Tag Archives: farm

One Week – Walk #21

Among Southeastern Washington State’s many attributes I adore its variety.  We have variety in variety. Routine quickly becomes tedium in my apartment, so this climate suits me.

The photos from the same week suggest spring, summer, fall and winter – and it’s barely mid fall.

7 days into my fall garden box:

Sweet Alyssum popping up between the fallen leaves:

Ducks ducking out on the Columbia River:

The Blue Bridge over the Columbia River from Columbia Park Trail ( Columbia River images (c) courtesy Julie Wetherby used by permission):

Yep. Snow.

Late morning sunlight glaring from the frozen tarps on the wood bins …

…before the rain returned…

Rain don’t bother Chex – photo taken from indoors ;>

Happy Walking, Bloggers!

“As long as the earth remains, there will be planting and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night.” Genesis 8:22 (NLT)

 

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Wrestling

I’m new at farm and ranch life, so I’m learning a lot. Much of the new lessons provide great insights to everyday life.

  • As entertaining as they are, chickens are silly, entertaining creatures, but they eat weeds, bugs and provide good protein food.
  • Smelly as cattle can be, among the other benefits that will come later on, they now provide excellent fertilizer.
  • The mare was trained for herding cattle. Even without a saddle, bridle or a rider, when she sees me carrying a rope toward the pasture, she brings the cattle in. I especially appreciate her late in the day when I’m tired.
  • And did you know cows rub against anything that stands still – especially the ever-available sprinkler heads? Unless I want to toss hay, checking for broken heads is kind of big deal.

Brother and company back in the day

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There are no pigs on this ranch. Aside from seeing them at the county fair and driving through pig farm country on a humid afternoon, I’ve never been around pigs. But I’ve learned some about them from Brother. He raised and showed them in his youth. He knows about pigs.

Recently, as Brother mulled aloud his concern for an anonymous friend that’s going through a wringer in a romantic relationship, my mind kept returning to something I heard some years back.

“I learned long ago to never wrestle with a pig. You get dirty, and besides, the pig likes it.”  George Bernard Shaw

After assuring him he told me that, he stared at me blankly for several moments. Once the point set he said, “Yep.”

Today I overslept. After coffee I quickly began scrambling to catch up with the day. Out of nowhere I remembered where that conversation with Brother went;

“If you don’t mind the slime and the smell you can go wrestle that pig. It’s a workout. But when you realize you’re not getting what you want, you get outta the pen.”

Sometimes life not going the way I expected weighs on me;

  • not seeing my offspring, my sisters and old friends feels lonely sometimes,
  • having to wait on the order of projects to finish settling in to my cottage,
  • not having the funds for things like a new mattress and a good storm door (without running up debt).

I wish I could honestly say I always keep a firm grip on reality, my expectations are consistently reasonable, I’m constantly in balance, and that I don’t worry. But like Brother’s friend, I waste a lot of time, do myself discredit by fussing and fretting about things I can’t control.

It’s all good. My new experiences and some old lessons are setting up well. Aside from recognizing when the water troughs need a power spray, I hardly notice pasture smells anymore. I’ve been close enough to pig farms and other people’s squabbles I know to keep my distance. And when prayer and quiet time with Father God remains my first priority, I can enjoy life so much more:

 

  • Gazing at the stars after a hard day’s work, enjoying the fragrance of petunias and sweet alyssum,
  • Brother’s company,
  • a relaxing walk with the mare,
  • clucking around with the chickens,

And I lose weight without wrestling pigs.

“Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:6, 7 (NLT)

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Hi-Brow Find

Roo 2016

God blessed me with pleasing blonde hair. Okay, it’s actually strawberry-blonde-gone-silver. Fine, it’s gray in some light.
Cursed fluorescents.

Roo 1981

My  eyebrows are less fetching. Not only are they not detectable outside strong sunlight, they’re also asymmetrical. Worse yet, summer colors, especially any shade of yellow drains all color from my skin.

Ah, vanity. My life has been a cosmetic adventure. How I wish I could regain the time spent penciling and brushing in combined color products that just aren’t right.

Erin introducing me to L’Oreal Stylist Plumper Brow Gel changed my world. Well, that and returning home.

A genuine magic wand

A genuine magic wand

On my first night home I crashed hard on the sofa in the main house. I typically shower before retiring but on rare occasions I’m too tired. Waking that first morning I was amazed to find my brows entirely intact with the previous day’s makeup. Seriously, we sat in the truck, windows closed for 12 hours.

Aware of the steady stream of people on the property and anxious to get the day’s hard labor behind me, I wiped a cleansing cloth around my face leaving brows perfectly intact. I was impressed how my yesterday’s face remained my secret until nearly noon when we took a break from unloading for lunch. And for me, bathing.

For the next two weeks, as we hauled bulky items and I rearranged my “cottage,” my aching feet hit the floor running and I practically passed out at night. I appreciated my unretouched brows in the morning. Truth be told, I quickly mastered the art of washing without removing the gel, making it last up to 36 hours. Fine; 56 hours so far. I know; gross. Kendra and the kids are gone before I’m out and about, Cole actually needs glasses and his customers rarely see me. My dirty little secret is secure.

Now that I’ve settled in, I’m somewhat sad to report the gel indeed will last until I wash it off – as long as I nearly pass out the night before – and don’t budge till morning.

With the cooler weather Cole recently activated the heater in the paint shop. The really loud blower motor is against the wall that separates my headboard and pillows from the fan. It restarts every 30 – 90 minutes.
All. Night. Long.

On the second cool night I crashed hard into bed again, brow gel and all. After sleeping soundly every night for six weeks, imagine my disappointment seeing the mirror the next morning; one brow rubbed onto my pillow slip and the other in patchy disarray.

first-coffee

So much for my failed time-saving theory. Still, after soap and water, a brisk brush of the teeth, four swipes of the tiny gel brush, and a tie in my hair I’m out the door, soy latte breakfast and all.

pasture-femmes

 

 

Girlfriend, the cows and the calf are glad to see me just after dawn. I’m sure they’re impressed by my brows, not the hay, alfalfa and grain.

 

 

“Not that I was ever in need, for I have learned how to be content with whatever I have. I know how to live on almost nothing or with everything. I have learned the secret of living in every situation, whether it is with a full stomach or empty, with plenty or little.” Philippians 4:11, 12 (NLT)

Cartoon image courtesy Pinterest
L’Oreal Image courtesy Amazon

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