Posts Tagged ‘hay’
Breakfast Served
I’m posting a little later than usual for a weekday, but it’s a weekend day for me, since I work a 4-day week at the day-job, so that’s my excuse. The actual truth is that I am busier than usual tending to tasks because my ranch partner is on vacation. Cyndie is lounging by the pool at her parent’s home in Florida for a couple of weeks.
I know! She deserves it, make no mistake.
She threatened to pay me back by taking care of our place and George’s for a few days so we could go up to Hayward, WI and do some skiing. That’s nice, but sounds like a lot more work than lounging by a pool, to me.
I am back in the old routine of waking up alone and giving all the animals the morning attention they require. The first task is cleaning up after the horses in the area of the barn overhang. Then I serve up their breakfast cereal in a dance that has become very routine for them when I am doing it. I love how apparent it is that they understand what I will do, and they wait patiently, for the most part, for me to mosey through the steps.
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You may notice in the images, we are being treated this morning to a picturesque “snow-globe” snowfall that is adding a magical feeling to this winter morning. It doesn’t hurt that the temperature has warmed considerably, bringing more than a magical feeling, it is a very real sensation of being much more comfortable for a winter day.
On the way to the barn, Delilah has already taken care of her first order of business, and then she busies herself in the barn by searching for mice or barking annoyingly at the horses or some distant other dog that is inevitably baying for attention. Delilah is more than happy to oblige the neighbor dogs, regardless the anxiety it creates in me and the horses.
If she would be quiet, that morning time can be incredibly serene. When she’s not, her harsh hollering is exceptionally grating. It usually earns her a short leash in the middle of the barn, after which, I close the doors on her. There. Take that, Ms. Barksalot.
When the hay boxes are topped off and the immediate vicinity is poo-free, Delilah gets what she has been waiting for. I take her for a walk. This morning’s was a shortened version, because when we reached the road, there were empty garbage and recycle bins ready to be returned to the garage.
Delilah is usually more than happy to have a short a.m. walk, because returning to the house means she will be presented with her morning meal.
After all that, the master of the house finally is served. Well, not really served. I have to get it myself. Time for my breakfast!
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Passing Middle
As long as I am writing about calendar days, it occurs to me that, not only are we passing the middle of the month of January, we are essentially heading into the second half of our long winter.
There are several ways that I can gauge this. We have almost devoured the first full rack of firewood that we stacked on the deck.
We are about halfway through the hay stored in our hay shed.
We have filled just over half the space where we store composting manure during the cold months.
In terms of weather, this weekend we are due to receive the coldest blast of Arctic air of the winter. There are warnings posted about dangerous wind chills on Sunday through Monday morning.
After we get through this, it is expected to warm up to El Niño-driven-warmer-than-usual temperatures for this time of year. I’m okay with that. Even if I live a long and healthy life, by conventional standards, it is reasonable to think that I am past the middle of my years on this planet. I am growing more satisfied with mild weather than I was in my younger days.
I checked the level of propane in our big tank yesterday, to make sure we don’t need to order more yet. It is less than half full, but there is enough to get through the winter at the rate we use it.
I have a sense of being on the downhill side of things, which provides an impression things should be easier. We get to coast.
Could it be that we are even passing the middle of a change in our climate? Thinking about the coldest possible temperature of the winter reminded me of the remarkable graphic posted by Paul Huttner in his weather blog, “Updraft.”
Look at the trend line of the oscillating minimum temperatures recorded in the Twin Cities in my lifetime. If this keeps going, I could live during a year when temperatures here don’t even dip below zero.
That would seem like coasting through a winter.
In my advancing years, I think I will enjoy the ride. In the mean time, bring on today’s deep freeze.
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White Flakes
Ladies and gentlemen, let the record state, we have snow. Ready, or not, the white flakes of winter have made their first appearance here. You can hardly see them in the image, but I had to take the picture anyway. It’s the official portrait recording proof of the occasion.
Maybe if you squint a little bit and shake your head back and forth while looking at it.
Not really. I just wanted to see if I could get you to do that.
I came home from work with the full intention of building the last of four slow-feeder hay boxes for the stalls in the barn, for Legacy’s “apartment,” but the weather had degraded early enough that Cyndie moved the herd indoors before I even arrived. He’ll eat his hay out of an open tub for the time being.
I got the night off, which was quite all right with me. I wasn’t that interested in venturing out into the cold and wet blowing mess, preferring instead, to climb under a blanket and take in one of the rented movies that came in the mail.
