Winter Ice Fog

At 5:00 this morning I let the dogs out. There was a fog in the air. They call it Ice Fog.
By definition it is only seen in extremely cold Arctic air. Well it was only 6 degrees this morning. I think that is Arctic enough. Some how ice crystals hang in the air and they seem to deposit themselves on everything. It reminds me of little feathers sticking up off the branches.

The trees were covered by the time the sun came up, and they just glistened. I couldn't take enough pictures. I also realized, I really need a better camera to take some of these shots.

The crystals were on everything and they stuck out only on one side of the item they were attached to.

Except for on the barbed wire, the ice crystals seemed to go all the way around it.

I think this was the coolest picture I took today.

Every bit of the wind chime was covered.

Hopefully my pictures are worth a thousand words, because you really have to see this to really appreciate it.

Winter's Project

It seems like over the past 29 years we have lived in this house, we always have something going on. A remodel of a room, or garage, a barn being built, a water line installed or some thing that has to be replaced, like a furnace , roof, or hot water tank.
Being farmers, most of our good weather is used making hay. So when we do have down time to do house projects, it is usually in the winter. Many of our projects have been started
January 1st. There isn't a particular reason, but my best guess is the guys have cabin fever.

This year was no different. I was scheduled for hand surgery January 8th, and on January 4th, the reconstruction of the bathroom started. The timing wasn't that great, but we had the help, and I wanted it done.
Having a 1960's ranch, building codes where lax to say the least in those days. We have learned from previous projects, that you never know what you are getting into when you start.
We had some idea what this project may include, because we have semi remodeled it before.
It was a lick and a promise kind of job, paint, some new fixtures....
This time we were doing it from the bottom up, literally.
Some of the floor joists were cut in the original construction of the house, which caused the floor to sink 1 1/2 inches. I can't tell you how long it was that we had house floor jacks holding up the floor.
Several of the joists had to be replaced, which meant jacking up the house and putting in 12 ft boards. But it worked. Next came the demolition, to the studs!
New sub floor had to be laid, new dry wall had to be hung and a new tub surround put in.
Oh, by the way did I mention, we only have one bathroom. We do have a shower downstairs, but only one toilet. It had to be removed and replaced several times, depending on what phase of the construction we were in.

The new tile floor was put in by my BIL G2.

It was awesome. My brother put in the rest of the hall floor. The paper template on the floor is were the vanity will go. It is on special order and should be here in 2 weeks. We had such a problem getting one to fit the small area.

Dave wanted to go with the juniper ceiling. The wood is the same wood that is in the beach house in the OBX. It smells like cedar and the bath feels like a spa!

We chose a full size shower and surround. It only has a 4" ledge, and as we get older, we have to worry about accessibility and falls. All the walls were reinforced for grab bars to be installed at a later date.

Mick and his friend helped with the painting, because I have a splint on my right hand and cannot do anything.....AGGHHH! The paint is a blue glaze over white and it looks like clouds, very soft. I love it.

The lights are in and the only thing left to do right now is the exhaust fan and new door. Of couse the vanity will be set when it arrives. This was a major project for us, so I think I will rest for now.

Welcome Winter

So where did fall go? We really aren't ready for
the cold and snow, but Mother Nature has different ideas.

Mick has cut and split a lot of wood for the wood furnace, and we have to get it all stacked. He is thinking it is going to be a cold winter. I don't like the cold and snow, it hurts my bones.
I had to get the heated waterers out for the chickens yesterday. They don't seem to mind the cold, but I know I had some guineas with frozen feet last year. Hopefully it won't be as cold this year.

We got our first taste of snow the week of Thanksgiving, up until then, we were
in the 60's during the day. Now that we
got the first snow, it cold, and really cold!

Welcome Fall

Fall shows up and here I am another year older. You wonder where all the time goes. Then I sit back and look at the photos I have captured and they tell my story and document my time.

I can see that I haven't had much time to blog, I know I have been outdoors most of the summer.

When I am inside it was to can tomatoes and pickles and various other crops.

My photos are slightly out of order and it is too early in the morning for me to mess around with them. This is Tiffany's new Classroom. She is now teaching at Garfield Elementary. It is the school the boys went to. I had to make her new curtains for her room.

Besides all the canning, I also messed around with chicks, and chickens. I am trying some different breeds for variety. I like the odd and rarer breeds, but they can be fussy to raise.

