Change of Scenery

With the thermometer hovering near 100 degrees for the past week, I am ready for a change of scenery. Kind of like Goldilocks, I am seeking "just right" - not too hot, not too cold, but that magical time when a sweatshirt is like a warm hug on a chilly morning. I must admit a little envy when I see people posting photos from their Colorado vacation cabins, bundled up with a fleecy sweatshirt.

I don't know whether the heifers were ready for a change of scenery. But they got one anyway. We moved them from one pasture to another on July 8. Though it was a couple of weeks ago, it seems like longer. The morning we moved them, it was cool enough that Randy wore a long-sleeved T-shirt. Believe me, that hasn't happened since, and it's just a fleeting - though welcome - memory. 

We moved the 25 heifers and one bull after they'd been at the "Palmer pasture" for a couple of months. That pasture is not large enough to sustain that number of animals all summer. Even though there was a good amount of grass still there, Randy decided a nice, cool morning was a good time for a move. I married a wise man!

After we got them gathered in the pen, we herded about 10 at a time in the barn ...

... and into the waiting cattle trailer.

In three trips, we brought the heifers to the pasture south of our house, where they'll be dining for a few weeks.

We'll reverse the process and take them back to the Palmer pasture later this summer.

Mr. Bull got a chauffeured ride back to the home place, where he's hanging out with some late-calving cows.

His job is done for the season. We hope the "ladies" are still working hard, gestating a portion of our 2016 calf crop!

Checking In On The Kids

It's always good to check in on the kids. You never know what kind of trouble they can get into when left to their own devices. Tearing up the property? Unexpected visitors? Eating all the food?

Though I'd much rather check in with my granddaughters, we instead loaded up the 4-wheeler and went to the Ninnescah Pasture to check on the baby calves and their mothers. With harvest behind us, it was time to make sure the fences were still standing and everybody was at their assigned location with no other visitors crashing the buffet.

We couldn't believe that they were all gathered close-by, and we didn't even have to unload the 4-wheeler. And, if truth is told, I was looking forward to a 4-wheeler ride down by the river. Oh well! It was getting dark pretty quickly anyway by the time we were able to go.

Everybody was present and accounted for.

 

They were their curious selves and came to check out the interlopers to their pastoral abode.

The pretty sunset was a bonus.

(I'm running behind with my posts. This actually happened July 8.)

Smut on a Family Blog

I know this is a family blog, but I've got to talk smut. What is the world coming to, when a farm wife from Central Kansas is putting smut out there on the internet?

Believe me, I'd rather not. But before you call the Morality Police, I'd better 'fess up. Yes, smut can mean "obscene or lascivious talk, writing, or pictures."

And these photos are obscene all right. But they fit a different definition:  a fungal disease of grains in which parts of the ear changes to black powder.

It kind of looks like aliens invaded a few of the corn ears.

I emailed my brother, who is a lot more experienced with corn than we are. He sent me a 22-page PDF from researchers at the University of Illinois and St. Joseph's University in Philadelphia, called "Common smut of corn." There's nothing common about words like "ascomycetes, basidiomycetes and oomycetees." Thankfully, he also sent me a 4-page Reader's Digest version, "Common Smut and Head Smut in Corn" from AgAnytime.

What is boils down to is this: Yes, we have some smut in our corn fields. Common smut in corn is caused by the fungus Ustilago maydis. They are greenish white or silvery white in appearance as they develop. As they mature, the fungal tissues begin to turn black with the development of teliospores. Head smut is caused by the fungus Spahacelotheca reiliana.

And if these researchers find it hard to distinguish one from the other, I will just say I'd rather we didn't have it. Nobody needs smut in their life. I'd rather I didn't have to talk smut on a family blog. But if one of my goals is to chronicle our farm life, I need to be real. And that means talking about smut.

Thankfully, it doesn't all look like that. We also have normal looking ears developing.

We got from 0.10" to 0.20" of rain a week ago. We could have used more on the corn and less on the hay that Randy put down. The corn has not flourished with temperatures above 100 degrees every day this week.

