Shari’s Gone Country

This year, we’ve had a “January thaw”. Boy, really creates a mess, too.

This past summer, when we had to trench from the chicken water to lay the water line for the sheep, that meant disturbing a lot of the playa, the hard silica/sand crust that forms on the top of our soil.

We had snow at Christmas time, and I thought we’d be white until March, like last year. Well, that didn’t happen. We thawed.

You know what it’s like to trudge out twice a day in our boots? The mud is very slippery. The ground is frozen several inches down, so really, only the top couple inches of the playa have thawed.

For a while there was even standing water, thanks to a couple days of soaking rains. I felt so sorry for not only the horse, but the sheep and the chickens, too. When the dogs went out, they came in looking like little mud babies.

Sarah (my Finnish Spitz) hates the rain and the mud. She really doesn’t like getting her feet wet. She stands at the edge of the patio reaching out, but not quite touching the mud for a long time before finally getting desperate enough to brave the mud.

Now, Koda and Kiki just can’t wait for me to come in from the sheep pen. Not sure what the aroma is, but the taste is certainly irresistible. Their favorite time is when I settle into Bev’s big recliner and put my feet up, so they can reach my boots more easily.

Now, we’re awaiting another round of snow. This past week it’s been below freezing most of the time. We got that hay stack put down, but instead of rotating the hay, we just put the new stuff on the base of the old stack for now.

Then we moved a dozen bales up front for the sheep.

Our two boys, Algernon and Freezer (he’s really a wether) went to “ram camp” at the Davis farm today. Clyde and neighbor Bill came over to take charge of that operation. I horsed around with Freezer, trying to halter him, while Clyde lassoed  and haltered Algernon.

With me in the back of the pick up, the guys lifted the two boys up into the pickup bed. Clyde joined us, and off we went, to Clyde’s farm. The boys are joining his young ram for summer camp. That gives both our ewe flocks peace and quiet for lambing.

Not to mention… no more having to carry a big stick when you go into the sheep pen. Even Cindy couldn’t stay clear of Algernon.

Guess Bev and Cindy thought I either felt left out, or looked out of place, as I was the only one of us NOT to own a set of Dickie Bibs.

Now, you gotta know that around here, unless you’re wearing either jeans or bibs, you’re probably going to church or a funeral (generally at church). Well, I’ve got the jeans… and the boots, too. But, I didn’t have a set of bibs for that really serious farm work.

Finding bibs for me wasn’t exactly easy. You see, I’m portend (that’s fat)… and my waist is way bigger than my inseam, unlike most of the farmers around here. When it was all said and done, I ended up with bibs that were 4″ too long. Oh, Mommmm!

Well, just in time Mom got my new bibs hemmed up. Just in time, I say as we had ordered a stack of hay from one of the local farmers. So, on New Year’s Eve morning, the three of us donned our bibs so we’d at least look like we were farmers.

Now, last year, I learned all about this hay business. About two weeks after I got here, we had to go get hay. That was a 30 minute trip to Enterprise, back up to a barn, and wrestle, carry, turn, and otherwise cuss 12 bales up, and onto the Avalanche. At 120# a piece, these weren’t the bales I remembered as a kid.

Cindy would climb up on the stack, and kick the bales off so Bev and I could wrestle them to the back of the truck. Generally, we would stage the bales and wait for Cindy to get done knocking all twelve off the stack. She’s the only one among us that is the least bit comfortable climbing hay stacks.

Well, we’d cuss a lot, and somehow wrestle these bales to the back of the Avalanche and then have the usual argument about how to stack them. I’ve got no idea why we never took notes about how best to stack them. Within an hour, we’d have all 12 bales wrestled, stacked, and tied only to make the trip back to the farm, where we had to unload the hay.

With sheep here and horses there, we would somewhat divide the stack. We have a little utility trailer that provides hay storage, so we’d put four or five bales there, and then go to the little stable with the rest… knocking them off the truck, wrestling them through the door and finally into their final resting place.

Well, we’ve grown up a lot… Now, our hay gets delivered to us, 80 bales at a time. Our neighbor, Clyde has hooked us up with a couple of the local farmers who are happy to deliver as long as we’re willing to pay… You betcha!

So, here we are in our bibs (it’s cold outside) when Clyde and Steve arrive with the hay picker. We’ve already wrestled the remaining bales from our first stack out of the way. We’ve got about 12 bales left for the horses and 10 or so for the sheep (most already moved up to them).

Our job is now to stay out of the way… that’s it. We just stand and watch as they back the picker down the area between the corral and the round pen, and then stop and tip the stack carefully, back a little more and finally set the stack down. No muss, no fuss, no wrestling… just write the check!

Being women, we just felt that it wasn’t enough to pay for the hay… these guys had gone out of their way to help us… so, we got Mom to agree… Clyde, here’s some eggs for you. Steve, here’s some eggs for you. And, John, here’s some eggs for you. After all, our girls will give us more tomorrow.

Thursday, with the big storm coming in, Cindy and I hustled out to put the tarp over the top. Good thing she’s a “monkey” as she had to climb up on the roof (the back fence was in the right place). We tied baling twine to each grommet and then used all the possible leverage. Thankfully there was no wind, and the temps were slightly above freezing. It took us about 30 minutes, but we were in no hurry. Better to get it done right.

The stack isn’t as straight as we’d like and the tarp is a little crooked, but in a couple weeks, we’ll be ready to divide the stack… moving the top half to the empty space behind the new stack, so we can more easily feed the horses.

That day, I’ll be in my bibs again, as we’ll take the entire bottom layer, wrestle it onto the Avalanche (or maybe our “new” farm truck) and move it to the sheep. They don’t mind a bit of mud and mold. Then Cindy will go up the stack, and start rolling the bales off for Bev and me to put into position.