A New Look

450 pages. That's how much my husband had to read to learn how to operate the new combine's monitor. Two completely different manuals. And the second one started with "This manual assumes you have read and understood the previous manual." I was a little afraid he was going to throw something.

69 minutes. That's how long it took to download the software necessary to retrieve the information stored in the Precision Planting monitor. That and three tech support phone calls.

23 seconds. That's how much time it took for him to realise he should have imputed all the planting information in a different way.

Farming sure doesn't look like it used to.

12 months. That's how long it will take for him to get over this mistake.

But some things will never change.

It's Hard to Figure

Nothings fits. It's either too small or too big. And I don't like how it looks either.

Sounds like a clothing problem, right? Wrong. This would be an equipment problem. And for mechanical reasons I don't understand, its a big one.

Who would have thought that a piece of metal that looks like the hubcab on my car would be such an issue (or so expensive!)? It is exactly 3 inches across. And the parts store had 2 3/4 inches or 3 1/8 inches. Cruel really. So first a lot of banging was tried. This held long enough to haul two more loads. Then.. well, not so much.

So my father-in-law actually drove four hours today to buy a 3 inch piece.

But today, its too wet to run.

Go figure.

/A/, /a/, /a/

For those of you who don't speak teacher, the title is the short a sound-- the sound my son made all day yesterday as we picked apples! He loves this John Deere alphabet book which uses (of course!) an apple for the letter a. It was so fun to watch him see apples on the tree!


Not that he could do anything about it. No matter how hard he tried, or how hard I tried to make it easier, he couldn't get the stems to snap. Poor kid is all crunched over under the tree pulling and pulling to get one measly apple while mommy fills the whole bag in 15 minutes. It would have been about 5 minutes, but I had to stop and take a few pictures. Okay, okay, 76 pictures. But aren't they cute!

Now the kicker is getting something done with them all. My husband wants applesauce, I want some frozen for apple crisp, and the little guy just wanted to eat one! Too bad it requires teeth and a slightly larger jaw.

So wish me luck. I'm sure an extra four hours will just fall into my day!

Small Town Life

In the big city you've got shopping districts, movie theaters, parks and play groups, and who knows what all else. In a small town you've got... the small town festival.

Not that I'm dissing it or anything. I look forward to the local parade (especially the tootsie rolls thrown in an election year!), seeing school girls tap dance, and buying baked goods from the local Cub Scouts. Its fun to see everyone mixing and mingling on the town square and smelling the corn dogs sold out of those trailer-like stands. I like porkburgers and Dr. Pepper, sports teams painting little kids' faces, and all those crafts...

And this year I was one of those craft booths! I took a display board with samples of my custom scrapbook pages uptown and tried to convince passer-byers that I'm selling the service of making their scrapbook, not a product! It was fun, hot, and hopefully productive (and if your curious you can check out my website)!

My son had a good time looking all around with Grandma and Aunt Katie, although I don't think he had as much fun on the merry-go-round as we had hoped. He, unlike me, also does not like porkburgers. Oh well. Brian stood on the corner talking to other farmers about the moistuer level of the corn and who is harvesting and how much. He does like porkburger.

So while it may not have been as educational as an afternoon at the art gallery or enthralling as the latest fashions--I sincerely mean it when I say it was fun.

Ready or Not

I'm almost ready. Almost. There are some things about harvest that I love. I love riding in the buddy seat of the combine, especially when we harvest corn. There are few things like the view from the seat of a huge combine enclosed all the way to your feet with glass. (Or you know, whatever windows are made of...) I love the smell of autumn and the feel of the chill in the air. I can't wait to cut corn shucks for my front porch and take my son to pick out a pumpkin.

But harvest is really busy. And that means Brian is gone. A lot. It means no daddy to take over bedtime duty. It means making all our meals "to-go" in Styrofoam containers and driving them all over the countryside to the crew. It means when Brian does come home he's tired.

Of course, its not the end of the world or anything. There are always rainy days (provided there aren't TOO many) to enjoy. And nothing bonds a family like riding together for hours on end. Last year our little guy would even take his naps on the combine floor. But regardless, harvest is something I have to mentally gear-up for.

