Monthly Archives: July 2012

Eye of the Tiger

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This story is to pay tribute to the animal on the farm that doesn’t exactly make the money, make the city kids swarm with anticipation to pet, or command the most respect from the CEO (the farmer). This small character served a purpose that we always took for granted, but was as equally important in function, as it was in companionship….The Farm Cat.

Throughout the years, there were many…but only a few made the grade.  When I say made the grade,  I’m not talking about city, lap sitting, purring, get your meal out of a grocery store kitty tin, advertised by a white, fluffy hair cat that eats out of a champagne glass.   I’m talking farm cats!  Tough. Mean. Hunters with purpose.  Darwinian, survival of the fittest!  Tom and Jerry on steroids type of stuff.

Farm life is interesting. In all aspects. There is a certain part of it that goes on at night, after you go to bed. Things happen.  Crazy things.  I can’ t exactly explain…because, well – I was in bed. During the summer nights and without the luxury of air conditioning, the windows were always wide open.  My sister and I shared a room when we were younger.  We would be laying there, trying to go to sleep when we would hear things. Creepy things. Weird yowling. Hissing. Injury screams – horrendous animal fighting.

As little kids,  we would make any excuse in the world to NOT go to bed: I have to go to the bathroom, I need a drink, I’m not tired...or… DAD!!!! Something! SCREAMING! FIGHTING to its DEATH!  OUTSIDE MY WINDOW!!!!

Dad would rush in our bedroom, in complete irritation and explain to us not to worry and that it was just the wild tom cats fighting with each other….or if it’s super high-pitched screams with low gurgling undertones, it’s just the raccoons fighting…or maybe a combination of the coons fighting with the cats.  GO TO BED!!! Dad would slam the light switch off, close the door with vengeance, and we would be left in dark nothingness –  listening.

I’m not sure what goes on in farm cat land after dark, but if I had to assume…these fights were based on the reasons that spark most wars in the world – territory, food and girl cats.

There would be an extended chorus of low-pitched yowling, which I would assume is the equivalent of cat, smack talk. This would go on for a while, and then it was like someone hit a boxing bell and the fight was ON!  Contact.  I mean, full-on cat fight contact. Cats yelling and screaming, growling, cat punches, claw swats, tail pulling…the fight for life. Mind you, I have never actually seen one of these wild, night fights, but believe me – the sound of tail pulling is vicious!

There are a few champions that come to mind when I think about the tough ol’ farm cats…but there is really only one that held the title. We had a cat on the farm that outlasted and out-hunted most. He was a real fighter – a boxer, a real contender.  That cat deserved a name threaded with courage, gut and gristle. But, as young as we were – we settled for the obvious.  It was yellow and it was a cat, so that’s what we named it – Yellow Cat.

All of us kids knew that Yellow Cat was wild.  He always watched us from a distance, but never came too close.  There finally came a time when he came close enough to steal a pet on the head and it was over.  The barrier had been crossed, and from that day on, he never left our side.  You could not be outside without Yellow Cat trying to get petted, or curl around your leg purring.  I swear there was something wrong with that cat’s purring mechanism – it was like there was a megaphone connected to it.  As soon as that cat saw you fifteen feet away, you could hear it purr in the distance.

Okay, I know I just described the personality of the cat that eats out of the champagne glass, but make no mistake. Yellow Cat had a dark side and more than nine lives. He was a fighting champ! But being a champ, you have to roll with the punches. Between the raccoons, possums, juiced up farm rats (which were by the way, the size of most lap dogs), skunks, and other wild, tom cats – Yellow Cat took some beatings.

Most mornings, that cat would be limping, bleeding, eyes half-swollen shut, and usually with a bit of pus weeping out of some facial injury.  Yellow Cat would always be in a cheerful disposition, looking for a pet, sounded off by his megaphone purring.  I’m not sure if there were any cats in Night of the Living Dead, but that is close to what this cat looked like after fight nights.  He was hard to look at some mornings, it was all you could do to just pet the thing with one finger, trying not to offend any injury.