We had a good laugh over “Life of Crime,” with Mos Def and John Hawkes, among other notable names in the cast. It was a fun distraction from anything that matters, like …the cost increases for medical insurance, or when the chimney repair company will be able to fix it so we can burn fires in the fireplace again.
When the movie was over, we put on outdoor gear that hasn’t been worn for over half a year and went down to the barn to check on the tenants. My headlamp revealed some snow was finding a way to accumulate on the leaves and grass. The horses seemed happy to be out of the elements and a lot closer to dry than they were when they came in, hours before.
I was able to watch the three chestnuts navigating the new hay boxes, while Cyndie worked around them to clean their bedroom floors. It’s nice to see them be able to eat with their heads down, in the natural position of grazing, as opposed to the old system that involved racks that held the hay up high.
I dumped the wheelbarrow of manure and wood shavings, with the thought that this was the beginning of the season where we collect significantly greater volumes to be composted. After just a few loads already this season, the space set aside for this purpose looks like it will never be enough for the whole winter. That is, unless they don’t need to come inside overnight very many times.
I’m thinking El Niño may help keep the horses outside a lot this winter. If that happens, we have plenty of compost space to support our operation for another year.
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Bales Stacked
The day after the classic scramble to get a full field of hay baled and stacked under a roof has a disorienting feel to it. There is an obvious sense of relief in the reality that the shed is now stocked with provisions to feed our horses all winter. It’s like everything that needs to be done, is done.
But, it’s not.
It feels sort of comical to now have to mow the short grass of the lawn, a mere pittance of a harvest compared to that hay-field.
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Baling Hay
It was an epic day focused on hay yesterday, and the weather was ideal. We probably could have cut one day out of the process, but some of the bales might have bordered on still having too much moisture in them, so waiting allowed me to work the day-job on Thursday and then pack the bulk of the work of baling in about 12-hours of effort yesterday.
I started the work in the morning using George’s rake behind our tractor to create the windrows. My skills, and thus, confidence, were much higher than last year, but I still haven’t figured out the ideal pattern for our irregularly shaped field. 
It took me until half way through the job to discover I was making it harder on myself by dragging the rake along the previous windrow. If my steering is off the tiniest bit, the rake will catch the row I just created and mess it up.
If I simply rake from the other direction, I am raking the untouched grass with a clean space between me and the previous row. That provides much more room for normal variations. Duh!
While waiting for George to arrive with the baler, I hustled to move the remaining bales from last year that were stored on the right side of the hay shed, in order to make room for the new bales we were about to create. Hustling to exert yourself is not really well-advised when you have a long day of effort ahead on a hot summer day. I think I threw myself out of balance, probably getting too hot while also still trying to figure out a reduced-sugar diet. Getting the right sugar balance is proving to be a challenge for me.
When George arrived, he mentioned that he had forgotten to grease the baler, so I volunteered to hoof it back to my garage to get my grease gun. After that long, hurried walk, while chatting and watching him hit the multitude of grease fittings, I felt myself growing sicker and sicker. 
I got light-headed and nauseous. It took almost too much effort to walk all the way back to the house after he started baling, where I could cool off and taking in some sugar and fluids —which was a challenge since I was also fending off the nausea.
I never really felt fully back on top of my game, but recovered enough to function and returned to help with the hardest part of all: tossing bales. Cyndie stepped up heroically and moved more heavy bales than I could believe, heaving them around to unload the wagon while I stacked them in the shed.
We weren’t able to unload fast enough to get the wagon back out to George by the time he could have used it, so he just let the last bunch of bales lay on the ground and we drove out to pick them up at the end. I haven’t counted yet, as we finished after dark last night, but I think we got another high yield off our little plot.
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George graciously returned after needing to rush home to feed his animals, and helped us stack bales in our shed to get them off the wagons. Cyndie served up dinner for us all around 10:00 p.m. and we got a chance to celebrate the huge effort of summer: putting up hay that will feed our horses all winter.
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Meet Tedder
It’s time to make hay again! I was a bit surprised to receive a message yesterday from our neighbor, George, indicating he was ready to cut hay, it being so soon after the heavy rain we received. Surprised, but thrilled. We are pretty much at his mercy when it comes to getting our field cut and baled; and truly blessed to have him offer his expertise.
George cut the field while I was at work, and then returned in the evening to chat about the plan for the next few days. He also brought over a new attachment he recently bought. Cyndie and I were introduced to the term “tedder,” as in, hay tedder. I quickly went from having never heard the term in my life, to pulling one around with our tractor.
