August 24, 2011: DAY 6: For Women Just Learning To Wrestle Pigs...

I’m sure by now you are getting sick of me saying “up at 430.” Well, we were up at that time once again. Brett started out this season eating eggs and having a cup of coffee with me before he left. Today, he wanted nothing aside from ten more minutes of sleep on the couch and a promise that I will wake him when I see the lights of Coach’s car. That’s fine with me. More “Water for Elephants!”

            Brett informed me that his girlfriend would be coming over after practice, so I get my jog in early in order to have time to clean the house before she arrives. My friend Cat has a saying, “If you’re coming to see me, stop by anytime. If you’re coming to see my house, call ahead.” While I would love to feel the freedom of this statement, I have major OCD when it comes to my house being clean, and with five children running around, feeding the beast of my desire for cleanliness is difficult at best and often leaves me with my mouth drooling and my heart racing.

            The lack of perfection in my home is something I have had to learn to breathe through, just as other people breathe through paying their bills when they know from the start that they don’t have the adequate funds to do so. While I’m sure that learning to relax in a less than pristine environment is a good thing, I still secretly believe that so is my OCD. I love it. I relish in it. I roll in it like a dog rolls in poo. Okay bad analogy, because we all know how I feel about poo as well. But I will save that for another story.

            I want my house to look as if the maid has been here all the time and I have such a hard time controlling myself that when the kids leave so much as a spoon in the sink, I call them to it and then look around in bewilderment asking them if they see “Alice” anywhere in the house? As you can see, I’m not fully on the verge to recovery yet, but due to other events of the morning, I was unable to get my dishes done before I had to retrieve Brett and his guest. I was mortified, apologizing for the mess, etc. Brett, always there to help like any good, loving teenage son would, looked around the kitchen and said, “What are you talking about Mom? This place looks cleaner than usual.” Had he not had a guest I might have cuffed him.

            At noon, I took Brett’s friend home, delivered Maxx and Summer to Grandma’s for a two-day visit, and went on a parts run to Colfax. Wave’s mother has recently become my hero (not that she wasn’t already) but she has offered to take a small set of our brood on and off this week to help give me a break in harvest. Ahhh…

            At 500 PM, The Ag teacher from Tekoa and his wife arrive to help us load up three of the five pigs that we will be taking to the fair. Just like last year, we will moving them to the FFA barn in Tekoa so that the kids can wash them and work them more intensely during these next to weeks. When we started raising 4-H pigs last year, we all wondered how in the world we were ever going to butcher them. A friend of Wave’s told him that by the time the pigs were ready to go to the fair, we would be ready to kill them. I love our pigs. They are like dogs. Loyal and affectionate. They seem to only want to please, but I clearly remember that last year I felt different by the time we loaded them. It sounds cruel, and it is only a fleeting thought, but as I watched the Ag teacher back the trailer into the stall, I had flashbacks from last year’s pig loading attempt.

            The pigs were playful and jumpy as the teacher stepped in the stall to separate the three we will be taking to the fair. Dominus, Zagar and Alex were quickly separated from the other two, but by the time the gate opened on the back of the trailer they turned into 270 separate pounds of solid hatred, and the five of us were not enough to handle them. Especially with Jack singing to them loudly from atop a fuel tank next to the stall.

            Within minutes, all three of them squeezed under the gate on the trailer and were out in the driveway before we could do anything to stop them. Brett lured them with every marshmallow we had and thank goodness managed to get them back in the fence. Pigs are smart, but they are also playful. They love to follow you, and marshmallows, but it will be over their dead carcasses that they will get in the back of a trailer. Like I said, they are smart!

            It took over an hour and every bit of strength all of us had to get those three snorting, biting angry swine into the back of that trailer, and as the teacher closed the door I was already screaming “good riddance!” in the back of my mind; however, by the time we got to the barn and coaxed the pigs out of the truck and into their new pens they had returned to normal and we were quickly scratching their jowls again. All water seemed under the bridge between us, and we were almost sad to leave, but I knew in the back of my mind that tomorrow, bath day, was going to prove to be much of the same as it was at the barn and once again I would be thinking about how good pork chops are going to taste this winter.  

