Weekly pic: the pocket farm journal
It is one dadgum small thing after another, I’m thinking as I walk out to turn on the water in the hoop-house. So, before proceeding further, I stop and pull out my stained and battered journal, sit down on a horse-mounting block, and write down all the little things I need to do this weekend (or at least very soon).
- Pick up trash dogs scattered around yard, farm, and drive.
- Move sheep panels we used to transfer pregnant ewes to barn; do before it starts to rain.
- Go to hoop-house and water veggies.
- Put trash cans away.
- Feed roosters.
- Butcher roosters.
- Bring hay to ewes in lambing pens.
- Bury stillborn lamb.
- Eartag untagged lambs.
- Order cabbage seed.
- Hang duck prosciutto under stairs to finish curing.
- Start calling quirky and foolish people “wackadoodle.”
- Work out on elliptical.
- Unload feed before rain. (Addendum: Unload feed during rain.)
- Continue cleaning barn.
- Smoke cured tasso ham.
- Roll up extension cord I keep tripping over in breezeway.
- Dig trench (not “very soon,“ but someday) for electric cable from main barn to equipment shed.
- Fix broken roost in chicken coop.
- Clean and sharpen favorite axe that was missing for months and just found buried in lumberyard muck.
- Pull up fall turnips and feed to sheep.
- Research property taxes owed on recent sale of back pasture.
- Go into Knoxville and move twin bed from storage for Aunt Jo.
- Cut down damn paulownia growing in pawpaw orchard.
- Load rotted firewood and move to gully.
- Cover spring garden spaces with tarps.
- Move last year’s mulch and till into ground in hoop-house for late winter plantings.
- Service farm tractor (including recharging battery) and start small tractor.
- Write blog post listing all the little things that are starting to pile up.
I’ll tackle that last one first (after unloading the feed). That done, maybe I’ll relax and read a book, take a nap, drink some coffee, then peer at the skies while contemplating the remaining hour of daylight and how to use the time most efficiently.
Follow
Brian,
Whenever I get bogged down by the sheer multitude of tasks that need attention on the farm, I remember the saying taught to me by a crusty old German retired farmer who lived next door. “Idle Hands are the Devil’s Playground” Alfred would say if I ever complained about the workload. I repeat it often in jest, but Alfred was serious as a heart attack. LOL
Or, as my mother (may she Rest In Peace) used to say, Never put off till tomorrow that which can be done today!! And she, too, was deadly serious!
Well, Heather, I put off, boy, do I put off.
Yeah, me too! Probably why I had to listen to that saying so often.
Thanks for sharing, Don.
I get it. This last week has been a doozy. First it started snowing last Friday and continued off and on for several days accumulating over three feet of snow. Then we had high winds that knocked out the electricity for a day and downed 23 trees across our mile of dirt road from the house down to the county road. So we moved snow with the tractor until we came to a tree, cut it up, moved more snow, rinse and repeat for six days until we made it to the county road. In between, regular chores had to be done. One night I went to close the chickens up only to find 7 of my pullets outside stuck in the deep snow. So I dug them out got them in the coop and I went to the house where I told my husband I was ready for the day to be done. It was a bone weary week and I was starting to feel sorry for myself. Very, very sorry. Then it dawned on me, I chose this life! I’m living the dream! I had a good laugh on myself. I wouldn’t trade this life for anything no matter how much work it is and we’re blessed!
So today I’ll do necessary chicken chores and then start on my list to do once spring thaw arrives. It will be long, as in it will take me years to accomplish, but hey, ya gotta have goals right? ; )
TeresaSue
I’m not sure, T.S., 23 trees and I might have handed in my credentials!
26 trees. To plant. And I’ve got the choice between doing it alone tomorrow or with help, but in the driving rain, next week… Spoilt.
Two steps forward, and….
31 in the end. And probably quicker this way than if I’d have had to explain myself…
recent sale of back pasture.
Oh dear, it sounds as though the South Roane homestead shrinketh… someday to truly be a Small Farm (yet with a Future)??
No worries on that score. There were a couple of pastures in the back forty that we no longer used. They were hard to get to, through neighbors fields. Removing baled hay was always a pain.