Creating a House Full of Dreams — Thursday, June 3, 2021

Ah, perfect…a wee stick here, a long weed from there

Hide!  The human is out and about.

Gone. the human is gone. I shall Grab a worm or two.  Building a house is hungry work.

From my world to your heart,



Sometimes You Just Gotta Do Something Different— Wednesday, June 3, 2020

We went with our daughter and son-in-law to where Cliff and his family have very long ties

Up, up we traveled way up into the Paonia Mountain Range (the Elk Mountain Range) —-(Boomer didn’t get to go)

The road was a steep and marvelous wonder

The views amazing

and stunning (somewhere over there is Crested Butte)

At, one point along the trail, we looked down upon the West Elk Mine 

Climbing higher and higher and higher

Until we drove into a lovely meadow, where we had lunch.

It was here Cliff showed us the marker commemorating his late Dad.  Many generations of Rezak’s loving, and hunting, and living on this spot.

Then on we rode

All the while through

(This is Ragged Mountain)

extraordinary beauty

Marvelous lush meadows

Delightfully full ponds

Impressive vistas.

At one point we came upon a man-made object—a radio tower! Always a surprise to me, to see something like this in a prestine forest

We drove to snowbanks and through snowbanks

In lots of muddy melting water

In the thickly growing forests of the Standing People

Then down, down, down again, where we could get off and look back and see just where we had been.

It was a lovely day, and much needed as a wee break in work.

Back home again, standing at the edge of our field…I took a photo of the Elk Mountain Range…which I call the Paonia Mountains…

as a reminder of where we were and the beauty we just experienced.

Your friend on a western Colorado farm,







A Gleam in the Eye— Monday, June 3, 2019

I was sitting still waiting, in the peace and quiet— when a wee joy set down on the edge of the grain head

She fluffed and fluttered, turning this way and that.

Until just the perfect man arrived!

Sometimes we are gifted with the ordinary

Which really isn’t.ordinary after all.

From my world to your heart,



Bright Days—Sunday, June 3, 2018

We’ve planted another alfalfa field.  That will make two fields in our place.  Alfalfa lasts anywhere from three to five years, so the initial cost of buying gold (:) ) pays for itself over time.

We’ve been very hot and very dry here.  I am thinking some of you might have learned about the huge fire at Durango, Colorado. 

Durango, Colorado is about 2 1/2 hours from us.  Over the

San Juan Mountain Range.  Just to the south of us.

Fire is so scary.  And we are so dry.  Although, there is the talk of 50% chance of rain coming in today, which should help.

Today, Terry and I are ‘taking it easy’.  It’s been a hard week, with lots of push and pull and pressure to get the hay sold and loaded and on its way to its new home to feed animals.

Don’t take me wrong.  The selling of the hay (within 24 hours) was amazing and wonderful, and a huge blessing.

Plus I have a waiting list of 10 people who want some of the second cutting of hay and to be put on the list for third.  Many of those people have called back saying it’s some of the best hay they have ever had.  (That’s always nice to hear.  Makes the hard work worthwhile.  So it’s not just the money, but the satisfaction of a product done right!)

And it was our first paycheck for the year!  🙂  Which is always a very good thing.  Spring is such an expensive time, with so much money going out, that the money coming in from the hay sales is very welcome.

We will have two more cuttings of alfalfa this year.  Normally Terry doesn’t cut the new field allowing it to grow and go into the winter to feed the cows which winter here on the farm.  But hay is very short here so he may cut the new field.  Only time will tell.

So, today, we have a wee slow down.  Just the maintenance of the irrigation water, the few things I want to do in the house, and rest.  Being in your 70’s having a wee day of maintaining the status quo is a rather nice thing.

I hope you have a perfect Sunday!

Your friend on a western Colorado farm,



The Deep Hush—-Wednesday, June 3, 2015

The upper corn field is a pasture away from the headgate. As Terry and I work (last night I shoveled ends and Terry dug the little depressions to hold the siphon tubes and then started the tubes, the night before he shoveled and I dug and started tubes) we can hear the roar and the crashing of the water in the FN Lateral Canal,  as it moves over the little dam and into our headgate, then the turbulent flinging of the water back into the canal heading on toward the Gunnison River, then into the Colorado River.

It’s our own mini-Niagara Falls.

We usually work in companionable silence; the rumbling of the water making casual conversation hard to hear.

SMAfter checking the headgate for trash we drive through the Upper End pasture, around the Fox den area and take the ditch bank road separating the largest corn field from the Alfalfa field to set water in the soon-to-be-planted Pinto Bean field. (Whew!  That was a long sentence!)

By this time the sun has set and twilight fills the land.  I was walking back from the dirt ditch, (counting rows of set water as I went—too many open and the water dries up, not enough open and the cement ditch over-flows—when the full moon started rising.


I am not a ‘good taker’ of moon photos…usually I have the wrong camera with me at the time .  Still I thought…why not.  The full moon in June is called the Strawberry Moon.

Once away from the roar of the headgate the land is growing silent.  Although, night is never truly silent, the sounds take on a deep hush, shhhhhhhhhhhhh, bidding our hearts to be still, step lightly, those who live in the daytime are preparing for sleep.

Here and there the night sounds start, the hoot of a owl, or a cry of a far away fox, the night birds starting to awake, the earth’s breath slowing down to a gentle heartbeat.

It’s easy to stand with Terry, our arms linked, or me resting against his chest his arm around me-both holding a shovel. 🙂

Silently we survey the rushing of the irrigation water down it’s own little furrow. Boomer at our feet, waiting for the word to load up.

The earth calms, our hearts match the beat of the earth’s– peace descends.

Your friend on a western Colorado farm,


First Cutting of Hay/Alfalfa —- June 3, 2014

The header is a photo of our home coming in from first light Irrigation.  The sun just starting to rise — creating such a beautiful backdrop to the house and buildings I had to stop and take a photo.

home-in-the-morning.jpgTerry started cutting the alfalfa yesterday afternoon

Making-hay-1It is some of the best alfalfa we have ever had…the standing alfalfa reaches my knees.  The rows are fat and thick and fluffy.

Going-through-the-sweet-cloIt’s so thick he is having trouble getting the old mower through the field. He will finish up this morning sometime before noon.

Sweet-CloverThe yellow at the bottom of the field is Sweet Clover.  We don’t bale it up but fork it over for the deer to munch on…cows will eat it, but customers don’t like buying it.  Instead of wasting this sweet smelling weed we let the many deer (who live on our place) have an dried “hay” treat.

ThickNow if the weather will just hold off for the week and we have a drying breeze —not a row tossing wind–we will get this alfalfa into hay form, then into small bale form, we will get it onto the back of trucks or trailers, and haul a huge bunch down to Delta Elevator for them to sell for winter feed.

Evening-3Please keep your fingers crossed and send Magic thoughts for good hay making weather…Terry and I will really appreciated it!

Your Friends on a farm in Delta, Colorado