Shari’s Gone Country

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.

For the past two months, we’ve been getting ready for winter. The wood is chopped and stacked… in fact, some of it has been moved to our little front “patio area” under the carport overhang.

Today, we even bucked a bale of hay into the stable for use over the weekend. We’ve been working from under the blue tarp… You know… open the closest bale and pull books from it as necessary until it’s gone. We use about 9 books a day, and there are about 27 books in our bales… so we’ll have Friday, Saturday, and into Sunday covered.

The sheep are just fine… got three bales of hay within a short distance. The only problem is, it’s uncovered. So, the snow will be an issue… that’s life.

The chickens now have a heat lamp 24/7. We’re bringing in one of their 1-gallon waterer’s and rotating them morning and evening.

Bev works tomorrow and Mom is supposed to go with her to the Senior Center. I would be surprised if that plan changes, even though we’re expecting snow.

Last Saturday, we got three inches of snow in about an hour, just as Cindy and I were heading out to feed.

Bev and I had been watching the sky on our way home from Enterprise… it really looked mean. The closer we got to home, the meaner the sky got. I barely had time to tell Cindy “lets go feed now”.

I got to the chicken coop with their feed, when all of a sudden… the wind came up. I mean it shook the coop to the point the birds were startled. I had my winter coat on, but my cap and gloves were in my pockets.

So there I stood amongst all the birds clamoring for to get to their feeders, fumbling around trying to get my hat and gloves on… when Cindy trudged by, leaning into the wind to stay on her feet.

It was already sleeting… stinging our faces as we worked our way to the stable and the sheep pen. Within a minute or two, we were in a white out. The stable is about 400 feet from the house, and Cindy reported she couldn’t see the house from the stable.

I battled the wind to load hay into the sheep feeder(and get it to stay there), and to fill the water trough. Within just a couple minutes, our normally black sheep were light gray.

I retreated to the protection of the chicken coop and watched for Cindy… some 250 feet north of me, when all of a sudden… here came Bev. She and Mom were concerned that we wouldn’t find our way back to the house… the weather was that bad!

So, we’re ready for a repeat as once again the jet stream (and very cold air) is dipping down across SW Utah, and there’s a huge wet storm riding on the “Pineapple Express”. When these two collide over us… we get “heavy weather”, and that could result in snow.

The ski area a hundred or so miles east of us is expecting up to three feet of snow. They’ll be skiing in waist-deep powder!

It’s in Southwestern Utah.

To be honest, I don’t think I’ve seen Beryl (the town) yet. We’re located about 6 miles north of Beryl Junction and as best I can tell, that junction is about 6 miles east of Beryl. I know we’re about 17 miles north of Enterprise and about 20 miles or so from the Nevada border.

Our nearest neighbors are about 1/4 mile. We can see them, but rarely ever hear them.

Legend has it that it was named for Beryl, a class of gemstones that include the Aquamarine, Emerald, and Morganite. I’ve not been able to track that down yet as fact… but it sounds good enough.

Physically, we’re officially in the Escalante Valley. Our elevation is just over 5300 feet, so you can imagine, I’m huffing and puffing pretty good. To get to Cedar City (about 38 miles northeast) we go over the mountains (just over 6200 feet). Same thing to get to St. George… that’s about 60 miles south.

While Cedar City and St. George are among the fastest growing cities in Utah, maybe even the USA, Beryl is really a ghost town. There used to be a railroad depot, but since there are no passengers, there’s no need for a depot. There’s still a water tower (symbolic) and a small maintenance office.

Beryl Junction is what most folks consider to be “Beryl”. That’s where you’ll find the elementary school, a restaurant, the power company offices, and a couple of other shops. The official Post Office is at New Castle, some 10 miles east of Beryl Junction.

In a couple of days, I’ll get a photo gallery of local snapshots. Then you’ll get a better idea of what my new home looks like.