August 23, 2011: DAY 5: New visitors to the Warwick Farm

            Today’s up at 430 moment brought homemade cappuccinos, or as our family likes to call it, Uncle Mike’s Special Drink. Although I have the right tools: good strong coffee, Sugar in the Raw, and a coffee press for foaming the milk, no one can make them as good as Mike does. No one! The sun was just peaking up as I got Brett out the door and tiptoed back to my chair to read another chapter of “Water for Elephants.” No one got redlighted thank goodness, but I’m starting to wonder what in the world Jacob is thinking.  I also hope that the author answers the posed question about how much water a person would have to haul to satisfy an elephant. Before I could get through more than one chapter, or more than one cappuccino, Wave was up and ready to move a tractor to the field to plow fire lines. The air is super dry, and I am relieved that he is doing this before the combines roll today, so I make him a cup of coffee and we are out the door.

            I have not ridden in a tractor with Wave since last fall, and with coffee in hand, the crisp morning air smells so much like Fall it is both exhilarating and eerie at the same time. I love the cooler mornings, but Mother Nature needs to hold off for a little while longer. We have to get the crops in first.

            After plowing the field and gossiping in my husband’s ear for the first time in a week about everything that has been going on with the kids while he has been working, we are all too quickly done. Wave moves the tractor to his dad’s house and I back the pick-up up to the little tiny air compressor in order to move it into the next field so that the crew can blow off their combines before they start this morning. This is the first time I have done this alone, and considering the fact that the air compressor is so small behind the pick-up that you cannot see it, I was pretty damn proud that it only took to tries to touch ball to hitch!

            I returned home just as the kids were stirring and the crew is arriving, only to find a mama and baby moose heading toward our “newly” dug pond. I was so excited, since drawing in wildlife was one of the main reasons for digging the pond, that I called the kids on the radio to tell them to run out to the shop and watch. Unfortunately, Summer’s 4-H sheep had jimmied the chain on their fence loose and the kids were out rounding them up. I hoped that they did not get mixed up with the mama and baby in the process. Knowing Jack, he might try to coax one of moose into the fence as well.

            The rest of the day was fairly uneventful. No break downs, no major parts runs, no cussing on the radio yet. It felt like the calm before the storm. Everyone, even the other families on the radio seem pleasant and content, so I took the opportunity to move more rock and make banana bread. My back is really starting to hurt, but I’m determined to get that rock moved before we leave for the fair in two weeks. I’m determined to get a lot of things done before then. I’m not sure how Wave will handle the rest of harvest minus his family and the parts runner, but at least we will be in Colfax, so if something major does happen, we are already only ten minutes from the parts store. I’m already dreading the amount of times I will be coaxed into running a part up “real quick.” 

August 22, 2011: 4th DAY OF HARVEST: Catching up

NOTE TO READER: Since I decided to add my diary on my blog page days after harvest actually began, I am having to play catch up. Therefore, every free moment I get, I will add a day from the past in hopes of being caught up to the current day for you. Please stay tuned. Things tend to get a little crazy on the farm this harvest! 


DAY 4: The kiddos came home Sunday night. For three of the boys at least, this is it for the summer. They normally alternate every two weeks at their other homes for the summer, and now that they are back here that is over. Brett is back on a full-time football schedule, and I will have to work hard the next two weeks to get the rest of them on a regular schedule again. For Summer, this is her last two-week interval at our house for the summer. She will return to her mom’s house for the school year after the holiday.

            I’m super excited to see Maxx as he and I haven’t seen a lot of each other of late. He used to spend all of his time here, but with Brett having more needs now that he is in high school, I seem to be spending more time with Brett these days. That’s fun too, as it used to be just the opposite. Boy howdy, there is just not enough of this mommy to go around!

            So, at 4:30 Brett and I were up again for football. The athletic director, and our neighbor, Ken, kindly offered to pick Brett up in the mornings since he, and his daughters, have to be there anyway. I kissed Brett goodbye and thought fleetingly about going back to bed; but it feels so good in the cool morning air, and it’s so quiet, I have to stay up and sneak in a few more chapters of “Water for Elephants.” I think someone is going to get redlighted today, so I am on pins and needles as to who it is!

            At 7:00 I got a jog in and then I helped move combines again and taught Brett to flag for the first time. He did great. It was only a small move, but just doing that works the kinks out so that he can be ready when we really need him. Harvest is going along well, but every time I even think that thought I want to scream out, “Break a leg,” due to the recognition that you have to be careful what you say or else you could jinx yourself and everyone else. The wheat looks amazing, but shhh, don’t tell, and everything is up and running again. Yikes, scary just thinking it.

