Ouchy Flowers and plowing.

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These are ouchy flowers as our 5 year old great grand calls them. Tar weed is also a noxious weed in the hay fields around here. 

 

The north field was plowed, it's across the road from

the south field, full of tarweed. The south field was disced, dragged but not plowed. At this point, mid May it was so  full of tarweed the hay will be unsalable.

This last shot is of the plowed field, the space around the power pole that was unplowed, solid tarweed. 

Putting the grain drill away.

The grain drill is irreplaceable, no one makes small drills any more. This one has had the horse tongue removed, the driver originally balanced on a board behind the seed box. Now rather than fool with putting the horse tongue on, then off, to pull the drill home or let Fay's sons use the drill with their small tractors, we simply hitch the drill to the fore cart and go to work. 

You see Fay standing on the board to vacuum out any leftover seed. Any grain left in the drill rots and molds plugging the tubes and causing rust.

Over the years the drag chains have worn out and various bits of old iron have replaced the missing links. My favorites are the recycled, welded horse shoes.

Use it up, wear it out, fix it as best you can.

May oats make hay oats, although we're really sowing barley.

I'm never on time with blogging. I  just get posts done as I catch the time. 

This series of pictures is from the 4th of May when we finished planting the last field. Late, worried about there being enough rain and the field not prepped as it should have been because we don't have a horse plow. 

We don't give up though.  

What happens when he sits and thinks.

 

Are we going some where dad?

What happens when he sits and thinks? Since we farm in different places, he figures out how to move equipment efficiently. If the weather ever quits off and on again raining, we're going to mow hay. The first fields due are little grass patches, too small to do with the tractor and nine foot swather.

Hence using the horse mower.

 

 And the fore cart with the rake. The rake is already delivered and waiting, so we don't have to hook it onto the back of the fore cart. Just as well, I think he'd've done it.

 

Okay, Mom, what're we waiting for now???

 

Checking to see if I'm doing okay at the other end of the train.

 

We're drove out in two parts and came back with just the cart.  A lovely Memorial Day outing.

Just never know about chickens.

I don't keep track of who lays when, but among the six survivors of our first Rhode Island Reds is the lady who lays the lumpy eggs. Always has and is just as faithful as the rest. Fay's never seen one like this either, not in all the years he's farmed and had chickens.

Hillbilly Lawn mowers.

Hillbilly lawnmowers: how we mow our lawn and also occasionally our neighbor's place. Which is where I caught these pics.

That's my Granny!

Motorcycle Grandmama

Edna Ellsworth, 97, realized a longtime dream Wednesday. “I’ve lived in Dufur all this time, since 1979, and to think I was able to ride into Dufur on a Harley!” When Ellsworth noted that she had wanted to ride on a Harley motorcycle all her life, Ken Catlin, Flagstone Senior Living’s dietary director, took note. “You can ride with me anytime, you’re great,” he said, after they rode together to lunch Wednesday in Dufur, where We 3 Coffee & Deli provided a spread for Ellsworth and her friends from Flagstone. Ellsworth was born Oct. 11, 1912. Mark B. Gibson photo