Yellow Cat was around for years and was always in the background watching us kids no matter what we were up to on the farm.  Whenever we start to reminisce about the old times, and personalities from the farm – Yellow Cat is always part of the conversation.

We’ll always remember Yellow Cat like Rocky – fighting for farm cats everywhere, with ‘Eye of the Tiger’ playing in the background – protecting his territory and ultimately kicking some serious CAT BUTT!

*Just a side note – Mom and Dad gave me a camera when I was eight. Like all eight year-olds with their own camera, I took a bunch of pictures that were what Mom liked to refer to as a ‘waste of film’. This picture being one of them. In the story when I talk about Dad running into our room after we would yell for him to come save us – one of those nights I took a snap shot right as he walked in. Notice the very un-thrilled, over-irritated look on his face. Do you see the light switch? Becky and I had some rainbow thing with dangle pieces on it. Dad would always get tangled in the mess trying to slam the light switch off – we would giggle about that for at least fifteen more minutes after being told to go to bed.. well, until the cat fights started.

Freezing Corn

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Corn, to “put up” or freeze, is a time-consuming vegetable.  There are several stages to the process so each ear has to be handled for every step.  I have a young family of 4 so it’s not  terribly difficult for me and am able to get the process done in a single morning.  If you are freezing for more than 4, two of which don’t eat much, it can take a couple of days or at least one day sun up to sun down.

It’s best to pick the corn the same day you are processing it.  If you can’t, it’s not the end of the world, I just wouldn’t enter it into any corn competitions.  For me, this means being in the cornfield by 6am.  I would much (and I can’t emphasis this enough) rather do the work in the morning than afternoon or night.

After the picking, the next step is the husking.  Kids are pretty good help for this job, but you might have to remind them a time or two to take off all the silks.

Now it’s inside for cooking and cooling.  This is the step or steps where you have to be on your toes not leaving any batch too long in the cooking or too long in the cooling tub. Quick in, quick out.  Cooking times vary depending on who you talk to.  I say the less time the better.  I didn’t leave any batch in the cooking water for more than 5 min.  After cooking, very quickly move them into the cooling tub to stop the cooking process.  When your cooling tub water starts to get warm, empty it and fill it with cold water again.

Now that the quick work is done, the following steps are cutting and bagging.  This takes time and a little practice.  When I was young, grandpa was in charge of cutting.  Cutting takes the most experience.  There are fancy tools out there to help you with this, but just a plain old knife works also.  When you are cutting you have to find that spot with your knife where you are not cutting to deep into the area where the kernel meets the cob.  Also, you don’t want to cut too shallow where you are wasting corn or have to go back for second cuttings.  Like I said, it takes practice and I am not great at it, but I’m getting better.

Cutting and bagging the corn are the messiest steps and plan on having to wipe down most of your kitchen when you are done. Bag as you cut, and use a measuring cup to get your corn into the bags.   Quart size bags are good to use.  This year I used quart sized bags, but only filled them up about halfway.  I have found over the years, that it is easier to pull out 2 bags if you need extra than to have more in one bag than what you wanted and will ultimately get forgotten in the refrigerator and wasted.  When you have all your bags filled, or in my case half filled, get them into the freezer and use them as needed through out the year.

Freezing corn is worth the trouble.  There are a few vegetables that are worth the trouble of growing and putting up yourself and corn is one of them.  We did not grow our own sweet corn, but have neighbors who do and do a very good job.  Despite the growing conditions we had this year, this sweet corn was really very good because it was irrigated.  If you are buying sweet corn this year, and live in the midwest, beware!  Ask if it’s been irrigated and if it hasn’t don’t pay premium price for it.  Most growers are honest about the product they are selling and have their corn discounted this year.

The Farm Wife

Today’s Harvest

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The tomatoes are rollin’ in.  Everyday there are a few more to bring in and make something out of.  The more circular in shape tomatoes are Celebrities, the odd shaped red ones are an heirloom beefsteak, the yellow one is an heirloom yellow beefsteak.  That one, by the way, weighed 1 and 3/4 lbs.  The pepper is a Big Bertha.  I will be inside making salsa if anyone needs me.

