Archive for July, 2005
July 17, 2005 – In the Canoe
One of the things we like best about this place is the fact that no motorized craft are allowed. It is the one time a year (so far) we get to play with our indulgence, our Bell canoe, lovingly named “leech.” It should last us our lives, as the canoes are works of art that are built for a lifetime.
The canoe is a composite hull, using Kevlar for lightness and graphite for strength, thus the black color, and wooden trim and seats for beauty. It is 18.5 feet long and only weighs 57 pounds and handles like no other.
The view from the bow!
Linda heartily paddling from the stern on the way back from a fishing voyage.
July 16, 2005 – Water at Last
After a stop-over in Rochester, we arrived at the cabin about 5:00. It was very hot and we didn’t waste any time getting in the water.
It was 94 degrees and windy, but turned cool the next day.
July 15, 2005 – On the Road Again
Well after a day and half of packing and readying the farm for our absence, we are off. The wheels were finished on the trailer yesterday and we’ve decided that we could stay here for days and not get everything done.
The first very short leg will be to Rochester, where I will try to get a new canoe license to replace the one that went through the wash in my shirt pocket (I new there was a reason I went out to the barn – but what was it?) We will also try to acquire audio books of Harry Potter for the 20 or so hours we’ll be traveling to and fro.
I may be able to blog from the library in Ely, then again, I may just have to catch up upon our return.
July 14, 2005 – “Sweet Winter Chickens”
Today Claire and I were up at 4 am and off to the locker. She has written about it, but I haven’t seen it yet. We got the assembly line going today cutting up chicken – breasts in bags, soup parts in bags, etc. We left a few whole, but got quite a few cut up. The new portable outdoor counter I made out of the old kitchen countertop and some old refrigerator grates worked very well – the birds could drain on the grates, and be cut up on the counter, built for tall people like ourselves. Then the meat was into the vacuum seal-a-meal.
Marty helped carry bags into the freezer telling me. “Dad, these chickens are for winter, right?” I replied, “They sure are.” Martin’s response was “These will be sweet chickens in the winter.”
July 13, 2005 – Chicken Loading
We just finished loading the chickens in all the chicken cages for transport to the locker tomorrow. It’s finally become a bit of a routine and marking of the season for us. After dark, the chickens are loaded into the crates and put in the pickup truck. I postponed the appointment at the locker a week since it seemed they weren’t growing as well in the heat. Now, however they seem very nice and plump.
About 4 am, I’ll awake and bring them to the locker, hand them to the slaughtering man six at a time and in a few minutes we’ll have dressed chickens ready to go home.
April has now figured out her job. She used to bark and flail at the chickens as they squawked and fluttered on their way to the chicken cages. Now she just watches and spends the night by the truck under the yard light, guarding the chickens all night long.
We always worry about heat this time of year. It is not uncommon to lose chickens due to the heat. Sugar Creek Farm had just such an experience (my nightmare) earlier this year.
Claire claims she wants to come tomorrow morning. We’ll wake her up and see what happens.
July 12, 2005 – New Trees Gain a Foothold
So far, so good on the new trees planted this spring. Until now, rain has been plentiful (I’m grateful I’ve only had to water once) and they’ve put on inches of new growth. Virtually all have survived. The next step is to get them through the heat of summer and through a winter to see what rodent damage may be. Next year, I’m planning on planting more.
July 11, 2005 – Vacation Preparations
The annual pilgrimage to Northern Minnesota looms. It’s a full-time job getting the farm and the family ready for the 9 days away. There’s house-sitters to find (live-in this year so all of you planning on rustling sheep, you’re out of luck).
So today was spent jockeying vehicles to and from the shop, getting all sorts of animal feed, getting gardens weeded, continued work on making the trailer and van “trailable” and continued packing. For some reason, Martin is pumped to go to Kawishiwi (It’s a lousy website for a great place). He’s been a great help dragging stuff to the hay wagon that is serving as the staging area for the stuff. We’re excited away – the cabin is at the end of the road in northern Minnesota, just a few miles from Canada.
Today Linda spent most of the day at the Leopold Center for a food systems meeting and to learn about the Farmer’s Diner, a new model of diner that takes as its premise, the best food is that which is closest to the diner. They buy most of their food from local farmers. They are working on financing for establishing franchises across the country.
July 10, 2005 – More Food for Winter
Today, Linda was the food preparation maniac. She picked and froze 10 packages of beans (we’re getting the hang of our new vacuum-packed seal-a-meal). I am probably one of the few guys in the world who was actually excited to get it as a Christmas gift!
