Thursday, November 19, 2009

Tractor Love

I love my tractor. Got it almost new in 1984, and it's been all a girl could want in a tractor. The size is good for a short person, and the power is right there for all my needs. Being a city kid, driving a tractor took some getting used to. But now, it's second nature. So it's with real sadness that I find myself thinking about a new one. The hydraulics don't work like they used to. To rise the rotovator today I had to fiddle with the bucket. And it's starting to rust too. So I'm thinking that in the spring ( assuming it makes it through the winter), while there is still some trade in value, talking to either the Kubota or John Deere folks. For now though, I've got my fingers crossed.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Must Be The Season Of The Cow

Wizard, Meeting her new Calf, Orbit

We are now entering the season of the cow. Our first cow, Wizard, 'freshened' yesterday. She had a really beautiful heifer named Orbit ( a previously and much loved name here on the farm). We often miss the actual birth, but this time, we were lucky to be around for it. Watching a cow give birth is like watching a calf swan dive into the world. First it's the 2 front hooves, then the nose, then the head, then the shoulders, and, after the shoulders, one more push and's out.
Within an hour, her baby was up and trying to walk.

A still wet Orbit trying out her new legs

And, so it goes... summer slipped into autumn, and is fast becoming winter

Friday, November 6, 2009

Autumnal Surprises and Hopes

The last tree to flower in our area is the Witch Hazel. Most trees flower in the spring, their blooms lost in a sea of glorious color, while the Witch Hazel just sits there, biding it's time. But in November, the Witch Hazel has the last laugh. When the leaves are mostly off all the trees, their early beauty long forgotten, she bursts into full flower. It's startling, really. We have one in the road hedge row and I almost fell off the tractor when I drove by it yesterday. A beautiful, rather wild and unkempt flower. It also has a huge scent... not the sweet perfume of spring, but astringent, and medicinal. Perhaps a scent to get us through the long winter... not to scent our perfumes, but to keep us healthy.

Being the eternal optimists that we are, we're still holding out for a good crop of broccoli. We covered part of it with a large, very light cloth, called 'remay', and taken to calling it our field of dreams

The forecast for next week is for temperatures to be in the 50's. And, if it's sunny too, perhaps we can get the broccoli heads to go from:

to this

Well, we can always hope!