The Farm Wife

The Farm in July

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My tomatoes are livin’ large this year.  I believe they like all the sun and warm weather we have been getting.  I water them once a week so they don’t care that it’s not raining.  The farmers corn on the other hand is a different story,  So are the apples, the  grapes and everything else I just planted this spring.  Having a drought summer is not a lot of fun.  You have to keep a close eye on everything which has put a major damper on my weekend getaways.  I just hope that it doesn’t continue into the fall and winter.

I did secure some sweet corn from neighbors that have been irrigating it.  Awesome!  I totally lucked out on that one.  A lot of people are going to have to go without sweet corn this season.  I thought I was going to be one of them, but a last-minute hail Mary pass was completed. Now there is 12 dozen ears with my name all over them.  Stay tuned for next weeks installment of “Freezing Corn”.

This is a little curious to me.  I have never had an eggplant do this.  Usually I will have just a couple on a single plant.  It must be the variety.  I pulled a few of the small ones off in hopes that  the bigger ones will do a little better.  I will have to wait and see if these turn out ok.Like the tomatoes, the basil couldn’t be happier with the warm temperatures as long as they get their shot of water once a week via the sprinkler.  Just beyond the basil, you can see how brown our lawn has gotten.This Hibiscus is always a nice surprise every year.  I transplanted this from our old house and it does so much better here on the farm.  It’s a surprise because I don’t even notice it until these big blooms pop out.  Usually this happens around my birthday.  This year they are a little fast.  My birthday is in about 3 weeks so there is some heads up for you  to start your shopping now.I happy with the way my garden is looking and producing this year.  I am hoping for a record tomato harvest, the peppers are also doing great and every plant has several nice looking peppers on it. Here is some of the corn that is really having a hard time this year.  It is not common for us to not get the rain that we need during the growing season.  For that reason, we do not irrigate fields.  At this point, the experts are saying it’s too late  for our corn crop to be salvaged by rain.  We will do what we can with it and take what we get and pray for a better growing season next year.

The Farm Wife

 

The Cattle Bandits

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Our farm had been in the family for a few generations.   In the early 1900′s, before the time of refrigeration, there was a small building on the farm that housed the food that needed to be kept cool – the milk house.  Fast forward 80 years into the future, and it was still standing strong to see my generation.  Unfortunately, in our time, it was mostly a useless building. Well, maybe to some – but for a few farm kids, it was the perfect CLUBHOUSE!

Us kids had that old milk house perfectly decked out. There was an old, black and white TV, rotting our basement that we lugged out to the clubhouse. Clearly, you can’t have a totally cool clubhouse without a bit of technology. This TV probably weighed about a 100 pounds, complete with a hanger for an antenna and two knobs that you could dial in the only four stations that were available in the world of rural nothingness. I think there was only one station that actually came in, mostly fuzzy.

Do you remember when your parents specifically told you NOT to do something?

Well, I remember Mom telling us NOT to watch soap operas on television. So… of course, that is exactly what we did behind closed, clubhouse doors.  The words ‘young and restless’ described us exactly, so I guess there is no surprise why that was our favorite soap.

We eventually grew out of the clubhouse, but The Young and the Restless was always a part of summer vacation. For one hour a day, my sister and I were basically unavailable.  Dad knew it, and rolled his eyes because of it, but as long as the chores were done – he didn’t complain too much. . . except for this one time.

The credits were rolling at the end of another unmissable episode of ‘who was having an affair with who’, when Dad and my brother walked into the house, after running some errands.   Dad blankly asked me, “Where are the 4-H cattle?”  He was referring to our three show steers.  Awaking from my soap opera daze, wondering what would happen on tomorrow’s episode, I half-wittedly answered, “They’re tied to the bunk, I just watered them.”  Dad looked at my brother, like I was suffering from a stint of amnesia.

