February Farm Diary: Days 10, 11, 12, 13...?!

Here it is Saturday, Valentine's Day, and I'm wondering, What in the world?  Where did the week go?  

My poor hubby is once again working on the weekend.  Early in the winter, it appeared that he might not have to work any Saturdays because the weather had been relatively mild.  Then came that thick layer of ice, and he's worked every Saturday for a month.

He and his co-workers joke that they are "wanted men" this time of year.  And they are! 

Heat is one of our most basic needs, of course.  Some of their older customers become particularly anxious if they are running low on propane.  

How scary and vulnerable they must feel to be housebound and worried about losing heat!  Robin told of one senior customer who was in tears when he and his sidekick showed up to fill her tank.    

Tell me again which jobs are most important?  Oftentimes it's not the best-paying ones!  

While my hubby has been out skatin' around in a propane truck, I've been tending to things here on the home front.  

On Tuesday, that warmest day (near 70) when most of the snow and ice melted, I decided to tackle cleaning out the high tunnel in preparation for this year's crop. 

I could barely get the doors open, and the sides wouldn't roll up because of all the ice that had slid off the roof.  It was nearly a 100 degrees in there!  I didn't stay in there long. 

The grandkids came over and we meandered down to the branch, which was running briskly. We hiked through the woods a bit, noticing all the mystery of the woods, and I found a few oyster mushrooms that I carried carefully back to the house.  

However, after a closer inspection out in the open, I tossed them to the chickens.  Tiny maggot-like worms writhed in the gills--fruit fly larvae, I suppose.  

If I'd just taken the 'shrooms in the house and prepped them, I probably wouldn't have seen them, and I'm sure I wouldn't have tasted them. 

But some things you can't unsee, and I just couldn't stomach the thoughts of eating worms.  Crunchy bugs, maybe.  But no worms for me! Lol

Anyway, the weather was so nice, but it felt strange to be walking around in snow and ice with the sun beaming almost hot on my bare arms!  

As Dad says, "the sun has some vim to it" these days.  It sure does!  

On Wednesday, I rode to Richmond with my neighbor as one of her kids had a dentist appointment.  

Afterward, we had a bite of lunch and browsed the halls of the Peddler's Mall.  I was looking for a picture/painting of a spring scene, and, after carrying one piece around for a long time, I put it back because I didn't truly love it.  On the way out, I found a painting by a Kentucky artist that I did love!  Nothing makes my heart melt like the sight of an old fence post with some daisies blooming beside it. 

We bought groceries and headed on home, and by the time we got back, most of the snow and ice were gone from our yards.  

The next day, the temperatures were only in the 40s, which made for perfect working conditions in the high tunnel.  It was about 60 in there, sheltered from the wind, so just right.  I made good progress; more than half the dried tomato vines are pulled up and the clips removed from them, ready to be reused this year.  

I rushed to get supper on the table, a shower, and make it to some of the grandkids' ballgames.  

On Friday, I had a little one here all morning.  We enjoyed some storybooks together; he watched me do a workout video (😂), then we headed out to the high tunnel to finish what I started at the beginning of the week.  Miles got pretty bored with that after a few minutes, so he was glad to see his momma coming to pick him up. 

I took a break from the high tunnel to head up to the cabin and do some clean-up around the outside.  For the first time in weeks, I was able to drive up instead of walking.   I've had some inquiries and a reservation made in the past few days; I figured I'd better get to shaping things up for the upcoming months when things get super busy.  

Back at the house, I worked a couple more hours on the high tunnel.  I finally got all the vines down, but we still have to push them out, sweep the landscape fabric, roll it back, amend the soil with aged manure...

I'm thankful for some warmer days, some bright sun, that the ice is mostly gone, and for the sight of a few crocuses blooming!  

Spring is on the way! 

February Farm Diary: Day 8 and 9 (Superbowl Sunday and a Sleepover)

The thaw begins.  The kids will be back in school soon! 

For the second Sunday in a row, church was canceled because the parking lot remains one big skating rink.  

So we enjoyed another quiet day at home as a couple of visitors stopped by the house early in the day, then I ran to the store for a few last minute items that I needed for our superbowl party/snackfest.  

