Spring Work is Winding Down—Thursday, June 23, 2016

The header is the photo of the flat lands, our cows LOVED being up there and just hanging out. We like to go to the Rocky Point and ‘take a break’, there is something really restful about this part of the farm.

We call spring work—everything that must be done until the tractor can’t get in there anymore.  After that we just irrigate, until harvest time.

Summer work is irrigation

Fall is harvest, although, the corn harvest the last couple have years has been way into winter.  Still we consider it fall, until the corn is in.

Last-Cultivation-this-fieldThis is the last cultivation of this field—I call it the Middle Field, Terry calls it by it’s acres.

Cultivation has to stop when the corn is as tall as the bottom of the tractor’s little wheels, to try to run the tractor down after that will result in killing the growing corn.

No more tractor work on this field.  The next time something big is on this field will be the combine at harvest time.


This field has a little more growing to go, then it will be done.

BeansThe pinto beans are looking GOOD!  There is still tractor work–cultivation–on these little guys, but it will stop once the plants are bushy.  With this heat it won’t that long.


Our alfalfa hay is getting up to eight leaves.  (I forgot to take a photo of it)

StuckThen, of course, there are always those things that tend to slow ya down… (The tractor making the ditch slipped off and got stuck.

OUTIt didn’t take long to get him out.  Just a little slow down.

UnstuckThen back to the house I go!

Your friend on a farm in western Colorado 🙂


A Spot of History—Monday, January 9, 2015

Before I move forward

cows-1.jpgThe dome building behind the cows is someone’s house.  Our farm is the edge of California Mesa, then it drops down into what the old-timers call ‘No-Man’s Land’.  No-man’s-land is the flat land just before the next drop into Roubidoux Canyon.  No-man’s-land is very poor ground, not fit for good farming back in 1882 when Delta was incorporated.  Farming was hard enough in our area, although not so bad in the town of Delta and North Delta…they had water.  Water the lifeblood of man.

CowsHere you see the edge of the mesa better.  You also see more of the flat land.

Today the flatlands have been subdivided allowing people to live ‘out in the country’.  Also, water is available, which always helps any ground improve.  I could go on and on about the history of our place, but I think I will stop here.

On a sidebar note—those gigantic transmission power lines are on the OTHER Side of Roubidoux Canyon…The blue/grey is the foot hills of the Uncompahgre Plateau, and the blue is The Uncompahgre Plateau.

I’m sure I’ve bored you long enough.  I thank you for stopping by and asking questions.  I love to go on and on about the history of this area, but…enough, really is enough!

Your friend on a Western Colorado Farm,




Right on Time–Winter’s Chill–Friday, January 2, 2015

Coming-InThe Sunday after Christmas a strong winter storm made it’s way across the Utah border and onto the the Uncompahgre Plateau (Un-come-pah-gray accent on the pah). We watched it slowly fill in the canyons and draws, skimming the tops of the mesas until it started to push it’s way into the Roubidoux Canyon.  Once in the canyon it’s just a matter of a fast wind before it hits us.  We are the first mesa after you leave the canyon…you can see the flat lands below us (we are the last farm on California Mesa – just before the flat lands which drop off into Roubidoux Canyon.)

UpthereMonday morning the kids headed back in a snow storm, leaving well before the storm stopped.

By afternoon the Uncompahgre Plateau was white and we had about an inch of snow. Today we we have about and 1 1/2 inches— not a lot of snow.  But what we do have is COLD!

That typical cold, which freezes your skin the minute you head outside.  Your air puffs white and steamy as you breathe in and out, in and out.  With conditions just right you nose even freezes shut. Sure is a nasty feeling.


Boomer and I still go walking late at night.  The moon is almost full now, which allows me to walk without a flashlight—-although I do take one with me.

The air is crisp and full of sounds.  Sounds carry far in cold air…I can hear the coal train going through Delta on it’s way to Utah, I can hear the neighbors cows from over in the hollow, and the sound of cars and trucks passing way over there.


Boomer and I walk along …he smells all the news along the way, I see the foot prints…bunny, mice, birds, deer, Sammy the cat’s paw prints,  and other canine prints…dog? Coyote? Wild dog packs? Cy-dogs?  I don’t pause to decide what I’m looking upon.  Lots of our neighbors allow their dogs to roam the farms (never a good idea–a dog chasing livestock is sure to be shot).

When the chill starts to be too much we head back toward the house and the heat of the wood fire. Boomer settles back down for a long winter nap. After filling the wood stove I like to sit by the window watching the frozen world full of white/silver moonlight; the cats sit with me–Sammy on top of the sofa and Monkey in the window.  We all stare outside marveling at the mid-night beauty of ice, snow, and sparkling white moonlight.

Your friend on a very frozen farm in the western part of Colorado,