            Right now, it’s nice to hear the neighbors on the radio again. Seems like Heaton’s are starting to harvest and Mc Hargue’s are doing pretty well. My Grandpa Squibb works for Mc Hargue’s and today he gave a shout out to Jack telling him to have a good harvest and to keep the farm running well. We can hear all of them, but he can’t hear us. Right now, I like the camaraderie, but ask me how I feel about the radio chattering away in my kitchen by the end of harvest! However, I like being able to hear my grandfather working on the radio. Who else gets to do that?

            I managed to pick a few zucchini from the garden and it looks like I might even get a tomato this year. Oh boy! Terrible year for a garden around here. I don’t know why I even try. I moved a bunch of rock in this flower garden I have been working on all summer. This place is huge and it always has been a work in progress. It probably always will be. I have plans for all of it, but each project is massive and will take time. This flower bed alone has taken two years to establish and it is still not even close to done. All of this is helping me learn patience. Building and growing things tends to do that, and it has also helped me to understand my husband’s never ending patience so much better the longer we are married.  

            I found time to run Jack to the pool for 30 minutes. It just seems wrong not to let the kid swim while he has the chance. He would swim all year if we would let him, and I’ll lay testament right now that that kid will be a scuba diver when he is older. I’ve never seen anyone like him when it comes to diving and holding your breath under water. Brett just told me that they believe deep diving and forcing yourself to hold your breath for lengths of time encourages the blood vessels in your brain to grow and have been know to increase the amount of brain we use. We are not worried about Jack then; he will do just fine in life.

            Had to leave the pool to go on a minor parts run to Colfax. Brett has ridden with me on every run, and the company with my son is nice. He will get his license in a year and half and I know that after that, he will be gone.  I return home, leave Brett to get some sleep and take Summer to Tekoa to practice showing sheep for the upcoming Palouse Empire Fair. She is gaining confidence and doing much better – even though she doesn’t see it. Working on trusting herself will be the key. I think working with the animals will help her to stand on her own two feet. I am very excited to see her in the arena!

            By the time we got back home I had just enough time to make Mulligatawny Soup and rolls and head to my bedroom for a little quiet reading. Although I still have not had much time with Maxx, I am tired, Wave will be here soon, and still have not seen anyone get redlighted from the circus train.  

August 20, 2011: DAY 2 - THE PICNIC

We are up at 4:30 again. I cannot say that it is getting any easier just yet. Chad arrives at 7:00 ready to roll. I finished a new Lentil, Orecchiette, and Feta Cheese salad for the picnic today, only to discover that it didn’t taste good. Experiment gone wrong. I cannot serve this to my family. Thank goodness for my friend Shelly, Chad’s wife,  who taught me how to make the best Macaroni salad on short notice. After whipping it together, I go out to wash the farm truck I’ve been trying to get to for three days. I want to wash it and wax it before the sun bakes it and me. I get it washed, but it’s already to hot by the time I get to waxing so it will have to wait until this evening. Thankfully, the other truck driver does not arrive until tomorrow, so I still have time.

            I am soaked by the time I have to move Chad to the field and return home to feed and water the animals and create a new mud bog for the pigs. It will be almost 90 degrees today, and by the time I start filling the new hole they are already rolling and splashing in the water covering Jack and I will mud. Thank goodness I waited to shower.

            I grab a cooler and fill it with ice for the salad and fresh huckleberries for the homemade ice cream and it’s almost noon before Jack and I head out to the picnic, so we will be fashionably late at best.

            The picnic was fun, but I learned that Grandma and Grandpa are putting the family home on the market and moving to an apartment in Spokane next week due to Grandpa’s cancer. I can hardly enjoy myself after Grandma asks me to run to the house with her to pick out some family heirlooms so that the kids and I will have something to remember them by. I sort slowly through the stuff, only to feel terrible for taking some and even more terrible for passing other stuff over. Grandma went outside while I was finishing only to find Jack sitting on the step moping about something. She asked him what was wrong and he said that I was taking too long and he was supposed to be in harvest. I think we already know this kid’s future.