But such is life on a Kansas farm.

All's "Fair!"

Jill's very first year of 4-H foods judging

Today is the first day of the Stafford County Fair. Even though I haven't had 4-Hers at my house for the past nine years, I'm still a superintendent for 4-H Foods and Nutrition. Yesterday, I spent part of the day setting up for the judging. This morning, I'll be at the fairgrounds by 8 to be ready for the judging, which begins at 9.

She looks scared to death to talk to the judge. The innate talker finally won out in subsequent 4-H years! I also remember that cake. It was entered in a microwave division. It wasn't that good, but we didn't know much at the time. There's no microwave class at the 2015 Stafford County Fair. That's a good thing!

This is the fifth year we're doing the judging in a nearby church basement, which certainly helps combat the heat on the fairgrounds -- until I need to set up the displays and get everything organized there. (THANKS to the Stafford Church of Christ for this community service. With triple-digit temperatures expected again today, I am grateful!)

Randy will help weigh in pigs this evening and then will help during the swine judging on Thursday morning. So, even though this is the ninth year we are "4-Her-less," we still find small ways to help out. (True confessions: We are definitely not as involved as we once were. We retired after a dozen years as community leaders when Brent graduated, and we gave up our project leader jobs a few years after that.)

Still, why do we (and a bunch of other 4-Her-less people) continue to show up to work? It's because of what 4-H did for me and my family.

A 4-H talk circa 1973 or so

Both Randy and I are 4-H veterans, he in Stafford County and me in Pratt County.

Randy in 1967, a 5th grader and his first year in Stafford County 4-H with his first 4-H steer.

Jill and Brent both joined 4-H as soon as they were old enough. I look at that photo of Jill with her first-year cake (the photos at the top of this post), and I think about how much she (and I) grew and learned. She went from that uneasy first-year 4-Her to a confident leader.

She chose her profession - a registered dietitian - at least in part because of 4-H foods and nutrition.

Randy continues to advise people on their bucket calf and beef projects (when asked) for much the same reason. Our kids learned so much through that project. And their livestock premium auctions proceeds also helped them pay some of their college expenses.

They both learned that it takes perseverance. You sometimes have to dig in your heels to get things accomplished - literally and figuratively. There's no better lesson on that than trying to break a bucket calf to lead.

4-H is a powerful youth program:

Young people in 4-H are three times more likely to contribute to their communities than youth not participating in 4-H. 4-Hers all across the nation are empowered to take on the leading issues of their towns, counties and states and make a lasting difference. ... 4-H youth get the hands-on, real-world experience they need to become leaders and to make positive differences in their communities.

"The 4-H Study of Positive Youth Development"

 from Tufts University 

I, too, have case study after case study to back it up. My research isn't done in the hallowed halls of a university like Tufts. It's more in the sweat produced by working side-by-side with 4-Hers, parents and other volunteers on a hot day in July.

Brent's final year of 4-H - 2006

I'll have even more real-life examples when the last of the exhibits comes down Saturday evening. Good luck 4-Hers, parents and volunteers! And, if you're in the neighborhood, stop by the Stafford County Fairgrounds on North Main in Stafford, Wednesday through Saturday, and be part of the fair!

This post is revised from the archives.

Worth the Wait?

The farmer says it was worth the wait. But he wishes he'd had our new Case IH DC-163 mower conditioner (AKA, a pull-type swather) sooner.

"I should have traded five years ago," is his assessment. But he's not sure all the features were available five years ago.

We traded our old swather and baler last December after we'd used them 10 seasons. The baler came in time for our first cutting of alfalfa earlier this summer. But, due to a glitch at the dealership, we had to wait on the swather for several more weeks. At least it showed up before August, the date we were originally told.

There was rain in the forecast last week. Randy held off starting to put the second cutting of hay down on Monday and Tuesday, but it didn't rain. He put some down on Wednesday and Thursday, so, of course, it rained Friday morning - but only about 0.10" to 0.20." 