I find the mortalitiy is higher than your standard chickens, but they are so pretty.
We had a small issue with the gender of some of the flock. I gave some hens to an urban farmer friend, and we found out later that it was a rooster, and no roosters in the city allowed! So they brough it back to me and we traded for another hen. Then they called and had another rooster from a friend, so now I am the proud owner of a Black Cochin Rooster, and he is GRAND!

The fall flowers are gorgeous and the weeds have taken over most of my beds. There just wasn't enough time to kepp everything in A1 condition

Along the way, I went back to work this summer, only to break my little toe again, so I was off for another 8 weeks. Now I am back at work and back to my old department. Hopefully it will be easier on my bones.

Now we wait for winter!

Ruralosexual

This Article appeared in our local paper. The author is John Gladden, and his columns are hilarious. Thanks John for your humor.....we love it.

You might be a ‘ruralosexual’ if you can relate to this column
By: John Gladden July 21st, 2009 · Medina Gazzette

In recent years, the term “metrosexual” has burrowed its way into the public dictionary, describing a person who is urban, stylish and has a penchant for luxury. The word has been applied to the likes of actor Brad Pitt, soccer star David Beckham, and others among the similarly hip and famous.
Somehow, it doesn’t seem to describe me or most of the people I know. Most of us don’t live in big cities, couldn’t care less about what’s in fashion, and don’t spend a dollar we don’t have to. We’re more like “ruralosexuals.”
How do you know you’re a ruralosexual? Well, the first sign may be that you are vaguely uncomfortable with any word that has “sexual” in it.
Nevertheless, you can bet you’re a ruralosexual if:

Your idea of entertainment is pulling up a chair and watching the chickens strut around the yard.

The smells of good hay and freshly turned earth are better than perfume.

You run a tab at the parts store.

In summer, you mow your grass once a month, whether it needs it or not.

Most of what’s in your freezer is food you produced yourself.

You know where to find wild berries all summer long.

Throwing something away goes against every moral fiber of your being.

You have stay-at-home clothes and going-into-town clothes.

A good day is when you don’t have to go into town at all.

Your idea of getting a snack is taking a paring knife and salt shaker out to the garden.

You slow down and look at every truck, tractor or piece of equipment for sale at the side of the road.

You’re always racing the sun.

Your thumbs and the sides of your index fingers are stained with dirt for the duration of the

summer from pulling weeds in the garden.

It’s just “fair,” not “the fair.” As in: I’m getting ready for fair.

Your spouse can tell how nasty a chore you plan on doing any given day by the age and condition of the ball cap you put on when you walk out the door.

You’ve taken care of puppies and kittens abandoned on your road.

You’ve reached your hands into places that would scare Indiana Jones.

You’ve fixed things that would stump even MacGyver.

You’ve put on moves that would rival Michael Jackson as you’ve danced out of the way of moving livestock, angry bees, loaded skunks and ankle-twisting groundhog holes.

The wannabes in the cowboy hats just make you smile.

You spend more time outside than in.

You don’t know your own cell phone number, but you have the vet’s number memorized.

You’ve “used the facilities,” shall we say, from a moving tractor because you didn’t want to stop work.

You’ve stopped work to let a family of rabbits scurry to safety.

The patches on your clothes have patches on them.

You know how to blow your nose without using a tissue.

Every time you hear someone driving a tractor up the road, you know who it is by the sound of the engine.

Broken-down vehicles and rusty machines just seem like a natural part of the landscape.

You’ve nearly put your vehicle into a ditch because you were so intently studying a garden, building, crops or animals you were passing by.

Your primary unit of organization is “pile,” as in: a pile of scrap, a pile of manure, a pile of wood, a pile of trouble.

You enjoy getting soaked in a well-needed rain as much as plants do.

What was supposed to be a “temporary fix” on a building or piece of equipment has lasted 10 years.

You live by the rule that if it’s free, you take it.

In the winter, you’d rather watch the fire in the stove, or the fireflies outside on a summer night, than to watch TV.

You worry when the wind blows, when it’s too dry or too wet, when it’s too cold or too hot.

You’ve been so filthy, you’ve had to undress on the porch before being allowed to enter the house.

You wish there was an open season on trespassing four-wheelers.

You have an everyday pocketknife and a special-occasions pocketknife.

A date with your significant other usually involves a stop at the tractor store.

You’ve got dirt under your fingernails, except for the one that’s busted off.

You pull off your T-shirt and your skin looks like you are still wearing a white T-shirt.

You’ve stopped along the road to salvage a stick of firewood that fell off someone’s truck.

You envy people with 40-hour workweeks and regular paychecks, but you wouldn’t trade places with them for anything.