We all walked out to the small bunk where I left three steers, happily eating. It was a scene from a ghost town.  All of them – GONE!  There was not immediate panic. Cattle get loose – not really a big deal. We just needed to take a few minutes to look around.  They probably wandered down to the lot to be with the rest of the cattle, or maybe for a bite to eat in the pasture – the grass is like green-gold to them. After about thirty minutes of searching on the farmstead… panic started to set in.  Dad’s otherwise, laid back disposition was beginning  to diminish.

The questions started to elevate in tone, and fired off in rapid, machine gun format. “When did you tie them UP? How long were you in THE HOUSE?  Did you tie THEM UP GOOD!” Cattle DON”T JUST DISAPPEAR! DID YOU HEAR ANYTHING!”

I didn’t have a chance to respond to any of the questions before the next one was asked, but the last one caught my attention.  Did I hear anything???  ”Dad! Hear WHAT!?! – the cattle walk away???”   The frustration was evident, as was Dad’s dwindling patience.

When emotion-fueled panic takes over logic – clearly, there is nothing left but  over-thought, paranoid, conspiracy theories.

Dad was short, “Yes! Did you hear anything?  Did anyone pull into the driveway?”  I instantly knew where Dad was going.  Hey, it happened in the Ol’ West – it could happen to us…CATTLE BANDITS!

“Three steers just don’t disappear – DON’T tell me a few thousand dollars just WALKED OFF THIS FARM!” Dad said. “What were you DOING! Did you HEAR a truck pull in the driveway!?!”  I clearly explained that I was only the house for an hour watching, The Young and the Restless. Dad instantly  interrupted me, and we’ll leave out  his comments after my explanation of where I was. Dad went on about the cattle bandits, and how I could possibly miss a truck/trailer taking the cattle –  when something caught my eye.

It was my saving grace. In the distance, a little pile of brown glistened in a sea of green grass, in the form of a clue – a fresh pile of POOP!

We were on to something. Unfortunately, the pile was a little too close to the road.  We walked a little further, and looked down the road, hoping that we were wrong. There, in the further distance…another pile of poop – ON THE ROAD!   In the world of farmer, there is no worse feeling than the animals out on the road.  We followed the steaming, piles of clues for about a half-mile down the road, when suddenly the trail went dry.  Thanks to an early morning rain, we picked up three sets of hoof prints in the muddy ditch,  leading into an open field. The tracks made some circles and then just ended.  No poop. No leads.  The trail was cold.

After a long hike, standing in the middle of the field with nothing left to follow, the frustration was taking its toll , especially on Dad. We walked that entire field.  They were gone.  ”HOW IS THERE NO TRAIL!  THIS field is MUD!” Dad yelled, pacing back and forth. We stood out there for another 45 minutes, just hunting for another clue.  ”Did Aliens just ZAP them away!” Dad yelled, sarcastically.

It was hopeless. The field was surrounded by fence and dense forest preserve.  If they did get passed the fence and got into the woods, they were as good as gone.  After Dad’s sarcastic alien comment, we knew the hunt was over.  As soon as we started to walk out of the field, we heard a slight rustling noise. There was something in the thick brush.

There they were – all laying down, completely camouflage, behind a broken part of the fence… totally chillin’  - chewin’ their cuds, taking in the great show. Those steers were watching us the whole time – yelling, pulling our hair out, in the maddening search for a single, fresh poop clue!

So the great steer hunt had come to an end. We knew that a rain shower had come in earlier that morning, which had allowed us to pick up muddy, hoof prints.  The short rain shower came in after I had tied them to the bunk. The rope halters shrunk when they got wet, causing the knots to slip – ultimately leading to the great escape. Case closed.

The moral of this story is clear – don’t rule out the obvious… because you never know when a cattle bandit might be lurking!

Our County Fair

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The county fair is a big deal for a 4-Her.  I know because I was one once upon a time.  I lived for the fair.  My projects would range from cooking to animals.  This all took place in the 80′s and early 90′s.  Back then fairs were still quite popular and quite well attended.  When I started showing my beef projects, There were 3 full barns of beef cattle.  Now beef and dairy are in one barn and there is room to spare.  Those were the good ol’ days.

