor, move corral to other pasture, set up corral, push dirt in terraces, break hydraulic cylinder on loader, take broken tractor back to machine shed, get text message from brother-in-law requesting I go fishing, catch cattle in corral, sort out cows leaving bull and calves, try to keep bull from jumping out of corral with stick, run to get trailer before bull gets out, recieve text from brother-in-law asking why I can’t go fishing, get cattle trailer, change flat tire on trailer, load bull in front and calves in back, drop off calves,
You lookin at me?
take bull to new bunch of cows, remove broken cylinder from tractor, another text message from brother-in-law “can I go fishing tomorrow”, call baler guy and tell him I have no idea when I can start mowing hay, skip callin corn haulin guy… too late.
I give up on the to-do list for today. I have already doubled its content for tomorrow! Back at home, I have a good meal prepared by Honey Bunches. She tells me my cows were eye-ballin her today. She thinks they only like me because I am a man. Maybe it’s because I brought the bull over! Time to work on to-do list for tomorrow…
Text brother-in-law, inform him I might go fishing, ask later.
Weenie roast
Summer is officially here. We recently tore down a barn next to the house. All of the good lumber was hauled away and probably recycled to make someone else a profit. I get the crumpled pile of rotten timbers no one else deemed worthy. Thats fine with me, weenie roast materials!
Since the lumber was all confined within the old foundation, I lit ‘er up. The fire was pretty, hot, and big! Once the blaze calmed down to blow torch temperature, the cookin began. Weenies were roasted to perfection. Marshmallows were toasted to different degrees of blackness. There was drinkin, singin, and dancin, until mom went home. She is a marshmallow party kinda gal.
As I prepare for bed, the fire is dwindling. I have lots to do tomorrow. More bean planting before the rain comes. It was a nice evening though. Luckily I have strategicly placed brush piles to last through the summer.
Salt Creek 