Martin and Daddy snapping the beans before blanching.
Linda also made a batch of raspberry jam.
I was more of a sloth. I worked a couple of hours for the town job, taking advantage of the quiet as the girls and Michael are off with grandma to Maquoketa caves and the grand water park hotel and Mississippi River museum in Dubuque. I also replaced a rotten wooden post in the household compost holder. We made it in a hurry when we moved in 8 years ago out of scrap wood, and now all the posts are rotten, so this fall, I’ll have to make a new one. I also shored up the bottom of the garage door, which is starting to rot and Martin and I started gathering vacation stuff.
This morning some Brazilians came over and bought some chickens and slaughtered them here. It all went well, things were cleaned up tidy and they seemed to prefer the old laying hens over the broilers. Maybe there’s a niche there?
July 9th, 2005 – Work and Play
Today was a morning/evening of work and afternoon of play. This morning we weeded the Christmas trees and part of the garden.
Kids helping to weed.
The foreground of this garden is gladiolus and dark red are amaranth.
The kids also peeled all the apples for applesauce. Today we just peeled and froze them to make the sauce another day.
Then in the afternoon it was off to the aquatic center.
Martin enjoying the splash.
Michael and Emma moving down the waterslide.
Grandma provided birthday cake and ice cream and toppings for an early celebration.
July 8, 2005 – Claire’s Back and Linn St. Market
Today was Claire’s “graduation” from her two weeks at U of I. The director told us that they were the youngest that the university recruited and each has a $1,000 scholarship should they enroll at Iowa. I wonder if Iowa State will match it and add 10%?
Claire after the closing ceremony.
We “had” to go Prairie Lights bookstore where one of Claire’s favorite night-time events was a book reading.
This morning we decided to try to move some stuff at Linn Street Market – a place where local farmers can sell their goods year-round at an indoor venue by renting market space. We brought in some raspberries, flowers, and the first apples of the season.
Linda creating her magic in the barn arranging the flowers. We also vacuum-packed the first few carrots of the year and threw them in the freezer.
July 7, 2005 – Back in Black?
Tomorrow Claire returns from what Des Moines Register columnist David Yepsen half-jokingly refers to as the “People’s Republic of Johnson County” due to the county’s political bent. Looking into my crystal ball, I’m not sure what to expect after picking up our daughter from 2 weeks in Iowa City. Perhaps something like this?
As long as she doesn’t bring Angus Young home, we should be able to deal with whatever comes our way.
We’re debating if and what market to visit tomorrow/saturday. We’ve got flowers a-plenty and some raspberries and the first garlic, but we also need to harvest the first round of carrots and keep on the weeding, and I’m on the road for 1/2 a day.
Cousin Michael is visiting from New York (we go coast-to-coast here at high hopes – cousins from California one week, New York the next). I’ll try to get some pictures on tomorrow of Michael on the farm.
July 6, 2005 – Softball Winds Down
Emma’s softball season winds down. Tonight was the first tournament game. I was very pleased with her coach and team. There were 22 players, and each person, big or small, played the same amount. Unfortunatley, there are too many coaches out there who don’t respect each member of the team and only play their favorites, even at the elementary level.
Emma up to bat.
Ouch! Sore foot after taking a pitch on the foot.
A few miles towards town, there is an army of 7 bulldozers mowing down a hill. I’m not sure what they are up to. Preparing a building site or making 2 acres of corn field? I can’t believe 7 bulldozers working for days to “make” 2-3 acres of crop ground could even be close to economical? I’ll keep you posted.
July 5, 2005 – Knee-High By 4th of July
I don’t know where the saying came from that advises corn should be knee-high by the 4th of July. Maybe it was from northern Minnesota where I grew up and you were lucky enough to get a corn crop, maybe it is just a catchy, rhyming phrase that was valid before hybrid vigor. Around these parts, you’d be awfully worried if the corn was only knee-high, no matter how tall you were.
Martin as a measuring stick.
Where’s Waldo? (a.k.a. Martin)
We’ve had requests for some of Claire’s writings from Writer’s Workshop Camp. Here is a short piece tangentially related to agriculture. She has spent the most time and e-mail on a fantasy piece, yet unfinished, but this one will have to do for now.
It is entitled “The Wheat of Gold” inspired by two paintings in the University gallery.
