Watching the water flow into the siphon tubes and down the furrows is such a huge pleasure to Terry and me.
He, because the ground is soaking up the water; getting ready to plant.
And I for the music of the sound of the water, the little splash as it comes out of the siphon tubes, the slender melody of the bubbles unraveling from the tube
The light as it plays along the tiny ripples and splashes. Glistening brightly in the Spring air.
From my world to your heart,
Linda
I sometimes get to thinking this blog is rather repetitious
I seem to only write about the sky, the plants on the farm
My yard
Irrigating…morning, noon, night
Animals which move around in the night
And the day
The worker bee of the farm...the whole farm runs on this one person, you do understand
Sometimes I liven things up a tad
OR a daytime sighting of a typically nocturn fox
Oh, Yes, I forgot we do have the returning deer
And the joyful visit of grandchildren and granddogs
And that sweet little beagle
And that very independent cat.
Not only the work of spring, summer, and fall, the work of winter
I suppose it may be repetitious
It is our life…
Shared with you on this wee little space in time
a miracle on our tiny spot of Earth and Sky
Your friend on a western Colorado farm,
Linda
We are moving forward here…
Summer is on the horizon…almost here…temps raising to warm, hot and dry
In just weeks it will be time to harvest the first cutting alfalfa turning it into hay
The work goes on…Spring work
is constant and consistent
Terry just finished planting some of the grass fields, (he has alfalfa still to plant and one more field of grass) and he has all the cornfields planted, but one—and that one will happen on Monday.
And through it all…the irrigation goes on and on and on.
We are a tad busy, as you can see…but, Terry and I agree, It is the very best of life and of living.
Your friend on a western Colorado farm,
Linda
Today is Terry’s 74th birthday!
On every birthday Terry’s father would tell the tale of how obliging Terry was at birth.
For you see Terry’s parents, Jack and Marjorie Brown had a dairy not far from where we live now…just about three miles away.
Diary’s never take care of themselves. You can’t put them on automatic to run until you can get back to them. The cows needed to be fed and milk on clockwork basis.
Morning and evening. Fed. The milk hauled into the milk cooler, then swirled and swirled until cooled waiting for the huge semi to come deliver it to bottling plant.
Like all first-time babies (Terry is the oldest of a brother and a sister) he took his time all through the long night, until….
the sky started to lighten and the need to get to the dairy started to strengthen in Jack.
You see Jack ran the dairy all by himself, he was a one-man dairy farmer.
Then right on time. In the most perfect of wondrous ways, the new little boy arrived in the world.
All obliging.
“So I could go milk right on time.” Jack would announce.
Every year, on each and every Birthday. [Jack passed on several years ago]. just as the sky starts to lighten Terry always says: ” Now, Dad. It’s almost time.” And I always say “Happy Birthday, You gave your Dad a perfect gift and he gave you your life.”
We always feel most grateful, Terry and I!
Happy Birthday, my husband. 74 years and still farm’n!
Love you,
Linda
The Monster at the Loch of Colorado Farm. He resides within the Standing Stones Garden.
Everything comes at a price, they say. Everything.
But I wonder: Does it have to be in pain, and sweat and tears!
Can’t the price be hope, and joy, and the belief in well-being?
Can’t it come through that most profound emotion called Love?
Why NOT approach everything in the belief that there is a stream of well-being in the world and be part of that stream?
I love the coolness and the sudden sense of relief the second I arrive in that place of “letting go”. The letting go place is soothing, calming, and (to be very honest) Real!
Even if you don’t understand what I’m trying to say…that’s okay also.
I much prefer this looking at the world in rose colored glasses, than any other kind.
My wish for you today is find those things that raise your heart in happiness!
From my heart to your world,
Linda
(Cleaning the mud out before the water gets there. Weeds grow fast in the mud and suck up the water and slow the water down.)
Today is the 4th of July! Fuzzy and I have puppy feet today! First thing we did a go change the water…Dad has water here and there and everywhere!
I jumped into every mud ditch I could find—heheheheh—makes Mom have to ride with a muddy paws and a muddy belly Beagle!!!
HAHAHAH!
