Burning Wood

Burning wood. And all that means. Which at times, in ways can mean most anything but then what can’t? Burning wood for heat before it rots away. There’s no seeming end to it. I turn a corner and stumble upon a pile of logs I’d forgotten I’d piled up. Even when I choose to fool myself into thinking I’m ahead of the ever sprouting trees there are old falling down wood things to clean up. The work’s different, most of the sawing and all of the “splitting” ‘s been done. A lot of old nails need to be removed. Mostly nails good enough to be re used. Fast hot fires that don’t burn long yet give off lots of heat while they do. Burning wood. It’s April. The wind’s cold.



Rain Check

Forty one degrees Fahrenheit. No sun all day. The ground was starting to look kind of dry when the spitting mist turned into a drizzle about four in the afternoon. Over by sunset with a north west wind. Pretty clouds as the sun set behind them. Pretty cold too. For the last days of April. Rain on Easter Sunday. Rain the next Sunday. We could have a pattern developing. I’ll keep you informed.

Driving to town today I didn’t see as much corn planted as I saw unplanted fields. So I’m in good company. I think there’s more planted in the two square miles around me than anywhere else I’ve been. One heads we all head. Give somebody a toy and they’re going to play with it. I’m no exception with one farm done. For right or wrong. At least I’m five and a half miles south of I-80 here on Rosewood Road. This morning on the farm show I watch they said north of I-80 the soil temperature was in the forties. Not good for growing corn. With air temps below that it must be going down. It can’t be going up.

When I got home at dusk the cows had herded themselves up into the barn yard down wind sides of the two red barns. They do that when it’s going to snow. For the last couple weeks it’s all I could do to get them to stay near the hay. They want anything but that. I wonder if they know something I don’t. Only morning will tell. I haven’t watched the weather forecasters yet. I know they know more than I do. I don’t know if they know more than the cattle however.

Speaking of good company Mom and I just had a wonderful meal at The Cornstalk. A restaurant in town. After I visited my little sister for a walk I headed in to see Mom. They both live in the same town. Since my birthday is tomorrow Mom asked me if she could take me out for supper. It was a nice surprise. I guess rain can be a good thing after all. So can chocolate chip ice cream. Which brings up the next project. Tools needed ; a bowl, a spoon, a bucket of ice cream (chocolate chip), a place and a time to enjoy it. I think I have what it takes.

Bonn Appetite …….





Good morning folks. Not to sound like a suspicious observer or anything. It is morning and I like the term folks. I don’t know why, maybe ’cause it sounds folksy. My formative early years were during the folk music era of the sixties. You remember, comfortably edged between the beatniks and the hippies. The baby boomers age of innocence. Peter Paul and Mary. Joan Baez. The Mommas and The Poppas. The circling of the psychic wagons around the holistic hitching post before the onslaught of Vietnam. Or more likely during it. The onslaught. Not “Nam. Well ……..

Glad I missed that. I’d have probably been a river rat in that one. I had the distinction of serving at the beginning of the all volunteer army. Or Navy in my case. Post ‘Nam. Right before they realized they needed a standing professional army. A couple enlisted personnel riots (one that I know of first hand) and subsequent large pay raises later and we have what we have today. An overworked and still underpaid group of “professional soldiers” running cover for a highly skilled well paid professional imperial mercenary force. Aka our turn of the wheel.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. I enjoyed my two year stint in the cluster fucked circle jerking Micky Mouse Club while I was there. I got to breathe once in a while but mostly it’s memory is one akin of holding my breath waiting to breathe. I’ll never forget the smell of those northwest Florida forests as they booted my ass out the rear gate of NAS Pensacola and I realized I was free. I had jumped out of the frying pan into the fire when I entered the Navy. Graduated high school on Wednesday, boarded the plane for boot camp on Thursday. This was my first real taste of freedom.

Wednesday night Johnie had a kegger party in his mother’s garage celebrating our graduation so Thursday I got to travel hung over. I hate to say it but that became the norm in the Navy. The most traveling I’ve ever done. Always after somebody’s going away party. We were always going away to some damn different post in the Navy. If we weren’t one of our com-padres were. Here’s to the sojourner, may he have a pleasant trip. Fair skies and following winds. Bottoms UP! How about another round of shots!

Well I started this post to talk about the weather. 32 degrees. Wind out of the northwest. A couple inches of snow on the ground. April Fools a few days late. Winter again. Winter still. Since Halloween. Winter. Enough already. Snowflower. Go to seed and DIE. Come back a rain shower. A warm rain shower. Last year we had snow on May 1st. I guess I’d better not complain. Then I won’t complain. It is a good excuse to write in my blog.  My new blog. Aka Cocreator’s New blog. I hope you enjoy reading it. I know I enjoy writing it. I think I’ll wheel another large log into the basement in the wheelbarrow and split it in the warmth of the fire. Then I think I’ll make another cup of tea with lemon and honey and watch a little You Tube.

Have another wonderful round of winter. Like we have a choice. Not if we’re going to live here. Before long I’ll be bitching about the heat instead of trying to create it. Besides, snow has a definite chilling effect on spring fever. It may be good medicine.

See ya then, see ya there.



The New Boss

And it’s April 1st already. All ready? Oh boy. Here we go! Again. Spewing forth. I hope we don’t get fooled again.

I am glad April is coming in like a lamb. A cold lamb but a calm one. The way the winds blew yesterday I doubt if anything not tied down is where we left it. If not for the fence behind the wind break we wouldn’t have garbage can lids. We have cats so we need lids if we’re going to use the garbage cans. Which you have to do on days like yesterday when the high winds make burning any refuse a dangerous proposition. Even if there’s a burn barrel or pit available. Not enough new green grass but plenty of last year’s old dead grass to easily catch burning and spread like wild fire. The flames a lickin’

There seems to be grass enough to lead my cows astray. The amount of hay consumed per day has really gone down as the temps have warmed up. I know it takes less fuel to keep warm in the spring than in the winter. That’s factored in. This goes beyond that. It happens every year in April. The cattle are walking away from the uneaten hay and roaming the fields looking for anything not hay. I think after a long windy cold winter they feel restless plus they’re tired of eating the same old prairie hay they’ve had since January when the alfalfa/prairie hay mixture ran out. Cornstalks. Corn husks. Cobs and scattered kernels, even old weeds and grasses. Anything but hay. They like go hide to have their new baby calves also. Another spring right of passage. Old bos meet the new bos. Lick it clean.

You’ll notice I said not enough new green grass. We’ve had a few warm days. There is new green grass. But only just barely. A kind of green tint to the long brown grass. That is, it’s been brown a long time. The old brown grass is actually pretty short around these buildings. What wasn’t grazed down before winter has been creep feed all winter for the smaller calves that slip under the hot wire. I see the robins easily bobbing along  poking here and there in the grass. They never seem to come up with anything in their beaks however. Then I notice a branch lowering from the weight of a squirrel that only just landed on it. Lickitty split.

The brown squirrel is flitting around on the branch seemingly licking the bark here and there. It goes up to tiny broken branches and seems to chew and lick on the frayed ends. I start looking closer and can see little drops of fluid beading up into drops here and there on the tree. The tree in question is a Silver Maple. I wonder if this squirrel and these robins aren’t busy lapping up the nectar of this Maple tree. Who needs a tap and bucket? Who needs to reduce it down with fire? These creatures have learned to take it like it is. One sweet lick at a time. They’ve taken tree loving to a whole new level. Lick it up.

It’s only right now!