From Wikipedia: A tedder (also called hay tedder) is a machine used in haymaking. It is used after cutting and before windrowing, and uses moving forks to aerate or “wuffle” the hay and thus speed up the process of hay-making. The use of a tedder allows the hay to dry (“cure”) better, which results in improved aroma and color.
Well, there. Now I also know of the word, “wuffle.” This suburban boy has just taken another step farther into the rural farm country.
We walked the field and discovered it was drying up nicely in just one afternoon. The Canadian smoke that was so thick on Monday was followed by breezy, dry air with plenty of sunshine on Tuesday. The dew point temperature felt somewhat fall-like even. That does wonders to speed along the curing of cut hay.
As we walked the field, George commented that it was already good enough to be tossed by the tedder. That was my cue. There was enough light left in the day that I could take on that task. I volunteered, hoping to relieve him of some of the burden he so graciously shoulders to see that we get our hay baled.
George provided an accelerated lesson on the tedder itself, and then the process of using it, before sending me on my way to learn by trying. Cyndie brought him a beverage and the two of them stood by the gate and supervised my maiden voyage.
The tedder is a very forgiving attachment which allowed me to play around with my method of navigating our irregularly shaped field. Cyndie became official photographer, once again capturing the momentous occasion of another of my tractor event milestones.
It feels almost natural to me, being behind that wheel, but I tell you, never in my dreams did I picture myself in a field, on a tractor seat, and knowing anything whatsoever about a “tedder” or making hay.
Life is an adventure!
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Barely Here
Compared to my time on the ranch when Cyndie was working and I was home every day, it now feels like I am barely here. Not only have my days transitioned back to spending over 2-hours a day in a commute, but there has been a somewhat traumatic shift of attention from the tasks on our property, to the demands of industrial manufacturing and customer requests. Oh, how I love to please a customer, to a fault.
Today, the day before our national holiday celebrating independence from all countries that boasted claim on this land, most businesses have closed. I am home, have slept in a little bit, and will soon be getting after the perpetual summer task of mowing grass.
Everywhere around us, it seems the farmers are cutting hay. The weather clearly dictates activity, and when a window of dry weather arrives, people all jump into action. Except for us. We currently rely on our neighbor, and he is traveling to visit family for the holiday. Our next chance will be next week, about the time the next batch of precipitation is predicted to arrive.
Tough times for my wee little brain. I mentally strive to get things to go just right, but weather, and day-jobs, and circumstances have a way of going any old direction they please.
Guess there’s a lesson in there for me. Just maybe, I’ll relax and let it soak in today, while I have a chance to be home, mowing and poking along at our country pace. While I’m here, I want to be thoroughly here…
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Quintessential Spring
The winter snowmelt was pretty easy to deal with this year, almost to the point of leaving things too dry for a short time. Then we got a few bouts of spring rain and our ground moisture began to show signs of life. Now we are in the classic battle of grass growing so fast that it is hard to keep up with the mowing, and occasional rain storms that hit on the days when it would have been nice to mow before the grass gets too long.
The horses are doing their part to keep things mowed (when we give them time on the grass) munching down the area we have fenced off for an arena.
Since we don’t do any jumping with our herd, we may end up leaving the area in its uneven, sloping natural state. We’ll see how it works for our purposes, once Cyndie actually starts holding some seminars.
The spot we picked for that arena is within the field we have designated for hay, and the narrow lanes that resulted beside it in that corner and along the drainage swale are now isolated from what will be cut and baled. We decided we may as well make it accessible for the horses to “mow.” I just need to put up a short length of fence to contain the horses in that alleyway and keep them from venturing out into the main hay-field.
When I finished mowing the grass yesterday, I spotted the horses already out in part of that space. Cyndie had put up a rudimentary barrier and given them access to one side. I still need to get a more secure version of a temporary fence there, though, as they will certainly challenge it in time, especially as the grass continues to grow more enticing out in the greater field.
In another classic sign of spring, I got a call from my hay supplier on Friday, checking in on how many bales we’d be interested in this year. He sounded a little crestfallen when I told him the much smaller number of bales we felt we would need. Between not wanting to be short and then getting higher yield than we expected from our own field last year, we got ourselves overstocked.
Other spring milestones include my being startled by the first garter snake of the year and the number of rabbits and raccoons visible romping again. Obviously, Delilah can’t find every rabbit’s nest when she is confined to being leashed the majority of time.
The temperatures have been bouncing classically between warm and cool, appropriately mixing at times to create thunderstorms, but so far, this year we are enjoying a perfect spring climate with few unsettling extremes. It is a nice change from the previous two years.