The long tongue connects it to the tractor, giving enough length to maneuver it without hitting the tractor.

Randy is not exactly sure why, but he's using one-third less fuel pulling the new equipment, probably because it doesn't pull down the tractor's engine as much.

The rotary knives are mounted on turtle shells. (When he told me that, I thought Ninja Turtles from Brent's preschool days - strong and quick!) Anyway, the knives are cutting the hay better. He says he's able to control the cutting height better as well.

The mower conditioner is 6 inches wider, which may not seem like a lot, but it does make for fewer trips up and down the field.

Randy says it seems to be built stronger and has fewer moving parts than our old one, which should make fewer things to go wrong and make it easier to fix. Well, we can always hope.

"And the paint is prettier."

You might think I would have said that. But it was actually my farmer. 

Let All My Life Be Music

Mary Beth Cunningham and me, July 1975

And on a thrilling major chord

There let life end.

We said goodbye on Sunday.

Mary Beth Cunningham was one of my private voice teachers during high school. I started voice lessons when I was in junior high. My first teacher moved, and, at the time, I was devastated. I didn't like change as a child any more than I like it now.

But it turned out to be one of those blessings in disguise, though I certainly don't want to imply anything against my first teacher. For a year or so, Mrs. Cunningham didn't have room to add me to her studio. Thankfully, my parents convinced Nancy Kerr to teach me, though she wasn't teaching full-time. She is a phenomenal soprano, and I learned a great deal from her in my short time under her tutelage. I have always been grateful.

I then became Mrs. Cunningham's student, and we finished the final two years of my high school career together.

I wasn't much of an athlete. I was out for sports, but I spent my time scrimmaging against the first-team girls during practice and holding down the end of the bench during games. I was more known for singing The Star-Spangled Banner in my basketball uniform than I was for actually playing ball in it.

Music was my thing, especially vocal music. Mrs. Cunningham believed in pushing students. I remember the first song I sang for my initial voice teacher was "Tammy," from a television show. Mrs. Kerr and Mrs. Cunningham had me singing soprano arias. Mrs. Cunningham believed in working hard and striving for excellence. It was a message that resonated with this first-born overachiever.

Because I have accompanied for school, I would sometimes see Mrs. Cunningham at music festivals, where she still served as a judge. Watching her work with middle school students always took me back to my days standing at her piano, where she taught me to breath deeply, to enunciate and, most importantly, to interpret the music. But, even years after my lessons ended, I never could bring myself to call her anything other than "Mrs. Cunningham."

Yesterday morning at church, I sang a solo for special music. As Mrs. Cunningham's vocal student, we were always working on a religious solo. Each summer during the church choir hiatus, I'd sing at both my church, Pratt First United Methodist, and at hers, Pratt Presbyterian. After I sang yesterday, I shared with the congregation how influential Mrs. Cunningham had been on my life, and that she still impacts my life 40 years after walking out of her living room studio after my final lesson with her. It's a good lesson in how people touch us, and a reminder of the great connections we can make by using our God-given gifts in love and service to others - no matter our vocation, interests or talents.

My sister, Darci, also took voice lessons from Mrs. Cunningham, but she and my sister, Lisa, have always preferred piano. My brother, Kent, had her for private lessons, and she was also his high school vocal teacher at Pratt High School, where she directed him as the lead in The Music Man. My niece, Madison, was the last in our family to take private lessons from Mrs. Cunningham. (Kent & Madi sang a beautiful duet version of The Lord's Prayer at yesterday's memorial.)

After my senior year in high school and before I went to K-State, I gave a senior recital. It was 40 years ago this month on July 27, 1975. My sister, Lisa, and Mrs. Cunningham accompanied me. I sang several arias, along with art songs and selections from musicals.

One of the songs that afternoon was called, Let All My Life Be Music by Charles G. Spross.  (Click the link for Ben Heppner's version.) When I got to college and wanted to sing it in one of my voice classes, my college instructor thought it was a little too melodramatic. It probably was. But I always loved it anyway.

