Quote of the Day

"Well, the chickens that've survived...look pretty good!", Dad.

Relocation, relocation, relocation

Bythe dim light of a huge moon (GORGEOUS shot included), the intrepid troupe of me, Dad and Peter headed out to separate the chickens.

Yup, they're almost growed up now, time to expand the coop.

33 of the roughly 90 surviving flock were relocated to the new digs.

They're slow and stupid-er at this time of the evening. They've settled down and won't run away. Smarter chickens would be INSIDE, but not these ones.

So, it's just a matter of putting them in the crate, carting them to the other coop and disgorging.

Then they're all settled in for the night.

Cluck, cluck.

Flood Vice-Dictator appointed

Mom and Dad left for a little anniversary get-away (49 years...holla!) and in his stead, Peter is in charge of flood management with dictatorial powers.

Interestingly, the guy who appointed Dad left town too and his vice-guy has no idea all this has been decided.

And there's poor Peter out there revving the bulldozer.... :)

Flood Dictator appointed

As mentioned in an early post, for years Dad was warning the local watershed committee to lower the water levels at Good Spirit lake, just a couple miles to the northwest of us. But NO, they wanted high water levels for boats.

Be careful what you wish for. While Yorkton is flash flooding to the south, the lake overfloweth on the other side of us.

An emergency meeting was held to discuss the imminent ruin of the surrounding area...and guess what?

Dad was appointed the Flood Dictator, should the lake bust around the control gates, Dad has carte blanche to do whatever he needs to minimize the damage. Like...he gets to call someone (?) and say "Bulldoze the road!" He'll be the one to issue evacuation orders to the honey farm down the road. "Get out of there!" Cool!

Turns out, he actually knows what he's talking about and knows the area the best. When the water comes, he knows where it will be heading.

Blub, blub.

Secure the perimeter

Coming into the yard after walk and Dad zoomed up on the quad. Turns out three bulls have busted out. They were in isolation in the corrals...guess they didn't like that. Have I seen them?

Um...no. But I heard the cows making a ruckus over there... He perked up. Zoom!! Off to the yard fence. I trudge after him - no quad hitching for me.

We peered into the field...and who did we see? Hawaiian Bulll (known for his swivelling hips) and the little black bull, who as it turns out, is actually a steer. Somehow no one noticed his lack of balls until quite recently. In isolation until the meat wagon shows up. But, apparently feisty, he was one of the escapees.

It seems they are about to cruise into the yard...they're on the people-side of the fence. Dad zooms off. I continue to watch the action. I hear a 'hey!' from Dad...I rush over to consult. Does he need help? Shall I saddle up the golf cart to leap into action? Turns out he's just telling me to move...the bulls are going to come my way. Oh.

What can I do? He has no idea what the plan is yet. Have I seen Peter? I point him in the direction of the sound of the other ATV. Zoom!

I head into the house to capture the action on memory card. I zip up to tell Julia about the drama unfolding outside her window. She's dozing...I go away.

The guys have a plan....open the yard fence gate to the pasture and let the bulls in. Brilliant!

All goes well...barring some significant hoof prints in the lawn.

Soon, escapee #3 shows up and follows his pals into the pasture.

Original bull is last seen posturing atop a dirt mound, making sure the newcomers are clear that this is HIS herd. Men.

Tomorrow...move the whole gang to a new pasture and peel off the three back to corrals. Good luck with that!

UPDATE:
Apparently the bulls left a trail of very deep, very soggy hoof prints in the garden. Right through my row of carrots. Bummer.

Break in the weather

To celebrate the third day of no rain (apart from brief overnight showers), TWO mowers are going full steam ahead today.  

That's Mom in her jaunty pink camp and Dad working the backfield.

Take that, you crazy-growing-lawn.  Take that!

Blub blub...

Record-setting rainfall here this year.  The most in a million years or something like that.

The house is now waterfront property with the appearance of a pond in the front yard and our little highway is awash in flood waters by the bridge to the 'big' highway.

Mom can be heard muttering "this is stupid" as she crams the bedding plants into any non-mud dirt she can find and laments the yellowing of leaves as she careens around the yard in the golf cart (she just sped by the window inspecting the north-east corner of the yard).

She tries to find Chris to help push her out when she takes the lawn mower into too-soggy land - she's trying to avoid Dad's stink-eye for not having heeded warnings to stay away.  But "goll darn it" the grass is like hay already!

Meanwhile Dad is doing a "told you so" to the local watershed committee from which he resigned in protest several years ago.   He was ignored in his insistence that the local lake's water level was being kept way too high...lining everything up for a big mess if wet weather continued. 

Well guess what?   There are reports of sandbagging underway to try to protect waterfront cabins and the do-hickey to drain the lake into the channels is WIDE open, but nowhere close to keeping pace with the water rising.   A lot of eye-rolling going on.  Never mind the long-disappeared beaches, now the potential for uncontrolled general flooding is very real.  

Four more days of rain expected.  Strap on the water wings.

At least one segment of the population is very pleased...the mosquitoes.

Rough Day in the Coop

There was a wee Candillo family outing to do the Chick Check this evening.

We refilled the water and marveled at how fast the chicks are growing....the usual.

Just about ready to leave when I noticed one belly up in the back of the corral.  Yup, definitely dead.  That makes two.

Chris lifted it out with the pitchfork...a brief eulogy was completely disregarded as it landed in the burn barrel.

We're looking for patterns in deaths.  The only thing so far is that Dad was doing the Chick Checks prior to each discovery.  We're not pointing fingers...yet.

Forensics are inconclusive.

Philosophical Breakfast...

Somehow we got the topic of global warming over rhubarb crisp (hey, it's got oatmeal AND fruit/veggies) this morning.   Dad wondered why melting icecaps will cause rising sea levels.   Ice is denser than water, when it melts, the level doesn't change.  Wasn't that a 7th grade science project?  The glass full of ice and water is currently sitting on the kitchen counter.  Discussions to resume at lunch.

I noticed Peter quietly sitting just looking out the window at the (very) wet and rainy yard.  I was going to ask him if he was okay and then thought..."Why wouldn't he be okay?  Isn't that just as valid as sitting watching TV?"

So, I shared my train of thought.  Dad agreed and pointed out when they were growing up, there was no TV, and only a little radio, so people visited more, worked together more, played cards and generally had more to do with each other.  That doesn't happen anymore.  Neighbours live farther apart as the homesteads disappeared, everyone has TV and internet...no need to visit. 

Ain't technology grand?

UPDATE
The laws of physics remain unchanged from my time in 7th grade...the ice melted and the glass did not overflow. Whew...

UPDATE 2

Clearly science class served me well...ice is LESS DENSE than water.   Duly noted Dad. :)