My name is Linda Brown. I live on a farm on the western slope of Colorado, in the high mountain desert. I’ve lived here all my life, hailing back four generations on my father’s side. Today I blog about our farm, the everyday activities that keep the farm going. I also write about my thoughts and dreams and goals. On Friday’s I always write about TLC Cai-Cai. Our sweet kitty who helps keep the farm safe. And Boo Berry Betty, a breeder dog learning to be a Farm Dog!
The lovely thing about blogging it opens the world up for all of us to reach out and meet people from many different cultures and different ways of life. You can find me every day (but Saturday) at https://coloradofarmlife.wordpress.com/
Your Friend on a Western Colorado Farm,
Linda Brown
This looks like a repeat of the last post, but really it isn’t. The day clouded up in the afternoon and then we saw showers playing across the Uncompahgre Plateau.
We had been sweltering in the middle of the corn field hoping some clouds would come in from somewhere.
When they did they blocked the sun which cooled us down, even if the rain stayed far away.
Then the clouds cleared of the moisture
And a little wind sprung up pushing the moisture and the cooling clouds in a different direction, leaving behind
a delightful couple of rainbows!
A gift from above….clouds, moisture, the heat from the sun and the corn blocked, and the gift of promise and hope!
Nessa came ALL THE WAY FROM HOUSTON, TEXAS, just to see US!
Since we live way out in the country Mom went to town to show Nessa and her Mom the way to our farm. Fuzzy and I didn’t know Nessa was coming so when Nessa and her Mom drove into the driveway and stopped and got out…WE WERE SURPRISED!
Pleasantly so!
After supper Hank Puff and his family walked over so Hank Puff could meet Nessa for himself.
They are the same size.
We all had fun!
Nessa did really well for never having seen a farm or a ditch or a gated pipe and she didn’t even get any stickers in her fur.
Fuzzy sometimes does, but not often anymore. Fuzzy doesn’t run around like he used to and nothing sticks to my fur. Fuzzy and I were a tad bit concerned that Nessa would get stickers, but she didn’t want to go into the corn field or even get off the ditch bank road or even really leave her Mom.
Nessa did like getting a drink of really cold water from the gated pipe though.
That was cool. We stayed with her. We have manners, company always comes first.
The next day Mom, Fuzzy and I lead Nessa and her Mom off our mesa (that is where our farm is (to the road that will take her to Clifton, then on to Salt Lake City and from there to Boise and from there to Oregon). Sure sounded like a long, long, long ways from here.
Nessa said she likes riding with her Mom wherever her Mom wants to go.
Bye Nessa! Fuzzy and I enjoyed your visit very much!
After lunch we decided that we would go to Hanging Lake….a short drive out of Glenwood Springs going toward Denver.
The trail to Hanging Lake is plainly marked with a nice walking path to the trail head. We met many, many, many people either going up the 1.2 mile trail or coming back.
This is something I have always wanted to do, but we just never have. My parents did it when they were about my age, Momma was 63 and Daddy 66, they delighted in seeing this incredible natural wonder.
Several of Kelly’s friends had walked up to the lake so making the decision to go was easy.
If you are EVER in the Glenwood Springs Canyon area I HIGHLY recommend you stop, walk to the top and visit this amazing lake. The hike is free. You will not be alone as there are lots of people going up and coming down.
I took way too many photos so I’m going to only give you a tiny idea of the grandeur of this place.
There are 7 bridges and several water falls.
The two oldest grandchildren ran all the way up and all the way down. Tally walked both ways by herself, never once crying or asking to be carried.
We more than enjoyed the waterfalls
Some small and some large.
There are sign markers letting you know how far you have traveled
The closer you get to the lake the flora changes and you start to see ferns…which are rare in our part of the world.
Then suddenly you are there!
A magical world, making one think of fairies and elves and unicorns.
The water is so clear you can see the fish.
Not many people get to walk under a waterfall…but maybe, just maybe, if you are lucky you get too.
Back at the real world we were met with cars and roads and well, reality.
I encourage everyone to walk this short distance of 1.2 miles at least once in their life.
As the train would come to crossing we would hear the whistle blow…of course it would bring to mind that song by Hank Williams “I heard that Lonesome Whistle Blow…
I HEARD THAT LONESOME WHISTLE BLOW
I was riding Number Nine,
Heading South from Caroline.
I heard that lonesome whistle blow.
I didn’t trouble had to roam,
I left my gal, I left my home.
I heard that lonesome whistle blow.
Just a kid acting smart,
I went and broke my darling’s heart.
I guess I was too young to know.
They took me off the Georgia Main,
Locked me to a ball and chain.
I heard that lonesome whistle blow.
All alone I bear the shame,
I’m a number, not a name.
I heard that lonesome blow.
All I do is sit and cry,
When that evening train goes by.
I heard that lonesome blow.
I’ll be locked here in this cell,
‘Till my body’s just a shell;
And my hair turns whiter than snow.
I’ll never see that gal of mine,
I’m in Georgia doing time.
I heard that lonesome whistle blow.