The cattle were softly lowing, like some soft lullaby in the bright nighttime moonlight. Softly singing in the dark, lulling the little ones to sleep as they were comforted by a soothing, restful sound. Continuing through the night till the last had fallen into a deep nighttime doze.
But Marianne was not asleep. She was out under the full, intense silver moon. The golden crop of wheat had to be harvested before the rain came, but when the wheat was yet in its prime.
She continued working along with her husband to help tie the bundles of wheat scattered along the grassy field like stars across the sky. Shining up with a luminescent glow from above and below Marianne. The gold below, and diamonds above.
They had made a lot of progress, in the few short days they had been working. About half the hay was standing elevated above the flowing green grass, tall and strong, like the sturdy little house that had lived in since they were married, ten years ago. It stood out against the bright moonlight and just setting her eyes on the wheat made her swell with pride and she was gratified for the wonderful hard working husband she had.
The next morning Fredrick woke up in the early hours of the morning. He looked over at his peacefully sleeping wife and then got out of bed. Today they were going to have help for the final push to finish the wheat. The farmers in the area had this unspoken agreement that whenever one needed help with something they’d help. It was a wonderful little system and worked very nicely.
Fredrick peeked in the loft and saw his children, three boys and two girls, sleeping calmly with looks of tranquility and serenity on their faces. His oldest was nine, and the youngest still under a year, and sleeping in the room with Marianne. They had six children. There were originally two sets of twins but three years ago, Patrick who was at the time six, got lost in the fatal, waving grasses of the Kansas prairie. They found his body numerous days later, several miles from the settlement. It had been a heart breaking experience and he was so grateful he hadn’t lost more then one.
That afternoon, they were almost done with the hay, thanks to the neighbors and friends who had turned out to help. Marianne had never worked so hard in her life. There was barely any time to cook dinner. But no one seemed to care much what it tasted like, although they all said it was the finest they’d ever had in a long time. Suddenly she saw a dark shadow spread across the field next to the grove of cool green arching trees they were working near. She quickly looked up to find the source of the shadow. What she saw chilled her to the core. Her very soul was shivering even though the hot sticky sweat was pouring off her body droplets at a time. Huge black and gray clouds were churning with a decisiveness that no one could comprehend. The last time she had seen clouds like that was when she was visiting her aunt before she was married, and her aunt taught one thing she never forgot. The signs of a tornado.
As she thought of this, the wind picked up and she could feel the gusts of hair whipping through her hair and skirt as if they wanted to tear her up and leave her barren and disheveled.
She found Fredrick. He was the only one who could console her at times like these. As she got there, he was standing there, solemnly looking up at the sky. “There’s a tornado coming,” she shouted at him over the blustery gusts of wind. He answered inaudibly and she couldn’t hear him, but she could read his lips. He knew too. “Go get the children in the cellar,” he said. This time audibly. She ran toward the house and got the kids. She explained to them as she grabbed their little hands and lead them to the cellar. Then, once they were safe, she went and got baby Kate and took her to the basement.
She grabbed some food out of the once cozy kitchen that was now shaking with the force of the wind. By the time she reached the cellar, all of the men and women who had been helping her were in there safe. She got in and securely latched the trapdoor and waited.
An hour later, it was safe. Fredrick heaved himself out of the cellar and stared around at the vast emptiness before him. It was gone. It was all gone. The house, the barn, the fields were destroyed. They said their farewells to their friends, and then walked around the landscape that was once a beautiful haven to them. They could find nothing. They went to the fields. And in the middle, was one beautiful, heavenly, golden bundle of wheat. They walked up to it and started crying. And then sobbing, and through the tears, they knew nothing could tear them apart and as long as they had each other, they had everything. He put his arms around his wife and kids and they just stood there, for a long time.
July 4th, 2005 – Legalize Freedom!
Last week at the Art Festival I saw a “Legalize Freedom” t-shirt. I don’t usually get on my soapbox, but the recent Supreme Court decision that now allows the government to take over private property and give it to to private developers pretty much puts an end to the concept of private property rights. Wal-Mart or any other business wants a new store – all they need to do is get the city to condemn your property. Used to be they had to pay you enough to make you want to leave, not just fair market value as this ruling allows. Again, property could only be condemned for public things like roads and hospitals. Now land developers can take over under “eminent domain.”
For a neat twist, check out the efforts to build the “Lost Libery Hotel” on Justice Souter’s property in New Hampshire!
