Yesterday The Farmer got brave and decided to try walking around a little outside without his walker.  The first hurdle was getting down the porch steps, which he actually managed very well.

He wanted to see his best buddy, Toby.  Now this dog is a poster critter for ADHD, and prone to jump up on The Farmer, who did NOT discourage Toby from doing so when he was a pup.

At this stage of the game, however, that would be a definite no-no.  Knocking The Farmer on this backside would not be a good idea, no way, no how.  We don’t want to be back in the hospital getting new knees repaired!

Therefore, the game plan was for me to shut Toby out of the backyard so he and The Farmer could commune over the woven wire fence.

Here’s a little video of them communing:

I don’t know who was more excited to see the other, The Farmer or Toby!

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Yesterday I went out to do the morning chores wearing shorts and a tee shirt.
Today when I went out to do chores, I wore jeans, a long-sleeved shirt and a light jacket.

It is past the middle of October, so I guess I should expect this to happen.  A cold front and a little rain moved in during the night, but I don’t think the rain amounted to much. 

I’m afraid this weekend won’t be as warm as last weekend either!  Since it was up in the 80’s last Saturday, after all the hay was in the quonset hut, I decided it was time to give Toby a bath.  I’d put some “spot-on” flea meds on him a few days previously, but he was still polluted with fleas, digging and scratching almost constantly.

I used cold water from a hose (or hose pipe as one of my southern born & bred friends says), but Toby didn’t seem to mind.  He loves to play in the water anyway, and seemed to enjoy being scrubbed all over.

And at least now he’s not scratching at fleas!

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Okay, so technically we don’t actually make hay while the sun shines, as our farm isn’t big enough to warrant buying a hay baler. Instead, we buy hay from someone who sells small bales, as they are much easier for us to handle.

It’s not always easy to find good quality hay in small bales, because most farmers bale the great big rolls of hay. I reckon finding people to work in a hay field during hot summer weather is rather difficult these days, and big rolls of hay can be handled by one guy with a tractor and the proper equipment.

However, it’s still good to get hay while the sun in shining, because you don’t want wet hay! Storing a bunch of wet hay is a good way to a) end up with moldy hay, or b) set your barn on fire.

Obviously, moldy hay isn’t good to feed the animals. And just as obviously, you don’t want the hay to catch fire because it was wet. Sounds a little weird to say storing wet hay can result in a fire, doesn’t it? It’s that good old spontaneous combustion thing!

If you’re not familiar with the phenomenon, it happens because wet hay can create a high relative humidity in the air around it.  This allows plant and microbial respiration in the hay which generates heat, elevating the temperature of the hay.

As the hay gets hotter, the microbes die which causes “oxidative chemical reactions” that increases the temperature of the hay even more. Once the temperature gets to 140 to 150 degrees, the process accelerates and by the time it hits 175°F (80°C), farmers are advised to call the Fire Department.  No kidding!

If the hay temperature gets to 212° (100°C), the process is too far gone to stop. The temperature rises rapidly at that point and the hay is almost certain to catch fire.

Of course, a lot of things affect if and when this happens, but the critical factor that starts it all is wet hay. So there we have it, the reason why it’s good to make hay while the sun shines!

And the sun was shining brightly this past Saturday when we got our hay. It took The Farmer three trips to get it all hauled. The guy selling the hay helped him load it at that end, then when he got home, The Cave Geek and I helped unload it. 

Actually, I only rolled a few closer that fell short of the storage hut. The men did most of the work, while Toby and I watched. That sounds like a pretty good deal, doesn’t it?

 The Geek became quite adept at tossing those bales into the shed so all The Farmer had to do was toss them on the stacks.

It’s tiring work, and when the bales quit flying through the air, Toby went in to inspect the new pile of hay.

He and The Farmer are best buddies, so while The Farmer rested from his labors, Toby kept him company.

And now we’ve got hay to feed when the grass dies back during the coming winter. It feels good to be prepared!

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Every morning, rain or shine, hot or cold, the critters need fed. So every morning except Saturday, when The Farmer does the chores, I’m outside taking care of critters.

