In past years, I did worry about our hay. I wanted it cut at
just the right time, weed free, and a "no-rain" cut. I did stress about that a bit. But I don't worry about it as much any
more. As old as we are getting, I no longer expect perfection. I have a "If
we don't get what we want, we will just do something else," kind of attitude now. It's kinda freeing.
I do still try to do things to the best of my ability. I do
not like half-way stuff. It bugs the heck out of me. My grandpa used to say,
"If the job's worth doing, it's worth doing right." I can't tell you
how many times, when I was working and tired and tempted to give up, that
phrase would come running through my head. I would think of Grandpa (and my dad's)
perfection and I would tarry on, until I got it right.
The birds are an important part of our life here. I love
them. The minute we bought this place and I heard the meadowlarks and saw the
bluebirds (both birds from my childhood) I turned into a fanatical old "bird
lady". Sometimes I do still stress about the birds. Don't worry though, it's only mildly.
But I do take them as my responsibility if they nest here. They are my birds. I want to protect them, aid
them and enjoy them. Other than the
meadowlarks and bluebirds that I have already mentioned, we have killdeer, mourning
doves, northern flickers, and of course the more common birds like sparrows,
swallows and robins. We also have chickadees, and this year we had a yellow
canary and his mate. That was fun!
The other day I finally made it out to my garden. I hadn't
been out there in a couple days due to my job in town. I have a little part
time job, that I really enjoy, but sometimes it does run my life. I don't like
that part of it so much. That just doesn't seem right. But anyway, I hadn't made it out to my garden for two days,
so I wanted to go out and check my cucumbers and beans. I picked a nice bunch
of beans and then turned to my cucumbers. I was saddened when as I started to
pick, I saw a dead bird between the rows. I looked at it confused. It was whole
and fresh. What in the heck could have killed this poor bird. It was a
killdeer, I could tell by the long beak. But I wanted to look closer,to try to figure
out what could have killed this poor baby. I then looked at the legs to be sure
it was a killdeer; I knew the long legs would immediately help me identify it.
Now the little body was in no way emaciated or broken down yet, but I still just wasn't
sure what kind it was due to the way it was laying, I guess. I couldn't see its
head, and his little white belly was facing up. But when I looked at his feet,
that is when I saw what I never in a million years would imagine could have
happened. One of the runners from the cucumber plant had gotten wrapped around
the little bird's foot. It had in effect trapped the bird. When I saw it, I was
broken hearted. It was bad enough to find it dead, but when I knew it had
suffered, I couldn't help but weep. Why hadn't I heard it call?? Maybe I had, but I ignored it as their
persistent call can be pretty frequent. But I was heartbroken. This is the part of living in the country
that isn't so much fun.
Now I have found other dead birds before over the years and
disposed of them. This is the 3rd one I cried over. The other two were Western
Bluebirds. Those stories are for another day. But this little killdeer, was the
first one to get a burial. I picked him up with a plastic bag and shovel and
took him to my little pet cemetery where I buried him next to Bullet. It just
seemed right.
Anyway, I had a lot to do on this day, and I wanted to get
to it. I got my lawn mowed and watering caught up. Things I just can't seem to
get done if I have to run to town for my little job. I also wanted to finish
pulling the obnoxious weed we have acquired in our pasture. MULLEIN! UGH! That
weed!
I had already pulled about 2/3rds of the field and was
feeling pretty good as I grabbed the 4-wheeler and headed out to the last
corner. This had been quite the undertaking in this hot weather. We have
discovered there is nothing that
kills this weed. We have tried different sprays, we have tried doubling the
strength of different sprays. We have tried a mixture of 2-4D and diesel -
recommended to us by someone. That worked sort of. A few years ago, I finally
got smart and googled to see what is the best way to kill this weed. I learned
that the only thing to get rid of this weed, is to make sure your grass comes
up in the spring first to choke it out. That makes sense and it truly is the only
thing that works. And pulling it out.
This summer after we cut our grass and baled hay, the weed started coming up in
bare spots where the grass hadn't had time to grow. One step at a time for these
pastures to get back to the condition they were in before. Another story for
another time.
So anyway, all that to say, this is why I wanted to pull mullein
on one of the hottest days of the summer - at least thus far. I don't know if
it will help, but it just seemed right. Now, I was almost done and just wanted
to finish. I was already tuckered from the garden, mowing the lawn and various
other chores I had done through the day, and as I worked, Grandpa's little
saying kept running through my head: "If a job's worth doing, it's worth
doing right." That encouraged me.
And my thoughts began to wander. Now my little "farm" here is nothing
compared to a real farm, or my Grandpa's ranch. But still, for me, it gave me a
comparison. I couldn't help but wonder what Grandpa thought as he worked those
hot days. He must have surely thought about the Garden of Eden and Adam and Eve bringing the curse on
us all. Yes, I know if they hadn't, we would have. But today, I couldn't help
but think about the trouble disobedience brings. I bet Grandpa thought about
that too, as he worked.
One thing I know, and thought about often during our years
on our little hay farm is that farmers realllllllly count on the
weather/elements. You know - "Mother Nature". Rather, Father God! And
I have always said the one place other than fox holes, where there are no atheists,
must be the farms. Pretty sure, farmers pray. It just seems right.
Oh, and about that mullein -
the bees LOVE it. So therein was another dilemma for me. I hated pulling
that stuff thinking I was destroying their food source or what ever it is. The
bumble bees were thick and they were the biggest bumble bees I have ever seen.
I saw a few that were an inch and a half long. UGH! I know people want the bees
protected. And I do try not to destroy them.
I guess it is all about the balance. Pretty sure Grandpa thought about
this too. But God said to subdue the land. I also have to think about my horses
to give them good hay. So I pulled the mullein. Truthfully sometimes I just
don't know what is best to do. So I just pulled mullein and buried the dead. It just seemed right. "If a job's worth doing, it's worth doing right."