I just give her a great big grin and waggle my tail back and forth in very happy bursts. (When I do that she never gets mad at me!)
Mom put Fuzzy down for a spell, but he said he really wanted back up on the 4-wheeler so she put him back up. He told me the air is better up there…he can smell the breezes and get all the news.
There is a sickle moon right now! Mom was out taking photos of it, she said she would like to take photos of the moon in all its stages. Hey, whatever works for you, Mom! Fuzzy and I are up for anything…well just about anything. Fuzzy says he isn’t up for going to the groomers.
(That’s my tail—that white spot in the field)
Dad’s alfalfa has really grown…it’s taller than I am now, just my tail gives my position away, it won’t be long when I can get news in the alfalfa field and Mom and Dad won’t be able to see me! Chuckle, snerk!
(This was me in the field two weeks ago)
We had thunder storms roll in yesterday afternoon. Fuzzy was in a panic…THUNDER!!! Crack! THUNDER!
Mom and Dad sat outside under the tin roof and let the hot air cool around them, then the rain splattered down; the thunder rumbled. Fuzzy and I laid right at Mom’s feet. Fuzzy must have felt secure enough because he went right to sleep. When I noticed he was sleeping I got up and moved over a short ways and took a little snooze myself.
Later, after the storms moved on, Mom and Fuzzy and I took some photos of the bean field.
(And not a weed in site!
(Yep the corn is going to make before frost–it more than ‘knee-high by the 4th of July”_
Then the little family came over and Mom got our annual photo of the corn.
Fuzzy and I didn’t want to get in the corn with Hank and everyone; we sat right by Mom as she took the photos. Even though Dad and the kids called us we didn’t want to go into the corn. Dad doesn’t like us in the corn until it starts to tassel out! We were told that enough we BELIEVE it…………….DO NOT GO IN THE CORN…you will break the little stalks! And there they were….all of them IN THE CORN!!!
Once it tassels out Dad doesn’t care — then I run down all the rows checking out the new, but NOT NOW!!!
Nope not now! So I stayed with Fuzzy who always stays right with Mom.
Anyway! Fuzzy and I, Sammy-Sam the Cat, and Monkey the Cat, and yes Mom and Dad wish all of you a HAPPY 4TH of JULY!!!
Boomer—Reporter at Large!
When I first got here I didn’t know what a farm was, I didn’t know what a ranch was, and I didn’t know how to ride on a four-wheeler or in the back of a pick-up.
See I had always lived in a house and when they were gone they put me in a garage. I didn’t like the garage! I still don’t go into ANY of Mom and Dad’s garages…..they can have the doors wide open and be in the garage and I still won’t go in there.
I didn’t make any noise when I came here either. The vet told Mom that was weird because a happy Beagle likes to express him/herself.
I also don’t like some men or boys with caps on either….I get very, very fearful and try to run away from them.
Now that I’ve been here TWO years…TWO REALLY WONDERFUL YEARS…I can ride on the four-wheeler with Mom, or run beside them, I love to ride in the back of the pick-up, and I talk…..lots!
So when those men and boys with caps come on the place (I never bark at Dad), but I will Blade IF he has a cap on….I BARK! I bark warning barks! I bark until Mom comes out and pets me. Then she feels me trembling inside and gives me lots of hugs and love.
Anywho….
A farm is not a ranch. Nope, No Sireee.
A ranch grows grass…lots and lots of grass and has animals that eat grass living on it.
A Farm is crops.
A farm is ground where the soil is worked up to hold a seed, then the seed is watered until it becomes a plant, and then the plant is watered until it produces something eatable to someone or some animal.
Here on our farm (YIPEEE I LOVE LIVING ON A FARM!!!) Oh, hum, well, yes, I got sidetracked a bit— Here on our farm we grow alfalfa to turn into hay for people who feed it to their animals, we grow corn —the kind that is ground into chicken and cow feed…it could also be ground into meal for people if you wanted to have some, and we grow pinto beans.
Dad does all the ‘tractor’ work, but Mom and Fuzzy and I help Dad water the seeds, then the plants until harvest time.
I LOVE IRRIGATING! That’s what we call watering. If you live in town or just have a house and some yard, you water, on a farm you IRRIGATE!