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Brooke Writes
Guest Post
Today’s post is a contribution from my niece’s daughter, Brooke Friese, age 11. Brooke and her brother, Drew came with their mother for a visit last Friday. I was thrilled when she accepted my invitation to write a guest post about their day.
I went to my great aunt Cindy and uncle John Hays’ Wintervale Ranch. It was one of the best days of the week!
They have a beautiful (and furry dog) named Delilah that loves to slobber all over frisbees when you throw it :). They also have an adorable cat named Pequenita; we also have two cats which are twins. Pequenita and my two cute cats are very alike. They are both small and they both are tortoiseshell cats, the only difference between them is my cats have more black and Pequenita has more brown.
Anyway back to Delilah and Pequenita (‘Nita for short), Delilah, being a dog, obviously wants to play, chase, sniff, and lick ‘Nita until she runs and hides meowing at Delilah all the way.
We also went on a walk through the beautiful (but very muddy) woods; we passed a fallen tree that Uncle John has nicknamed “The Brooke tree,” we walked down to the labyrinth, it was super cool!
I can’t wait to see it in the summer! My brother and I followed the winding trails to the middle and then back out again.
Then uncle John led us to the barn where we said hello to the horses. Legacy, (a beautiful snow white horse) acts as the boss of all the other horses (Hunter, Cayenne, and Dezirea) he pulls back his ears and jerks slightly towards the horse(s) that is bugging him.
Dezirea acts as the mother, making sure everyone is fed before she eats, and makes sure everyone is using manners at all times, but she will never scold Legacy, after all he is the boss!
Then we headed over to the hay barn, I wasn’t expecting much, I mean it’s called “The Hay Barn,” there’s bound to be a few stacks of hay . . . oh no, when I walked into the hay barn I was surprised.
I saw tons and tons, two huge piles of hay both stacked in the form of stairs. My brother and I had fun climbing and exploring on the huge mounds of hay (with Uncle John’s permission).
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After my brother and I were exhausted from climbing on the two piles we walked over to Uncle John’s compost/molding horse manure piles, there were three piles of manure covered in thousands of flies. Along with the three piles was a still frozen compost pile that was now almost dirt, and wheel barrel full of more almost-dirt-compost, (My brother, Drew also pulled apart the poo with his bare hands so he could see what it looked like inside! Delilah also ate some manure! Ewwwwwwwwww!!!!!!!!!) Then Uncle John shifted the manure with a pitchfork, and the moldy compost started to steam! Uncle John measured the heat of the manure and it was around 130 degrees! Wow it was only around 50 degrees outside!
After that we headed inside, we played a hide and seek game with Delilah where we hide a ball and she had to go and sniff it out, it was awesome! My visit to Wintervale was super fun and exciting from Ellsworth’s cheese factory to Legacy’s bossiness. I can’t wait to come back! 🙂
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Be Careful
Be careful what you wish for. You just might get it.
We dearly wanted to improve the muddy situation that our horses face during the wet spring meltdown. Last fall we excavated an improved drainage swale, cleared out the overgrown drainage ditch along our southern property border, buried drain tile along the uphill borders of the paddocks, and applied several loads of lime screenings on the hill around the barn for improved footing.
We have been anxiously awaiting the thaw to see if our improvements worked the way we hoped. That thaw is almost complete now, and we are standing by to see how quickly the soil dries out.
What we couldn’t control was the amount of moisture we would be forced to deal with by the weather. Our mild winter left us with a below average snow cover and we have been without precipitation for over a week. The effectiveness of our improvements is hard to gauge because the ground is already too dry!
There is still plenty of time to receive some spring rain, but for the time being, we are experiencing what the meteorologists are phrasing as “pre-drought conditions.”
We wanted dryer conditions for the paddock footing, but this is not the way we would like it to occur.
It is interesting that the changing climate seems to be putting us at risk for dryer, drought-like conditions overall, while at the same time unleashing more copious dousings of precipitation from individual storm events. We get too much all at once and then not enough in between.
I am a bit concerned about how that will impact our intentions of growing hay. Over the last two years we have been unable to get more than one cutting in a season, because the spring and early summer have been too wet, and the rest of the growing season has been too dry. We haven’t had enough growth after the first cut to allow for a second batch of bales.
This year we are starting out dry. Who knows what we’ll get in the months ahead. I’m hesitant to wish for more moisture for fear of then getting more than we can handle. Wishes are not to be waved about carelessly. We should be clear about what we want and what we don’t want.
What are the rules again? I can’t wish for more wishes, but can I wish for a precise outcome? Not less than we need, and not more than we need.
Be careful what you wish for.
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Relative Something 