Not the most romantic of views, but still exciting! But in our case it isn’t a lonesome sound, but the sound of
The Train Song by Phil Rosenthal
The train is rolling down the track,
Listen to the wheels go clickety clack,
Over the bridge, around the bend,
Taking me for a ride.
The engine’s up at the front of the train,
Pulling all the cars through the sun and the rain,
Over the bridge, around the bend,
Taking me for a ride.
When the engineer pulls the throttle down,
And the whistle starts to blow,
You can hear that sound for miles around,
And it lets all the people know,
That the train is rolling down the track,
Listen to the wheels go clickety clack,
Over the bridge, around the bend,
Taking me for a ride.
Now we sit here in the passenger car,
And the freight car’s next in line,
And way in back is the little caboose,
Rolling along behind.
And people stand by the railroad side,
And wave to us as we go by,
Over the bridge, around the bend,
Taking me for a ride.
The train is rolling down the track,
Listen to the wheels go clickety clack,
Over the bridge, around the bend,
Taking me for a ride.
Yesterday, July 27, 2012, I booked a train ride for our youngest grandchild and her family, and Aunt Shannon to go to Glenwood Springs, Colorado.
Tallen has been WANTING to ride a train….wanting, wanting, wanting.
So Terry and I thought….heck, why not!?!
We left the train station at 10:23 in the morning.
(This is the old station, but I loved the building and the charm. Too bad they don’t use it anymore.)
The trip took 1 hour and 45 minutes. Terry followed us by car—van–because the trip back was the next day. With irrigation there is no way we could spend the night, and for sure not because our irrigater (for when we are gone) was with us on the trip.
Terry put the water in a spot that must have 12 hours to get wet, off we went.
What a delightful way to travel! And cheap also…only $78 for seven of us, one way.
Blade enjoyed a short rest.
We kept track of Grandpa, but he couldn’t see us. All the windows were black to him.
Still there were hopes he would see us!
Terry said the train moved at a good clip…about 55 m.p.h. through the towns, and 70-75 m.p.h. on the countryside.
He met us as we unloaded.
Then off we went for a short stroll around Glenwood Springs and get a bit to eat for lunch.
After that we drove to the Hanging Lake turn-off for a hike to Hanging Lake.
Dad had another meeting last night so it was just Mom, I, and Boomer. We had a great time.
The sunset was beautiful.
We had to move the water from the upper end, from the hayfield, down to the corn field around the house.
The corn field around the house is well….hot! We are all ringing wet all the time and it isn’t because we are dipping in a swimming pool, let me tell you.
I sleep under Dad’s pickup truck and under the lilac bush, the two coolest spots in the house.
Boomer has decided he wants to sleep with me under the pickup truck…I told him okay, there was room enough for the both of us.
The other place Boom likes is under the garden bench right after Mom has watered her flowers right there.
The musk thistles are amazing…they are as tall as Mom. Mom says they are pretty but she sure doesn’t like having them around, especially on the ditch bank. Makes for moving water well, stickery!
Those things aren’t near as bad as cockleburs I tell her, but sometimes Mom doesn’t understand what I’m trying to say.
It took us a little while to get the water from the upper end to the house, so Boom and I played around lots. Mom worked with the water, she had a run away for a short spell….the ditch had sanded up and the weeds were a mess…she dug and dug and finally the water headed on down like it was supposed it.
Did I tell you the sunset was amazing? It sure was.
Well, not lots happening here…just watching the corn grow and the pinto beans and hay. Dad sold the second cutting of hay, every last bale of it. It wasn’t the best hay as it got rained on, but a couple of small farmers wanted it for their two cows and one wanted it for his three cows and his wife’s rabbits. Dad gave them a huge deal and they took everything down to last hay leaf. Dad said this was a win-win for everyone.
Mom is painting the inside of the house since she has everything all weeded up. We like it better when she is outside with us, but sometimes she works inside.
We go inside sometimes, but that can be hotter than outside…like when she is canning. WHEW!
Hope good things are in the picture for all of you.
This year, (because we do rotational planting —-meaning all crops are rotated from one field to the next keeping disease and bug problems down as much as possible) the corn all happened to be planted around the house and the buildings.
The heat inside of a corn field is hot and humid, corn just loves a hot day, add in the water to keep the corn growing and you have a huge humidifier!
Breezes don’t make it inside this box of heat and moisture unless we have a wind…I relish wind now…
On the flip side I love smelling the corn, so rich and full and alive. Sounds carry from far away so it seems the train (6 miles away) is right down the field. The dogs can’t figure out if they should bark or not. They mostly don’t unless someone is right at the yard, so the nighttime dog phone has rather stopped.
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And we get an up close and personal daily report on how the corn is doing, just be looking out the window or working in the yard.
Harvest for sweet corn is on….you should be seeing Olathe Sweet Sweet Corn or Mountain Sweet Sweet Corn in your market soon. If you do just know that the corn was grown somewhere near our farm!
(No we don’t grow sweet corn, we grow corn that used for feed or to be made into corn meal. Our season of growing lasts much longer than sweet corn.)
Life on a Colorado Farm 