            Jack and I return home about 4:00 only to learn that one truck is broke down already so Chad had to take the unwaxed truck to the field. That is not good since it has fresh paint, but that’s harvest. It’s unpredictable, so you better have all your chores done early. I didn’t this time and I feel bad about it because the paint job is so amazing. Oh well, can’t dwell on what you missed this time of year or you’ll never get anything done.

            I leave a very sleepy, but undeterred Jack with Wave and head home to make dinner. I BBQ Black Butte Porter chicken, bake diced potato with garlic and onions, some amazing oatmeal banana cookies, and a vodka tonic. Shelly came over to eat dinner with me and we got to visit minus children for the first time in history.  It was strongly quiet and I could actually hear what she was saying.

            Wave’s dad called from Utah, where he is competing in the National Cowboy Poetry Contest. He wanted to check on harvest and let us know that he won the championship! He is now the nations number one cowboy poet. Of course, he says it’s nothing, but we all see it differently.

            Due to the truck down, Chad, Wave and Jack managed to come home in time for dinner and we all ate together – probably for the last time this summer.

  

Diary for Harvest 2011: Day 1

AUGUST 19, 2011: 

            This is possible first day of harvest, and I promised myself that no matter how busy it got, I would keep a diary. We are so stinking ready to get rolling that I swear the hair on our arms is standing to attention at just the thought of hearing a combine roar to life. This harvest is late, extremely late for the Palouse. There are years when we have finished on this day, so it’s crucial that we do not waste a second. The problem is that not all of the crops are ready, so harvesting will be spotty at best. Today, Wave will harvest alone, jumping from combine to truck just to get a few loads into the bin so that he can make a better plan for the whole crew who are arriving tomorrow at 7 am.

            At 430AM Brett and I are up and semi-concious so I can take him to football practice at the high school in Oakesdale. I return home at 5:30. Normally I would want to fall back into bed and catch a couple more winks, but we’ve been gearing for this day forever. Especially our 6-year-old Jack, who is awake and ready to make lunches for he and his dad. He wants to get on the combine even worse than Wave does, but it looks like plans have changed. Wave needs to spray a field for a neighbor and we need to get a birthday present for Summer before we are deep in harvest and can’t get back to town.            

            By 7:30 we realize that we have two flat tires; one on the Rogator and one on the combine. And I swear it’s all because I made that comment the other day over our five o’clock beer in the shop that after all the time farmers have had to get their equipment ready this year there should not be a single breakdown. I should have known.

            At 8:30, I am showered, lunches are made just in case, and Wave and I deliver Brett to Mt. Hope to buck bales for the day with my dad. We make a mad-dash to Spokane for the present and I can already feel the tension in my husband’s body. He does not want to be in Spokane. He should not be on blacktop at all this time of year. He should be hot, sweaty and itchy from the wheat chaff that has been misting doen his back all day. I hurry out of there before some unsuspecting elderly woman with a shopping cart gets ran over by a cranky farmer in need of a wheat fix.

            By noon we are back home. The tires guys have yet to show, and I want my husband as far away from the house as possible. He goes to the field to harvest what he can with the other combine with instructions that I will call him the moment they get that tire fixed. Executive orders already being bellowed out. Full crew or not, we are in harvest now.  I spend the rest of the afternoon making a highly fattening meatloaf and potatoes for dinner, and start the salad I need to make for the family picnic at my Dad’s tomorrow. Harvest or not, the picnic will not be missed as my grandfather has just been diagnosed with two kinds of cancer and he is still going out of his way to make us homemade ice cream. I bring the few huckleberries I managed to pick this year. There won’t be any for Wave, but Grandpa’s ice cream is worth it.

            Brett calls after he’s done bucking bales and has decided to skip tomorrow’s practice to go on one last run to the lake with his dad for the week-end. I can’t blame him, but I make sure he calls the coach and explains everything.

            My mom makes the long trek from Moses Lake to Tekoa to see her parents, so Jack and I go over to visit for the evening. Grandma Squibb, Aunt Lori, Jack and my mom are there. So fun to see them! We end up out at the cemetery on a ghost hunt just after dark. No ghosts, but the cool, golden harvest air is refreshing and it’s great to talk with everyone. I do miss the cemetery at night. We will have a full crew in the morning, so Wave and I get to bed early. The wheat sample tested well. We are go for a full day of harvest tomorrow and I can only imagine what kinds of trials and tribulations that will bring.