Seriously, only 3-4 of the 20 or so people here were paying much attention to the game.  However, we all paid lots of attention to the spread of snacks laid out in the kitchen.  

Lots of chicken wings, dips, chips, veggies, fruits, meatballs, sausage balls, homemade cookies and a tres leches cake.  

Are we gettin' too big for our britches?  Probably!

The football game didn't pan out to be all that exciting, but we enjoyed the halftime entertainment.  Even more of a side show was the explosion of social media comment after it was all over.  

Some of it was entertaining, but some was sad and infuriating, so I tuned out pretty quickly.  

Besides, we had a houseful of little guests.  All but one of the grandkids spent the night, and they wound down slowly. It was 1 a.m. before I got to bed, even longer before I slept.  

The kids were all up by 8, full of energy.  I was up before that, but my energy level did not quite match theirs! 

Still, I enjoyed their company.  It's so fun to just listen to the littles.  

They play, laugh and giggle, then they argue and whine and negotiate with one another over toys, etc.  I try to stay out of their little conflicts unless I fear blood is about to be shed.  I do intervene when the insults and put-downs become too personal.  

I never want my grandkids, my kids, myself, or anyone else to feel attacked or ganged up on in our home for a having a difference in opinion. 

***

By Monday afternoon, the sun was really burning through the ice.  You can feel the intensity of it this time of the year as spring approaches. 

We may have cold snaps and spells, but spring will not be denied! Don't you feel the spiritual truth in that statement?  Things may look dark and hopeless at times, cold and cruel, but spring is coming.  Resurrection power will ultimately prevail! 

Anyway, I coaxed the kids out of the house, and we all took a little walk, basking in the sunshine, and feeling a little more secure in our footsteps with the ice softening underfoot.  

I sat on the porch with my new neighbor for a bit, and I thought how things change while they also remain the same.  

Then, I slogged back through the mud to my house to feed the varmints (and ourselves).  

There's so much beauty in the world, so much to be thankful for, even in all the mess. 

February Farm Diary: Day 7

Thankfully, the ice slid off the high tunnel not long after the storm.  It doesn't appear to have done much damage.  

Saturday dawned bright, and the sun made our little corner of the world seem warmer than it actually was.  

But what a difference the sunshine makes in my outlook and just the appearance of the landscape.  It illuminates, sparkles and shines, especially when there's a snow on the ground.  

My hubby worked again (propane is still a hot commodity right now), so I thought I'd get out and enjoy the scenery.  One of the best places to do that is on Jake's Heavenly Hwy.  

I drove to Dad's and had coffee with him and my brother while they ate breakfast. (I'd already eaten.)  

I enjoyed their company for a couple of hours, then I stopped by Daughter's house to see how she was liking her new grain mill.  

She'd milled some fresh flours and made banana chocolate chip muffins that were delicious! Moist, with a tender crumb but about as wholesome as a baked good could be.  

Did you know that milled wheat loses much of it's nutritional value within a very short time?  Days? Even hours?  

Standard white flour from the grocery is basically empty calories.  

But that's a whole other story.  

After I got back home and did a few things--cleaned out the fridge, etc.--I suited up in my grungy overalls and went out to help feed and get some more fresh air.  

The sun was still bedazzling, although the wind was sharp.  I moseyed around and snapped a few pictures.  

Ice is such a novelty, despite it being a nuisance to walk or drive on.  I'm forever amazed at the way it forms during the freezing/thawing cycle.  

Note to self: It's not only underfoot; it's hanging overhead! 

Hopefully, we'll see the last of it for winter 2026 this week.  A thaw is coming, the weatherman says! 

"From whose womb comes the ice? And the frost of heaven, who gives it birth?,"  God asks Job in chapter 38.  "The waters harden like stone,  and the surface of the deep is frozen." 

Psalm 147: 16-18 says: "He gives snow like wool; He scatters the frost like ashes; He casts out His hail like morsels; Who can stand before His cold?  He sends out His word and melts them; He causes His wind to blow, and the waters flow."

