Climb Every Mountain

Guys...

I've realized that I have a schedule comparable to my husband during this "Hay Season" he is having.

You see, between getting buried in the sandbox, riding bikes, playing in the mud, pooping in pants (the little boys), feeding cows, riding with daddy in the tractor, changing water, etc, there are just mountains and mountains of laundry around here. I didn't know that boys could go through so many changes of clothes each day.

So after I have done my daily duties of feeding them breakfast, chasing them all over the yard, changing their clothes after poopy diapers that didn't hold up, sending them with dad to ride in the tractor, feeding them lunch, chasing them all over the yard, changing their clothes after the sandbox, sending them with dad to feed cows, changing their clothes, feeding them dinner, chasing them all over the yard...

it's on to gathering laundry, piling it, sorting it, applying stain remover....

AND .....realizing that it HAS been and STILL is 85 degrees INSIDE my house (because no one believes in A/C or even an evaporative cooler)...

It is then my only choice, but to do my laundry (as in run my washer and dryer).....in...the...middle...of...the...night!

So see, we are the same. It's a great partnership.

Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch...

A few things to update you on.

My brother asked about my lawn-mowing. What lawn mowing?

Yeah, that's right. I don't do it anymore. You see, have a (slave) nephew that I (demand) ask to come and do the job for me.

Until I figure out how to mow with two toddlers sitting on my lap. It's just easier this way cause you know. It's summer. He doesn't have anything else to do. (Besides his own chores, his own lawn, feeding his cows and pigs, swimming, etc.) Plus, these guys love to mow the lawn with a riding lawn mower. I have another brother that is begging to come up and mow the law for me. Why not let the kids have some fun? Heck, if they love it so much, they can do it. Cause I surely don't love it...

Doesn't he look great?

AND....

Moley had another batch of kittens. Yep, it's true! The little turd. We came home from our June vacation and she was fat. She had them a few weeks ago now.

Here's the story. I walked out into the garage and heard some teeny tiny meowing. I looked around and I found this.

Yes, that is Moley in a box of Christmas lights. How comfortable, huh? Strange cat.

So I got after her, put my gloves on, and picked her and her kittens up and put them in a box with towels. Much better.

She ended up with FIVE kittens. And they are pretty cute. There are only two kittens left from her last litter. It's interesting living in the country. It's has it's own pet control. Poor cats get eaten and run over very easily. Sad, but true. So the two that are still alive are at my neighbor's house catching mice, and she's grateful. And I might already have owners for four of these cats. Everyone needs a cat up here. It's cheaper than dozens of mouse traps in your house.

Scenery

So.. I'm pretty sure that Microsoft came here to take pictures for their screen backgrounds.

Don't you think?

I actually think it's pretty, pretty out here in the country.

The hubby works in the garden and I take the pictures. Again, a great partnership.

Here's a field of wheat in our backyard

And here is the view I can see from my window while I do the dishes....Actually, I haven't done the dishes for a while. I gave my husband dishes duty until he took me on a date. That was about 2 months ago and he's still doing the dishes. Hee hee hee. Try it ladies! It's wonderful!

I don't know why, but everytime I look out the window, (at this view pictured above,) I start singing, "Home, home on the range. Where the deer and the antelope play. Where seldom is heard, a discouraging word. And the skies are not cloudy all day."

Do you know that I just barely understood one of the lines of that song correctly? All growing up, I thought that the song meant, you shouldn't say the word "seldom" because it is a discouraging word. I think it was just because of the phrasing. It was like I was singing it, "Where 'seldom' is heard, as a discouraging word...." But now I finally get it. It means that seldom do you hear a discouraging word. Right? C'mon, haven't you ever sang a song incorrectly?

My cowboy was once singing Whitney Houston's "The Greatest Love of All" and he sang, "No matter what they take from me, they can't take away my LIBERTY!" in front of a group of us and everyone started laughing. Or you know that song that goes, "Don't go chasing waterfalls..." Well, my friend sang it, "Don't go Jason, what if all.." :) Funny huh?

Anyway, this fall, when the grain fields are ready to be harvested, I already know that I won't be able to get the song by Sting out of my head. "As we walk in fields of gold....You'll remember me, when the west wind moves. Upon the fields of barley. You can tell the sun, in his jealous sky, when we walked in fields of gold." Is it stuck in your head now?

(I actually had to look up the lyrics to this song, and guess what. I've been singing "You can tell the sun, in it's yellow sky.." ALL THESE YEARS! Yep, just found out it's "jealous." How bout that?)

(I know this was a totally random post, but that's just the way I am sometimes.) :)

Hay Fever

Wow, it's been a while. Things have been busy around here! I'm hardly getting any sleep cause they hay is up and ready. That means that after I've cut it, raked it and it's all dried out, I then have to bale it in..the..middle..of..the..night......

Wait, that's not me. That would be what my husband does. Of course.

Okay, so even though the husband does all of the manual labor, I have been involved in hay season. My cowboy cuts it, rakes it, and bales it, and I sneeze the whole time. It's a great partnership.

So anyway. Let me show you one of our fields. The other day, I saw this happening..

It looked like my nephew, so I called my sister-in-law and asked if her son was out plowing that field. She said, "Yes, that's him." Then she paused, laughed, and said, "Oh, that's cute. 'Plowing.'" I then realized my mistake.

"Ahh!" I said, "That's not plowing, huh?! So what's he doing?"

She said, "Well, he's in a swather, so he's swathing."

Okay. There you have it. "Swathing." or, "cutting the hay" as some others might call it.

So he swathed the field, then we let the hay dry. Like this.

Do you see our horse staring longingly at this huge field of freshly-dried hay? I don't think she moved for two days. I'm serious. Every time I looked, she was standing right there! She finally moved after the second day. I guess she realized she'd never get to it.

Anyway, after it dries for a little while, they go back out and rake it... so it can dry more thoroughly, I suppose.

(Don't you just love how this city girl tries to describe all the processes and happenings on the farm? Me too.)

And then, when the hay is dry enough, they bale it. Now, why don't I have a very good picture of them baling the hay? Well, because I was asleep. I sleep from about 11PM to 8AM. Lately, my husband has not been sleeping. He's been out baling. Usually with my nephew, so the nephew is not sleeping either. Anyway, I was lucky enough that this was an early-morning-baling day, rather than a late-at-night baling night. So when I woke up, I grabbed my bathrobe, ran out to my front porch, and hurried and snapped these pictures.

You see, it's okay that I stood on my porch in my bathrobe, because most people are too far away to notice. My front porch is too far away for anyone to really see what I'm wearing when I stand on it. That's why one night, I even dared to run out there withOUT my bathrobe, so I could save my potted Easter Lily. Now that was a weird feeling. Never done that before. But it was dark and remember, we have no close neighbors....nobody saw....

Poor horse. She went back to her spot to stare at all that hay...

And they load it up and drive it somewhere else... (Pretty good details there, eh?)

And finally, the baler. It's hooked up to the tractor. Yeah, the red thing. That's a baler.

And there you have it folks. It's hay season! Hip Hip, Ho-ray! Hip Hip, Hor-HAY!