Each day this week I've been asking my husband what he'll be doing. That way I can keep track of our harvest "readiness." And its coming.

But I'm almost ready. Almost.

Not Nike

Life is a funny thing. Ironic really. For four years our garage has been an absolute disaster. As we've remodeled our old farm house we've used the garage for a work space, storage, and, well, a garbage can. Oh, sure, a few times we've cleaned a slightly bigger path through the junk piled up on both sides as you walk to the door. I've even swept (and then thrown away the broom...). But there is no denying it has been a total disaster.

So a few weeks ago we decided (du, da, da, du!) to clean it! I mean really clean it. It took two days to get everything out of the garage. And that was after we threw more than 10 huge garbage bags of total grossness into the local landfill. Then my husband wanted to paint it. Twice. And then the ceiling. Twice.

But now it is done! Very little remains. There is the deep freeze, a cart with tools, an air compressor, a few buckets of paint and several painting tools. That's it. So we bought shelves and made a plan.

And I can't follow it.

These huge, sturdy, shelves sit there and mock me. So neat, so clean! I cannot bear to put anything on them. To allow that mess into the house again-- I cannot tolerate it! The camping gear, the (dozens) of tool boxes, the gardening supplies, the baby clothes, the WHY ARE WE SAVING THIS stuff. It all sits in the shed, blocking the lawn mower. And the lawn really needs to be mowed.

But I just can't do it.

No Such Thing

If you are a guy and you're reading this you probably have no idea what I'm talking about. But if you are a girl, especially if you are married, you know exactly what I mean.

Boys have way too many toys!

Yesterday my husband and our hired farm hand were working on the 10-wheeler, getting it ready to haul grain for the harvest. Brian came home no less than three times to get some very specific and highly necessary tool. I have a dad, a brother and several uncles, so I have some experience with tools. But these... well, I'd never even seen anything like them before. Nor do I have any understanding whatsoever about how they will help add braces to hold a new tarp onto the truck. (Okay, okay, I got the paint brush part...)

One was a long, thin... stick attached to a cord and plug-in... thingy. Then there were the gauges with funky prongs? For working on a truck? I dunno.

But I am absolutely certain that every tool he owns is vitally important to the daily workings of our farm. Or, at least, he's certain.

Too many toys? Perhaps I'm not qualified to say. And maybe its better if I just don't know.

H, I, J...

In Missouir we are familiar with tornados, mosquitos, and humidity. Hurricanes? Not so much. But according to the local weatherman, they are here. Yesterday we had 1.69 inches of rain (no, I cannot read a rain guage that acuratly, we have a spify electronic rain guage) and at 8:00 this morning we'd already had 1.77 inches since midnight. And Ike just hit!

First off, for all of you in Texas (or anywhere on the coast really) in the path of a REAL hurricane-- we're praying for the best. But secondly-- what is with this!

Usually we worry about our crops washing away with the spring rain, getting hailed on in a summer storm, or blowing away in a mid-west tornado. Drowning in a September tropical storm is not... NORMAL!

So Brian is keeping an eye on the bottom ground, hoping and praying all our corn and beans stay right where they are. After all the rain we had this summer they look really good, and with the prices we've paid for next spring's imputs we really need this crop. It's not our home, but it is our livelyhood.

So pray for those on the coast, and if you think about it, remember the farmers too.

There She Stands

by Michael W. Smith

When the night
Seems to say
All hope is lost
Gone away
But I know
I'm not alone
By the light
She stands

There she waves
Faithful friend
Shimmering stars
Westward wind
Show the way
Carry me
To the place
She stands

Just when you think it might be over
Just when you think the fight is gone
Someone will risk his life to raise her
There she stands

There she flies
Clear blue skies
Reminds us with red
Of those that died
Washed in white
By the brave
In their strength
She stands

When evil calls itself a martyr
When all your hopes come crashing down
Someone will pull her from the rubble
There she stands

We've seen her flying torn and tattered
We've seen her stand the test of time
And through it all the fools have fallen
There she stands

By the dawn's
Early light
And through the fight
She stands

The Toddler

Over the years I've outwitted a lot of wildlife.

Opossums, raccoons, deer, mice, once even a ground hog. It all started when I stopped feeding our poor kitties the cheap (gross) cat food my husband bought and started giving them Science Diet, compliments of my veterinarian Dad. Oh yeah, the good stuff.