That is so much fun.
We ride (sometimes I run alongside) out to the fields on the four-wheeler —with Mom. Dad always makes us run long side.
Fuzzy doesn’t go with Dad any more, he says he will wait for Mom.
I know it’s because his joints don’t work like they used to, that’s okay. I sometimes stay with Fuzzy; I would never want to hurt his feelings!
When we are out there, I check out the burn area….everything is still burned, but has lots of weeds growing. The guy who started all three farms on fire just keeps saying he’s sorry, but he really doesn’t know what to do. Dad says the guy will stall everyone out and never fix anything so he will get away with ‘lighting fires’.
Makes my people rather sad, I know how they feel. I was always sad when I had to stay in the garage and got in trouble for talking.
Dad says we will have to fix fence this fall before the cows come, and the bad man will just have to live with his conscience, whatever that means.
Mom’s been painting stuff outside…she said everything was starting to look old and tired, like her! HA!
So what once was blue is now white.
Fuzzy and I and Sam the Cat hang around while she paints. Monkey the other cat stays inside all the time so she misses out on lots of cool stuff.
Mom’s friend, Robin, stays close, but not too close when Sam the Cat is laying around next to Mom. (But still there).
One of the cool things out irrigating are the smells…I learn soooo much! Like what the birds are doing, we have three new ground squirrels and there is nest of Killdeer, not to mention all the bunnies living next to the equipment.
The coyotes have moved someplace else…which makes all of us happy. The fire did that to them, now they could come back……
But we hope not.
Oh and a Momma Skunk has a nest next to kids barn down there…Hank found that and told us about it.
Mom told HANK “You stink, Hank!”
Hank said he thought he smelled really beautiful!
Anyhow….sometimes I forget to come when they call (I always think I have time before I have to leave my smells) then I hear the four-wheeler….and I know it’s too late.
Since I have to run in any way I go ahead and finish reading the news…then I
RUN
IN!!!!!
Hope you have a GREAT DAY!
Boomer
This is a dam.
A metal triangle that the irrigator has to set quickly into several feet of very fast moving water.
Doing so is harder than one can imagine. Sometimes a orange plastic dam has to be adding in also, but that is another story for another time.
This is the last dam in a set of 4 dams on up the ditch
Setting tubes at the dam is a skill I just can’t seem to master. You have to set the tube in at an angle. You can’t lose the suction of the tube as you move it from the ditch over the edge into the hard to reach row. I give up.
I just give up. It isn’t worth the frustration. Since we all work together then I let Misty or Terry set them. I join the Grandchildren in the ‘it’s just too hard’ department.
For a tube to work you must siphon the water from the ditch into the tube then into the furrow.
The little kids have learned to lay the tube clear down in the water (bury it) cover the curved end with your hand (Blade’s is just now large enough to cover the end and seal out the air), pick the tube up out of the water and carefully lay it into the furrow.
It took be forever to get past the ‘get down on your knees, lean over the ditch bank, get your hands and arms in the water’ stage
To where I am now…bending over, pick up the tube, put one end in the water, cup my hand over the end so I can feel the pressure drawing the water up the tube, quickly set the tube into the furrow. Lots faster than before! And I don’t ever have to get wet.
But Terry and Misty just walk by pick up the tube pump once, (no hand over the end) and flap into the furrow. They do 10 to my 6. DRIVES ME NUTS!
One of these days I’m going to figure it out
I hope!
It’s still cold here, but at least the sun is shining. I sure missed the sun.
Linda
If you would like to learn about some of the cattle brands in our area head on over here.
Here is where art meets practicality. If this part isn’t done right, whoever irrigates will spend the rest of the summer fighting water.
But if it is done right, the water will flow to the end of the field, subbing the ground along the way, without nary a hitch. But if the ground doesn’t have the right fall, if there is a hole or a pocket, or a hill, well—- you have a mess.
Here you can see what the leveled ground looks like.
It’s a good thing Terry got this done, because this morning we had snow. All farming has come to a stand still until it dries out. Having the ground leveled, will help it dry out faster than if it were a big plowed sponge.
Life on a Colorado Farm 