February Farm Diary: Day 6

Winter just doesn't want to quit around here.  Despite a slight warm-up, the ice hasn't melted much,  and we keep getting fresh dustings of snow.  

So yesterday, with fluffy flakes big as quarters falling, I sat down with a stack of seed catalogs and made my final selections for the upcoming growing season.  

Looking at seed catalogs is a lot like eating at a large restaurant buffet.  Our eyes tend to be bigger than our bellies, if you know what I mean.  

Just as it's easy to indulge at a food bar, it's easy to get carried away with a seed catalog--order too much, plant too much...then when it's 95 degrees out and we need to harvest some of that,  we wonder what in the world we were thinking. 

But I'll do it anyway.  

There are sooooo many beautiful varieties of tomatoes, and lettuces, and cucumbers...green beans...pumpkins!  

I couldn't get them all, of course, so I settled on our long-time favorite "Big Beef," a large red beefsteak variety, and our favorite cherry variety, "Chocolate Sprinkle."  

I have seeds saved from our favorite heirlooms:  oxheart, yellow stripey, and a Barnes Mountain yellow, said to have been saved by Glendon Mays for many decades.  

Last year, I tried a "Russian Purple" plum tomato that was delicious for eating and is also suitable for salsa and sauce, so I intend to plant that too. 

I ordered a new lettuce variety, as well as some mini-cukes; the rest of the seeds I'll buy locally, I suppose.  

I'm glad we live in an area with distinct seasons.  Looking out the window now, it's hard to believe how lush and green our landscape will be in a few short months.  

But we know it's coming! 

I can't wait.  

February Farm Diary: Day 5

There's not much to tell about today-my life is pretty boring at times! 

I ran some errands, got a haircut, did my chores and some cooking and cleaning.   

After the dishes were done, I settled into my chair with the book I bought a couple of days ago.  

Then I got a notification--you know that compelling "ding" that says we must check NOW to see who's calling/texting/sharing. 

Before I knew it, I had spent hours spiraling down the internet's many rabbit holes.  

From political filth, to funny AI-generated cat videos (they crack me up!), to reels of overnight sensation Hannah Harper, now a contestant on American Idol, to Super Bowl snack ideas, I took it all in.  

Then, listening to the news this morning while I ate breakfast, I thought how interesting and bizarre our American lives are.  (I'm sure it's this way everywhere.)  

There's the disturbing news segments delivered in somber tones, then seconds later, the anchors are chipper as bluebirds in spring as they talk about football and entertainment.  

The opening ceremonies of the winter Olympics are tonight.  This weekend, there's the Super Bowl, and all the surrounding buzz.  The interwebs will be hummin' with commentary on the game, the half-time show, the commercials--all part of the good ol' American way of life.  

I love it!  While at the same time, I hate it. Most of it is just noise.  

I don't really care who wins the Super Bowl or the Olympics.  I really don't even care who is in political power--as long as they are people of integrity.  But it's not that simple.  People are enormously complicated and hard to figure out. 

While sports themselves aren't of great importance to me, I do love the stories. There promises to be some doozies coming out of both the Olympics and the Super Bowl.  

For example, Sea Hawks linebacker Derick Hall is said to have been born 4 months prematurely, without a heartbeat at first, weighing only a couple of pounds, and he had only a one percent chance of survival. Look at him now! Incredible.  

His story and many others are truly inspiring.  

We could use some of that right now.  To restore our faith in humanity.  

But should we have faith in humanity? 

Probably not.  I mean, just look at our history.  Collective humanity's history.  

Mess up after mess up over the millenniums. 

It's easy to become discouraged and disillusioned by all of this.

Yet we, the human race, are capable of a lot of good, a lot of shining moments.  

I do believe God loves His creation still.  And that's it.  Our faith needs to be in Him.  

I've been reading in Isaiah this morning.  Isaiah has some harsh prophecies to direct at God's chosen people, but they are tempered with God's yearning for his people to return to him.  

Isaiah prophesies many woes--downfalls of nations that glory in their own perceived power, to be no more.  

But, in Isaiah 30, we are shown a way out.  "For thus says the Lord God, the Holy One of Israel: In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and confidence shall be your strength."  

