What?! End of September!

The farm has changed considerably since my last post.  We've got our 3 acre field fenced, which includes 27 dug and cemented posts, Lord knows how many t-posts and 700 feet of fence.  We couldn't have done it without friends and family toiling alongside with us.

And then came the cattle herd, three orphans I traded with my brother for a couple of websites.  A bottle fed Corriente heifer named Rosie, who is about a year old (as I write this I can hear her bawling out in the field for a little morning grain) and two younger bull calves, Libre and Huerfano.

The chickens come and go (ask me about the Christmas Eve Eve massacre), but presently we have 14 bantam layers, pictured below eating Kale.  They are quite the producers of leetle tiny eggs.  Omlettes and Chili Rellenos are scrumptious, if I do say so myself!

Putting the arm in farm

As cheesey as the title sounds, that's exactly what Steve and I did, and we have the sore muscles to prove it.  We spent the weekend fencing our new 2,000 square foot garden.  After much consideration, pacing, marking, measuring we brought out the good ol' Ford PowerMaster and started drilling one of five holes that would serve as corner posts around the garden.  Sounds easy.  It is once you hand dig past the 15 inches of clay.  Steve had me laughing with his haunting spiritual songs about digging clay.  We spent the first day hand digging, until we could hardly lift our arms, between the 16 lb. bar for breaking up the dirt, and the hand post hole digger, we are definitely more fit today than yesterday.  Upon burying each post 36 inches, we started pounding in t-posts in between each wooden posts.  Late in the day on Sunday, we got out the rotatiller and went around the garden twice, hand digging our 'rabbit moat'.  See photo above for results.  That was all she wrote for the weekend, we crawled into the hot tub and thanked our lucky stars for the extra space to grow our own food!  Next stop: 4 ft. wire fence and chicken wire in the moat!

Just Wondering

So upon ascent up the mighty Berthoud Pass last Wednesday morning, I spied a helicopter obviously circling and searching on the steep slopes of the formidable mountain.  We pondered a host of situations that could lead someone to be caught with their ski pants down in the backcountry.  We passed Search and Rescue trucks, Sheriffs, and more cars that hinted at an active search.  Wow!  This is exciting in a horribly life/death kind of way. 

So naturally, the next day I went on the web to get the low down on the situ.  And indeed I found an answer, only to net more questions.  

http://www.summitdaily.com/article/20100305/NEWS/100309885/-1/RSS
Guang Ming Lang, a 26-year-old Chinese citizen who speaks limited English and is a graduate student at University of Michigan, “left the top of Berthoud Pass at 6:30 p.m. (Tuesday) with no snow travel equipment, no food, no water, no map or compass, no light source and wearing light-weight clothing and low-cut boots,”

These are my questions to the crazy Chinese dude.
First one.  Graduate Student?  Really?
Second.  6:30pm?  In the dark?
Third. Were you on meth?
Fourth.  Are you receiving psych meds for this problem, now?

Confessions of a Colorado Ski Girl

Colorado Ski Girl.  Not a bunny.  A rabbit.  At least that's what I'd like to be thought of...  Sounds so fresh and outdoorsy.  Capable and adventurous.   And it is, because these are the realities of making a day on the slopes happen....

Prep - make breakfast burritos (a staple for starting the day out with lots of energy), accomodate the meat eaters and the vegetarians.  Bake a snack, this past weekend it was a delectable zuchini cake.

Get up early - 4:30am we turn the stove on to put the breakfast burritos in, make coffee, chai for the thermos, make sandwiches, throw in a bag of chips and call it lunch! 

Feed, Water and let the chickens out.  They will protest, it is indeed, too early.

Remember to load everything - skis, boots, poles, water, dog, kennel, gear, extra coats, avalanche shove, battery jumper, it's incredible how we fit it all in. 

Drive - On average 2 hours, but it can be as long as 3 hours when the snow or traffic dictate.  From Berthoud, with a stops in Longmont and Niwot to pick up friends.

Ski - bumps, steeps, powder, trees, cruisers - I love it all!  Enjoy a tailgate party.

Drive - join fellow bretheren in the piligrimage back down I-70, drop into the canyon to boulder, see all the gamblers going up for the night, head to Longmont and drop friends, then home to Berthoud.

Lock the chickens in.

Hot tub.

Eat. 

