Saturday, March 12, 2011


The barn is complete. In 32 days flat. Amazing.

That's exciting news on its own, of course, but it also heralds the arrival of our furry family. The barn will be their nightly quarters, their days filled with our daily work on the land.

I think they're both a bit shocked by their new digs, but they're dealing with it.

Mayim, whose name means "water" in Hebrew, quickly found her namesake. For her new abode in West Texas, that's pretty impressive.

Aslan's not quite sure what to think of my driving a tractor.

For two dogs who've only known fenced backyards and leash laws, this is definitely a new normal. 

Friday, March 11, 2011


The poles are harbingers of the current that is to come.

We are just a few short days away from having electricity on the property. Insert hallelujah chorus here.

Now all we need is an outhouse and we'll feel almost civilized.

Thursday, March 10, 2011


I've been reading The Dirty Life, a memoir of another couple's farming adventures. Hands down, it's wonderful and highly recommended, but one line in particular arrested me today.

"It's never the way you think it'll be [this farming life], . . . Not as perfect as you hope or as scary as you fear."

As we sprint from urgent priority to really super critical to potentially threatening and then back again, this brings me great comfort. It's neither as perfect as I'd hoped--that trailer still needs painting--nor as scary as I'd feared. At the end of another fifteen hour day, with no prospect of a break on the horizon, with all the unknowns, undone's and uncertainties still before us, I'd choose this path again in a heartbeat.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011


Where do you begin looking for the serial number on a piece of equipment that is a quarter of a mile long?

Answer: No clue.

But one thing I am sure of--this pivot repair is not OSHA approved.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Loving technology

As adults, my sister and I lived in the same town for ten years. I was there when both her kiddos were born. She was there the first time I ever cooked dinner for a boy--and burned it. (Ever the big sister, she came over on zero notice, cooked up a completely new meal out of thin air, and then disappeared before his arrival.) We even trained for a marathon together. Those were ten very fun years. 

Being so far apart now is a bummer. There is just no way around that. And today I was reminded how thankful I am for technology and such things as ichat. Even the stuffed animals were grateful for a reunion.

Beautiful butterfly!

And new hand-waving skills! I'm so proud.

Love you cuties! More than words can say. And as soon as your mama allows, we'll go race the tractors.

Monday, March 7, 2011

A baby grand canyon

Last year it rained 13" in 24 hours. For an area of the country that receives a total annual rainfall of approximately 17", that's a lot. Ahem.

The result? About a quarter of a mile of the field washed away.

So that's a problem because it uncovered irrigation pipeline, and made it dang difficult to get a tractor through there. Enter the dump truck and four days of moving dirt. A whole lot of dirt.

A whole, whole, whole lot of dirt.

In the end, that quarter mile was all filled in real perty like. Kudos to Nicholas for orchestrating a successful dirt-saving operation.