As I've remembered Mrs. Cunningham, those words came back to me:

Let all my life be music
Ah, let the heart of me be as a harp
Where joy and pain are blended harmony
Strike! Strike! The harp that is my soul
Though pain or joy it bring
My only sorrow to be dumb,

My only joy to sing!
And when the Great Musician plays
In notes of joy or pain
Then let my heart respond and sing
Though in a minor strain
A wondrous song! A living song! A rapturous song! Oh send!

And on a thrilling major chord

There let life end.

During the memorial service, a choir composed of her students sang, directed by her former colleague, Don Buhler. We got together Saturday morning to practice, and, by Sunday afternoon, we were performing four songs. There was a wide age range -- from high school students, who just lost their private teacher, to people like me, who still remember the lessons after 40 years. Others were in her school or church choirs sometime during her 56 years in music education.

Thanks to my sister-in-law, Suzanne, for snapping a photo

The final song was Battle Hymn of the Republic. For former Pratt High School choir members, this selection was a quintessential program finale for their former teacher.

And as the final notes in four-part harmony drifted away on the stage of Liberty Middle School in Pratt, I thought again to the lines from "Let All My Life Be Music."

And when the Great Musician plays
In notes of joy or pain
Then let my heart respond and sing...

And on a thrilling major chord

There let life end.

It was a fitting tribute to a life well lived.

Thank you, Mrs. Cunningham -- 1936-2015

Summer Spinach Salad

When it's 100-degrees in the shade outside, a cool summer salad is just the right accompaniment to a harvest meal - or any meal.

Jill found this salad recipe on one of our favorite food blogs, Iowa Girl Eats, and suggested I try it, too. She had taken it to a church potluck and again to a work lunch. I had planned to follow suit and take it to a church potluck to say farewell to our departing pastor, but harvest field duty called instead. I guess my version also got served for a work lunch, in a manner of speaking. My lunch companions just had more dirt and grease on them than Jill's did.

Corn adds to the summer theme of the salad. You can use fresh corn, but I think it tends to be starchy raw, and I prefer thawed frozen corn in this type of recipe. I used green onion in my version of the salad, though the original recipe called for finely-chopped red onion. I like the milder onion, but use whatever you prefer.

From left front and clockwise: Green onion, dried cherries, toasted almonds, feta cheese surround corn in the center.

The dried cherries offer a sweet touch, and feta cheese lends a complementary tang. (You can also use blue cheese or chevre, but feta is what's readily available in my fridge.) Toasted almonds give the salad just the right amount of texture and crunch.

Then, a homemade Lemon Poppyseed Dressing brings it all together. You probably won't need all the dressing; I didn't. I just saved it for the next time I made the salad.  I served this salad twice during harvest - once as an accompaniment to BBQ meatballs and cheesy potatoes and again with a Spicy Sausage Pasta. However, this isn't a salad that saves well. You'll need to make it fresh each time, so adjust the amount of ingredients you use accordingly, and enjoy!

Summer Spinach Salad

with Lemon Poppyseed Dressing

Adapted from Iowa Girl Eats

5 ounces baby spinach
3/4 cup sweet corn (fresh or frozen)
1/2 cup dried cherries
1/2 cup sliced almonds, toasted
1/4 cup chopped green onion (or red onion)
2 ounces feta cheese
Lemon Poppyseed Dressing
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice
2 tbsp. sugar
1 1/2 tsp. poppy seeds
1/2 tsp. Dijon mustard
1/4 tsp. salt
1/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil

Combine ingredients for Lemon Poppyseed Dressing in a jar with a tight-fitting lid and shake to combine.

Combine all salad ingredients in a large salad bowl. Drizzle on dressing to taste and toss to coat. I didn't use all the dressing for this amount of salad. You can save it for another day (and more salad)! When you refrigerate homemade dressing made with olive oil, it sets up in the fridge. Just remove it from the fridge and let it return to room temperature before using it.