Toast a glass to a full day. Grateful for our safe journey.  For my framily and my friends.  Thankful for the mountains and skiing, I carry them close to my heart, glad my girls loe the same.   I'm proud of being a Colorado Ski Girl.

Word.

Just as the meadowlark trills her perfect song after a long winter absence, and the redwing blackbirds in droves are now sending out their humming call. And my leetle tiny chickens are laying their leetle tiny eggs again. I have returned to my blog.

I love a chronicle of events (you should see my photo libraries). I like seeing where I've been, remembering good times and sharing with others. Capturing it. Taking my memories hostage. Writing helps me keep track of my life, somehow. Keeping a good old fashioned diary. My writing roots go back to my Gramma Marj, who daily wrote in her diary. A Duluth/Chicago gal from a family of 11, who loved a good Manhatten while she wrote a single page, or paragraph. And turned into what would become volumes that described and chronicled her life. She would start out noting the temperature, and then delve into matter of fact accounts of the day. She never let me read it, as she taught me it was private. But I got the idea and the bug. And I wanted one. And indeed, she was the one who gave me my first diary, a blue plaid canvas diary with clasp and key. sigh. I still have that diary, and reading my fat loopy writing, just makes me giggle.

My mother, Diane made sure my spelling was correct and that my papers had solid structure. She was a biology professor, and a college valedictorian, so she knew her stuff, I couldn't have had a better teacher. I would hand Mom my school paper for a review and in short order, she would return it, marked up in red ink. But she did it lovingly, and with encouragement. Lucky me to have such a fine teacher as my tutor, mentor and mom.

And certainly, credit must go to Dr. Werner Heim, my first block professor at Colorado College, teaching 'Heredity, Evolution and Society' with an emphasis on writing in Fall 1982. He never once laughed at my effort, or insulted my intelligence. He just methodically and surgically shredded my first thesis and outline during a face-to-face meeting in his Olin Hall office, that left me weak in the knees at each subsequent visit. Maybe it was his thick german accent. Maybe it was his intensity. But I listened, and rallied, and learned much. I'm a better writer, even though I couldn't understand why anyone would ever have children, given all the harrible statistics in the field of genes, chromosomes, and diseases. I didn't need to see that elaphantitis leg, either.

And thanks to my friend Jillian, and her kick ass blog http://www.isdisnormal.com/, for the connection, encouragement, and invitation to the digital word dance.

And to the movie 'Julie & Julia'.

So now I'm drinking up the satisfaction not only writing these words, but remembering these thoughts, and people. Manna from heaven. Word.

Let the Orchard Begin!

July 25, 2009 - After using our new posthole digger to loosen up the dirt, we dug out five big holes for the fruit trees. My friend Holly Molly works at a tree farm and we got the deal of the century on five fruit trees. She and her husband Eric came with a big truck carrying the five trees and a skid steer in the morning, we've definitely got friends/experts in the right places. :) Eric deftly removed the trees from the truck, pronounced our holes 'perfect' and then we started placing the beauties. A Plum, two Apple Crisps, and a Pear went into the 'pool yard', creating additional barrier from the road and making a nice introduction from the arbor. The cherry tree was planted in the newly fenced backyard, eventually making a shady spot for Luca. When we were done we sat down to a well-deserved lunch - BBQ/Shredded chicken sandwiches, potato salad, and chocolate revel bars. We asked the trees to kindly GROW and give us some fruit. They are working on it.

Sweet! Our first harvest.

July 21, 2009 - We have been 'beebeesitting' some bees for our beekeeper friend Philbee and he came out the other day to check on the bees. Well, lo and behold, many of the bees were swarming on the outside of the hive. They have been very busy bringing in bloomers of pollen, and apparently had outdone themselves, almost filling the one level of the hive. Phil raced back home and brought back another level, removed the top of our hive and discovered an overflow of honey. He scraped the raw honey off onto a baking sheet, gently sweeping honey drunk bees off. Then he put the second level on, leaving the bees to settle into their new digs. Phil tells us that the first year of establishing a hive you don't usually collect honey, as they need it to winter over, so this excess was a true bonus. I will never forget Phil handing Steve a chunk of dripping raw honey fresh from the hive and the look of both wonder and ectasy that overtook my husband's face. Indeed, the honey was divine. We now know what our land tastes like from a bees perspective, that's very cool. Phil gave us half the honey that he collected, and we dole it out as if it were liquid gold, and indeed, it is.