Matt and I have decided to take it easy this week, so the blog is going to be a little quieter than usual. To tide you over until we resume our regular program of renovations, I present a week of wildflower pictures from around the farm. Thank you for allowing me to loaf a little.
The quintessential farm flower for me, Queen Anne’s Lace
Queen Anne’s Lace at sunset
Accessorizing your house with Mother Nature is always in style. For this fall, it’s about accessorizing your hair with natural elements.
Bring on the burrs
Burrs have long lasting hold and can be arranged in a variety of artistic patterns. Just touch them to your hair, and they will be held firmly in place, no need for additional pins or spray.
Removal is a challenge, but with a lot of patience, a gentle brush and high pain tolerance, scissors can be avoided.
Watch for these natural fashion accessories to appear at farms and forests this fall.
It’s a long walk from the house to the back field. So the other night when Matt and I went to check on the trails, we took the tractor. Why walk when you can ride?
However, Wylie’s a one seater, so my seat is in the bucket.
The view from the front seat
You know the look a little boy gets on his face just before he pinches his sister or pulls her hair?
Look familiar?
Matt gets the same look when he raises the bucket.
The bucket is not the most comfortable perch. At six feet up in the air, it feels extremely unstable.
I should be clear that Kioti in no way endorses or condones my efforts to turn Wiley into a two-seater. In fact, the manual is quite clear.
Only one person at a time!
As evil as he may look in the photo above, Matt is very careful with me, and eventually, he brought me back down to earth and we continued on our way.
With the help of a handy fencepost, we even managed to get a family portrait of the three of us.
Ahhh, farm fashion of rubber boots always.
This was my first joyride on a tractor. Overall, it’s a pretty good way to get around.
We had our first harvest at the farm of actual edible food.
This black raspberry bush is growing beside the barn
There are clusters of raspberry canes in a few spots around the property. I thought that they were all just regular berries until the ones on this bush started turning black.
From tiny green berries to red and then to black.
I’ve been snacking on them every time I went up to the barn, and finally the other night enough were ripe to get a bowlful.
It’s a small bowl, but a bowlful nonetheless
They were an excellent dessert to have with dinner–and exceptionally tasty with ice cream.
Yum!
We’ve had strawberry season and now we’re in raspberry season. What summer fruit are you most looking forward to eating?
In our relationship, Matt and I have worked out a certain division of labour. I do the laundry, and he does the grocery shopping. I clean the bathroom, and he takes out the garbage.
Matt may want to renegotiate our agreement since moving to the farm.
Wrangling a big green bin, at least one recycling box and a garbage bag down a 150 metre driveway takes a bit more effort than it did in the city.
The other night he roped Wylie into helping.
Wylie was happy to oblige.
Matt usually uses a little pull cart that perfectly fits our recycling boxes. He can fit two blue boxes and balance a garbage bag on top. It can be a little hazardous to the heels, though, because the cart has a tendency to pick up speed going down the hill on the driveway. And towing the green bin with one hand and the cart with the other takes a decent level of coordination.
I think the tractor is the way to go.
What’s the division of labour in your house? Does anyone actually like taking out the garbage?
Papa, mama and baby toadstools in the west meadow
And yes, that is old horse manure they’re growing in.
Playing catch in the backyard is one of the joys of summer.
Batting practice in the hayfield is one of the joys of summer at the farm.
With a mowed field and no neighbour’s windows nearby, the farm takes baseball practice to a whole new level.
Of course, with only two people and a big field, the pitcher/basewoman/outfielder gets a workout.
Our baseball team plays tonight. We’ll see if all of our practice pays off.
What’s your favourite summer sport?
We have hay!
I’m definitely not a farmer, even though I live on a farm. However, I think I have an instinct for this country thing.
A week ago I was showing you photos of hay growing in the field and saying that I thought harvest was imminent. It turns out, I was right!
Last Friday night I came home from work to see that all of the fields had been mowed.
Here’s the scene from the big field, which you saw last week.
Saturday work began to get the hay out of the fields and into a more useable form.
First step is drying the hay.
This tractor came through around midday and “stirred” the hay. In my ongoing attempts to show you as much of the farm as possible, I took pictures of each haying stage in different fields. This is the “field behind the drive shed” (official name).