Since I’m already in my outside-doesn’t-matter-if-they-get-dirty clothes, that’s a good time for a walk too. The Farmer keeps paths mowed in the bottom pasture, and Toby and I go round them at least once every morning.

But I missed going in the woods like I did in the winter and early spring. A couple weeks ago I told The Farmer about trying to go in the woods, but the growth was so dense, it was just too much hassle, so I gave it up.

Fast forward to the next Saturday. The Cave Geek and I were inside working on something. It was a nice fall day, so we had the doors open. We kept hearing this noise. Cave Geek thought it was a shop vac. The people next door have been doing some remodeling so that wasn’t unreasonable. I thought it sounded like a weed eater.

Later when I went out to check on what The Farmer was up to, I discovered we were both wrong. The sound we were hearing was our riding lawnmower stopping and starting way out in the woods, cause The Farmer was mowing a path for me.

How sweet is that? I merely mentioned I missed being able to walk in the woods, and he came up with a way so I could do it again. It’s really cool. Kind of reminds me of a state park or something. All we need is little signs here and there.

Now, I enjoy walking in the woods and so does Toby, but the dog has a MAJOR phobia about electric fences. He won’t cross one, he doesn’t want you to carry him over one, he doesn’t want to come within light years of one.

My favorite theory is one day he indulged in his favorite hobby and hiked his leg to leave his mark, this time on the electric fence. I think perhaps some rather sensitive parts got zapped, and thereafter there was NO WAY he was getting close to the electric fence.

Since the path into the woods started at a spot where the electric fence going around the bottom stood, he wouldn’t go into the woods with me. Never mind that The Farmer took down the fence there, he knew there used to be an electric fence in that spot and he didn’t want anything to do with it.

That was the first day.

The second day he finally realized the fence really and truly was no longer there, and by the time I came back he was sitting just inside the woods waiting for me.

On the third day he followed me right into the woods and kept close.

By the fourth day he’d decided this was a lot of fun, and before I even got to the woods he was bounding ahead of me and running around in the underbrush.

Now when I head for our walking area, he’s way ahead of me and goes toward the woods.  Today he discovered it’s great fun to wade around in the creek.

I doubt he’s over his phobia, but one thing is sure and certain, he’s discovered there’s no fence barring his entry into the woods now, and he’s loving it!

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I may feel human again, oh say, in another century or so.

Well, when you consider in the last week, mostly the last 4 days, I got 100 bags of fiber ready for sale, I guess it’s no wonder I’m a bit done in.

Wednesday I worked on wool.
Thursday The Farmer and I both worked on wool.
Friday morning I worked on wool.
Saturday I worked on wool.

I was sooooo thrilled when I threw the final bag of skirted wool onto the pile yesterday! And then took down the skirting table, swept up the bits of fleece scattered all over the floor, mopped the kitchen floor and otherwise got rid of the mess I’d made.

Of course, the den is now full of fiber. One couch is buried, with wool up the sides of the wall, and piled in front of the couch.

There are bags of wool, bags of alpaca fiber, bags of llama fiber, and even a bag of mohair. There are bags of trash wool, bags of scrap wool, and old bags from previous storage.

At least the smell is better with the wool bagged up, but it

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Things are wooly bad around here.

Why do I say that? Well, there are bags of wool all over the house right now. I had them stored in the basement, but then I made the mistake of putting an ad for the fleeces at a greatly reduced price on an elist. I just wanted to clear a few out of the way.

Over 45 inquiries later, and I’ve probably got more requests than I’ve got wool.

At first I figured I’d just work on it whenever I had some extra time, and sent out an email telling people it would take a while before I got through all of the wool, and please be patient, I’ll get to them as quickly as I can.

But then I realized that wasn’t going to get it. The wool gets everywhere, and it’s too big a hassle to clean it up every time I get a fleece ready. My living room and den have been taken over and I can’t stand the mess or the smell… time to finish this up.

So tomorrow The Farmer and I are going to have a Wool Work Day. I hope we can get through all the bags of wool, then I can clean up most of the mess and start packing up orders.

That’s going to take a wooly long time. (I know, I’m really baaaaaad.)

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