Monday, August 31, 2009

My morning ...

... as a writer:

I launched the kids to school, watched the news, had breakfast with The Hubster, fixed coffee and opened the file for my work-in-progress. For some reason being on the edge of sleepy helps me to just sit down and write then revise it later.

Started the dishwasher. Fixed a pot of coffee.

A neighbor came to buy eggs. I hadn't seen her for weeks so we caught up on her kids going to a new school and her husband recovering from a broken leg.

Poured my coffee.

Phone rings: "You know all that bellerin' we heard last night? The cows got out in the corn."

There went the morning. I'm back now but I'm soaking wet from chasing cows out of eight-foot-tall corn rows. In some places just a few plants were a little crooked.

In other places, the cornfield looked like a bull-dozer had gone through it. No wonder the pioneers used oxen for so much. They sure cleared a path through there!

Alls well that ends well. And I can microwave my coffee.

Monday, August 24, 2009

Meanwhile, back at the ranch ...

DH is talking to his cousin and a wind-mill salesman about wind turbines. Our cow pasture might be a good place for such. Take a big chunk out of the electric bill.

We'll see what the man has to say.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

And there were ... 135

...New baby chicks.

We ordered 75 broiler chicks to raise for meat. DH thought maybe we should have gone with 100, but in the mean time the cows got in the chicken pens in the barn and wrecked them. So we were going to use the smaller pen.

At the feed mill's chick day, Poultry Pullman boxes were stacked up all over the office.

The manager said that by the way, some people had not called for their chicks and they had a few extra.

We volunteered to take some ... 10 at first.

At the end of the day they came up with 100 extra.

We agreed to take 50 more. With those 50 and the first 10 extras, we now have 135.

Next project: Working on a bigger pen!

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Rain coming ...

The forecast Sunday afternoon was a toss-up. Would we get heavy rain or not? The Cubs game was rain-delayed three hours, and they are upstream from us, weather-wise.

Even though it was a Sunday, and we don't work on Sunday, DH decided his ox was in the ditch and it was time to pull it out.

We had to put hay wagons away on two farms. I rode on the tractor fender back and forth while DH thundered along in road-gear. (He never drives the tractors that fast!) Kind of funny -- when you are out in the open, on a horse or bicycle or tractor, 10 to 15 miles an hour or so seems so fast it takes your breath away. In a car or truck it's maddening.

At the other farm we turned in with the last wagon and, what in the world. A truck was parked across the lane. DH went up to the house. THe renter's truck had died, so the renter, DH and DS1 had to push it out of the way.

The sky was overcast but not threatening when we got home. Had we done all that for no reason? There was a 50 percent chance of rain ...

Noah would have felt right at home though, by the end of Monday. According to our rain gauge, we got about 7 inches.

Rain coming ...

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

"We'll take care of it ..."

No sweeter words could have been spoken a couple of days ago. We had gone to the local minor-league baseball game and grudgingly forked over $3 to park in the stadium lot.

Then, while reading bumper stickers on the cars around us and wrangling kids and joining the rush of people into the stadium -- we locked the keys in the car. (Pronouns have been changed to protect the guilty ...)

DH started poking around the windows because a couple of his hay customers, oddly enough, were magicians at breaking into cars after locking keys inside. The missing ingredient though, was a wire coat hanger.

Visions of doom crossed my mind: We have only one set of keys; and we couldn't get a ride home with anyone b/c all the inlaws and outlaws went to Canada this week. We'd have to call a locksmith. I saw a bill board for one and called on the cell phone ... but his office hours were 8 a.m. to 4 p.m. The police don't do lock-outs unless it's an emergency such as a baby locked in the car.

Bottom line was ... how much was this going to cost and how would we get home?

I prayed and felt led that we should go inside, find the stadium office and ask about a phone book. Our first stop was the Fan Assistance Center. I told the gal on duty what we'd done and asked if they had a phone book so I could call a locksmith.

Bless her heart, she said, "Let me call someone here." She did and told whoever about it. Then they asked if it were in their lot, license number and so on.

The guy who answered the page had sort of a dark-haired Italian "Wise guy" look to him. "We'll take care of it," he said.

DD and I went ahead to the game. Then we got paged to the fan center about "some valuables for you." Lo and behold there were the keys.

The wise guy must have spoken to his associates and there we were. No charge. How thankful we were! I think the $3 for parking was money well spent.

And we are going to get a second set of keys.