After this, the hay was strewn all over the field. Good for drying. Not so good for baling.
Early evening, this tractor (and the really cool pinwheel attachment he’s towing) combed the hay into long mounds. Now we’re in the front field.
I thought we might be done for the day, but nope. (Maybe my instincts aren’t so good). A little while later, the baler showed up.
The baler scoops up the hay and little elves inside that big red box spin it into a huge bale. (What do you think about my farming know-how now?) My sense of direction is still working though. We’re now in the corner field.
Once the elves are done their work, they wrap the bale in a web of green mesh, and then the magic door opens and the baler spits out the bale.
These round hay bales are huge up close. They’re about 5 feet in diameter and really, really solid. And when they first come out of the baler, they’re warm too! (We’re still in the corner field).
By Sunday morning, we had five fields full of big round hay bales. (We actually have six fields total, but one–the far front field–is in rehab, so nothing’s growing there this year).
Here’s the scene from the back field.
The saying goes “make hay while the sun shines.” For the farmer who rents our fields, I think he follows the motto “make hay while the sun shines, as the sun sets, and by tractor light.”
Baling lasted well beyond sunset. We’re back in the field behind the drive shed now.
Perhaps our farmer’s instincts are better than mine though. When I would have quit and come back tomorrow for baling, he finished it all in one night. And early Sunday morning when the rain started, the hay was tucked nice and tight in its bales, protected from the precipitation.
One thing I do know about farming is it’s incredibly hard work. I’m happy to enjoy the sights of the harvest from the side of the field.
Up until this past weekend, we hadn’t really cut the grass at the farm yet this year.
Yes, we are those neighbours.
A few weeks ago, Matt ran around the house a few times with our push mower until it ran out of gas, but that was it.
Things were starting to look a bit unkempt.
And then last week, Wiley arrived.
Sunday, we fired him up and got busy.
First up, Matt and Wiley moved a pile of lumber up to the barn.
Matt and I have done a couple of walk-abouts recently picking up wood and sticks and rocks so that Wiley doesn’t hit anything and damage his blades. We still kept his mower really high, and I did all of the edging with our old push mower so that Wiley didn’t have to get too close to anything that might hurt him.
Yes, the grass was a little long–so long that we can probably bale the clippings on the driveway and Matt had to raise the bucket to see where he was cutting.
I’ve learned that the term “lawn” doesn’t really apply on such a large property. Grass cutting is more of a question of “Where do I stop?”
Matt and Wiley mowing the meadow down by the road.
Wiley is a good little worker. He cut grass, moved stumps and logs and even gave me a ride in the bucket.
Of course, his driver pretended he was going to tip me out of the bucket, but that wasn’t Wiley’s fault.
Once Wiley was done his work, Matt and his Dad went to work with their matching weed whackers and continued the battle to beat back the invading horde. There’s a manifest destiny thing going on in the fields, and the hay is definitely looking to expand its territory.
The property looks a little more groomed, and I feel like we’re making headway in tidying up the outdoors. Well done, Wiley and Matt.
This weekend it’s my turn to drive. Wiley better get ready.
What’s your mode of mowing? Anyone out there muscling along with a reel mower? Or are you a weed-whacking wizard?
It turns out that one thing that can cause a traffic jam on a country road faster than a slow-moving tractor or a run-away cow is the start of strawberry season.
Ruby red strawberries just waiting to be picked.
Friday afternoon, a farm near us opened for business.
A lot of people had the same reaction that I did. “That sign said strawberries!” Hard brake, sharp turn, park the car immediately. “I have to pick my own? No problem. No, don’t worry about my pretty office shoes. Shall I just pick them into my purse, or can you sell me a basket?”
Mmmm… strawberries for dinner.
Yesterday morning, I decided to stop in before work. This time I was a little more prepared. I wore my rubber boots and brought my own baskets.
What a nice way to start the morning
The scent in the air is amazing–pure strawberry sweetness.
In no time at all I had a full basket to share with people at the office. Yum!
Have you ever gone strawberry picking? What’s your favourite way to enjoy strawberries? Any good recipes to share?
Home on 129 Acres 