Well, then I began to notice the cats were eating a lot more than I thought they should. And they still seemed hungry. My suspicions were confirmed when I noticed the sleek raccoons and a opossum with a very soft looking coat. Well that stuff doesn't come cheap, so the battle was ON. We moved the food dish, got a dog, fed the kitties in the house, fed them in the garage, and a variety of other things. I finally found something that worked.

Our garage door is the one we use the most often and I'm sure it smells a lot like us. And instead of feeding the kitties once a day we just scoop out a little each time we go through the door. Presto! Problem solved.

And then, today, I met with the wildest wildlife of all.

The toddler.

Just when I thought my kitty food was safe, just when I had out thought, out planned all the other woodland creatures, my son comes along. Oooh. Neat. He started out by dropping each individual piece into the water dish to watch it swell. So I got rid of the water dish. (Hey, the cats are drinking out of his Fisher Price water table anyway...) Not helpful. He just moved on to dropping each piece one at a time into the bushes. I later found Sammy carefully crunching his way through the box woods like a child from the Hansel and Gretel story. I am back to square one.

Well, I have gotten rid of raccoons, opossums, mice, deer, and ground hogs, but it seems I have met my match.

I'm Good for the Economy

If there was one real problem in our early married days, it would have to have been money. I mean really, who doesn't have financial disagreements with their spouse? I've heard its the most common reason for a divorce.

But unless you married a farmer, you haven't got a clue.

Here's why. When we got married I was teaching kindergarten. A nice job, nice school, nice co-workers, pitiful salary. But I knew how to do the math. Nothing, minus very little, equals not much. Farming was a whole new issue. Money comes in, money goes out. And out, and out. Seed. Chemical. Fertilizer. Parts. Labor. Fuel. I just wave good-bye as the checks go to the mail.

And its time to send out those checks again. Sigh. There goes my Prada bag. And my in-ground pool. And my new house.

At least I'm good for the economy.

Holding My Breath

They say its supposed to rain. Like, within the next seven minutes. They said big clouds were headed this way from Iowa and would be at the town north of us by now. Then it would continue our direction and any time now the rain will pour down on our thirsty soybeans, newly seeded lawn, and unsuspecting kitties. Its what they say.

But even though my fingers are crossed and I'm praying really hard, I keep seeing blue sky out my windows. There are some big, fluffy, white clouds ambling across the scenery and a slight breeze-- is it coming from the north!? Butterflies are dancing happily and the cows are still standing up in the pasture. Sunshine warms the roof of our home and the A/C struggles to keep up.

BUT, if you look at it just right there could be a slight gray color on the horizon and I'm positive the humidity is rising as we speak... er, type.

So I'm sure that the much needed gentle rainfall is in our future. After all, they did say.

Kinda Laid Back

John Denver said that "life on the farm is kinda laid back" which I'm guessing means he never actually lived on one. But for us August is as close to laid back as we get. And while you might notice that this is actually the first day of September, the same is holding true for the moment. See, this year it rained and poured in the spring, so our crops were um, well... a little late. So now harvest will be a little late too. But unlike the spring I am excited about a late harvest. Why? you ask. See above title. Instead of planting, spraying, applying fertilizer, scouting, fixing, repairing, and all the other never ending work on a farm we are improving MY YARD! And no one does dirt work like a farmer.

Two years ago my father-in-law took a bulldozer to these giant scrubby trees that were badly damaged in a tornado. Then we knocked in an old cellar before our son was born, since it seemed a bit hazardous to me. When our septic tank went bad we dug it up and put in a new one. Oh! And two Christmas' ago we finally got rid of our well and hooked up to city water. So to imagine what my backyard looked like just picture a gravel query. Or the Grand Canyon. Whatever works for you.

But today they are fixing it!!! As I type I can hear two of the smaller tractors running over the yard with a box scraper and a front loader to smooth out the bumps previously created by the larger tractor and disk. Next up we'll spread grass seed and then a tractor and wagon will bring straw to cover it all with. Yep. No one does dirt work like a farmer.

So, even though fall harvest is right around the corner, today life is kinda laid back!