Amid all the promises of judgement are promises of restoration for those who return to him.  

For the Christian, returning needs to be a daily process.  It's so easy to get side-tracked.   I'll admit it.  

Sometimes I pick up an old hymnal and flip through it, and I'll come across a song that lifts my spirits or fits the particular circumstance of the day just right. 

 This song really spoke to me this morning.

O soul, are you weary and troubled?  No light in the darkness you see? There's light for a look at the Savior, and life more abundant and free!  

Turn your eyes upon Jesus, look full in His wonderful face; and the things of earth will grow strangely dim in the light of His glory and grace.  

There's light for a look at the Savior.   Just think about that. 

And in turning to look at Him, there is life more abundant and free!  

How easy it is to let the noise deafen us to these truths.  

Now, I'm not one who thinks we should not stay informed, that we should stick our heads in the sand and pretend there's no trouble in the world.  

But I do think there's a place for perspective.  

"In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and confidence shall be your strength."  

Amen! 

February Farm Diary: Day 4

How many birds do you see?  

(Just to clarify, these entries are a day behind!) 

My new neighbor (Chelsea) and her kids and myself ventured to Rural King this afternoon after a fresh coating of snow melted off the roads a little.  

The hubby devotedly feeds the birds every day in this weather (year-round, actually), and we were about to run out of black-oil sunflower seeds, so off we went.  The dogs and pig were running low on food also. 

Heck, we all like to eat in the cold weather, don't we? 

It was good to be out and about; the snowy landscape was picturesque on the way to Winchester.  We pondered how fast a sled might go on some of those steep pasture hills along Hwy. 89.  The hubs and I always wonder how in the world people mow them without turning over their tractor!  I wouldn't want to try it.  

Anyway, we stocked up on pizza buffet for ourselves, then browsed Goodwill where I bought a couple of summery clothing items, a novel by Pat Conroy called Beach Music, and a couple small baskets that I imagined would be good-sized for holding napkins and cutlery for outdoor gatherings.  

How do you spell wishful thinking?! 

We made it back home before dark, in time to fill the bird feeders to the brim. 

One of the feeders hangs in the old pear tree that stands right behind the house.  It's fun to look out and see how many birds we can spot.  Sometimes it's easy to see that there are lots of cardinals and blue jays, but other times the better camouflaged female cardinals, juncos, black-capped chickadees, doves, etc., aren't easy to see.  

How many birds can you spot in this photo? I see six, but there might be more.  

February Farm Diary: Day 3

 "Uphold my steps in Your paths, that my footsteps may not slip." A prayer of David from Psalm 17:5

This verse gave me pause as I was reading this morning.  If ever there was a time to pray that our footsteps not slip, this is it, I mused.  

Now, I'm pretty sure David was speaking figuratively, not literally.  But I'm claiming his prayer both ways! 

I've never heard of sa' much slippin' and slidin'--and fallin'!!  

The ground has been covered with this "snowcrete" for almost two weeks now, and it's still flat-out treacherous outside, no pun intended.  

Early in the snowstorm, my hubby and his coworkers were having trouble standing up as they dragged hoses from propane trucks to customers' tanks.  So their bosses bought them some cleats that slip on over their boots.  

Robin couldn't stop raving about the difference they made, and he ordered a few pairs from a bigbox.com.

After they arrived (poor delivery guy got stuck in our driveway when he brought them) and I had a chance to try them, I was raving about the cleats too.  My steps once again felt secure on the snow and ice. 

But then I fell in the floor by the door!  My legs splayed out like a newborn filly's and I landed in a heap, my knees bent at unnatural angles.  

Fair warning: Ice cleats are for outside, not for smooth floors.  Inside, they become as slippery as, well, walking on ice.

I learned my lesson though, and I warned everyone that we'd gifted cleats to that they'd better take them off by the door.  

In a couple of days, three of the four pairs of our new cleats had broken.  One of my brothers had fallen (again) and hit the ground hard.  

What's a person to do?  Pray Psalm 17 and wait for warm weather, I reckon.  

And shop for better cleats!  They are/can be a game changer!