Fast forward 15-20 years and we moved to another state and another fair.  Our fair now is the Lafayette County fair and it is still a decent fair and a family can make a fun night of entertainment out of it.  My kids are too young right now to be in 4-H, but don’t think I don’t brainwash them about how much fun we are going to have as soon as they are old enough.  I show them where our cattle will be, where Cori’s flower arrangements will be judged, where the chickens will stay for the week.  I just want them to have as much fun at their fair as I did at mine growing up.

Last night was stock car races at the fair.  It’s not my favorite thing or even on my list to ever see again, but its got its own appeal I guess you could say.  It wasn’t torture.  I enjoy watching the crowd more than anything.  We were sitting by several families that had loved ones racing and it was fun to watch the race and feel their excitement.  We cheered as other cars spun out.  I didn’t quite understand that.  Maybe it’s bonus points if you get someone else to spin out.

My daughter, asked me, before the night was over, what was my favorite part about the evening.  I had to think a minute because we were just having an all around fun evening it  is hard to pick out your favorite part.  I told her that it was the chickens.  I love the fair chickens.  I like to see the different breeds that people bring in.  The meat birds are so funny if you are not used to seeing a bird bred to produce meat.  They are huge compared to a regular chicken.  Her favorite part was the rides.  Both kids brought their “egg” money (money for selling their chicken eggs) and got to ride a few rides.  When I was her age, I’m pretty sure that was my favorite part also.  Now I can’t even look at any ride that goes in a circle.

Meat bird. Check out the legs on that boy.

The Farm Wife

Today’s Flowers

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The Sunflowers are here!

My favorite Sunflowers are the  Mammoth Russians.  They are very tall with a thick stalk and one large head.   I like to watch them bloom, then as the insects pollinate them the heads become too heavy with seeds and droop down.  At that point, the heads are like dinner plates.  They are just awesome looking.  I leave them up all winter and let the birds eat the seeds.

These are not the  Mammoth Russians, although they are still beautiful, these flowers came from a stalk with several heads.  It’s not my favorite to look at in my garden, but I love to cut them and bring them into the house. My mom used to give me a sunflower with my birthday present when I was younger and I was probably more  thrilled with the flower than the present.  I don’t even remember the presents, but I remember the flowers.   Now I grow my own and when they are blooming it’s like my birthday everyday.   My daughter’s birthday is coming up and I think that I will continue the tradition.  Since she will be 7, I am already prepared for her less than impressed face when she sees that I am giving her something that I picked out of the backyard.  Someday she will appreciate it. 

The Farm Wife

Much Needed Relief for the Garden

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I have not had to water my garden (even a little bit) since the summer I got married.  That summer was dry but not drought or anything.  I had a lot of material that year that was newly planted and I just wanted everything to look really nice for the wedding which was at our farm.  This year is very dry and my garden is just not going to survive without some water.

My tomatoes are looking so nice.  I am still hoping for a record crop.  I know the farmer was looking forward to a record crop in the corn field, but those dreams are all but out the window now.  There still is hope, it’s not a goner yet.

So what are the rules of watering?  I can’t speak for everyone, but out in the country we water gardens and newly planted landscaping material and that is about it.  Lawns don’t get top priority.  If I start to see signs of distress in my apple trees, I will try to keep them alive.  I just hope it doesn’t come to that.  The last major drought we had was the summer of ’88 and my apples were not around then.

I do remember ’88.  I was about 10 years old and I just remember it being hotter than blazes.  We did not have air conditioning and my dad actually wore shorts a couple of times.  My dad NEVER wears shorts so that was a big deal.  Everyone remembers the summer of ’88.  We had several days that hit the 100′s and lots of days in the 90′s.  Summer is our fun season, and it’s no fun when you walk outside and can’t hardly breath.  We have air conditioning now so it doesn’t seem so bad, but telling the corn and garden that we are comfortable in the house doesn’t seem to do the trick.

We will keep praying and hope this doesn’t turn into another drought of ’88.

The Farm Wife