Yes, you read that right. More rain. It came down in sheets starting just before midnight on Friday night (6/27). Jim was watching the radar and kept me posted how it looked. “Whelp, it looks like it’s raining at the combine but it looks like we won’t get anything here. It’s headed Northeast”. Then he fell asleep on the couch and it began to rain. Well, first I noticed the intense lightning that kept flashing through the closed shades. So I went to the door and realized the storm was headed directly for us.
Tag Archives: wheat harvest
raincation – day 5
This was on the side panel of the New Holland demo combine.
I slept in this morning. Why not? Nothing was pushing me to get out of bed.
our raincation
It was a brand new morning! The events of yesterday were the first thing I thought about but a little easier to accept.
It was a beautiful morning so I decided to grab my fishing pole and go down to the pond for a little while. I stood by the edge and watched two rather large trout swim in front of me. They were taunting me, as if to say they knew I wouldn’t be able to catch them. Watching them reminded me of a recurring dream that I’ve had. In the dream, I’m always standing on the edge of a lake (more like a cliff) looking down in the water and the water is so clear. So clear, I can see the fish swimming around. Anyone out there know what the meaning of that dream could be?
how quickly things can change
I was reminded today just how fast something can change.
This morning, we noticed Bub (the cat) was out of the dog pen. We figured he was small enough to go through the fence but he hadn’t figured that out – until this morning. I had done all I could to plug each gaping hole along the sides of the pen with anything that would work. I was told the dog could be locked in the pen but how fair was that? We were the visitors. Why should he have to do something out of the ordinary?
So, I quickly scooped him up before the dog saw him, took him back to the pen and closed up any hole that looked like may have been big enough for him to get through. And then I saw it – he went right through the fence. Well, this was a problem. How in the world would I keep him in now? My only hope was that he would kick into survival mode if that dog spotted him and began the chase.
We had just poured some coffee and was “fixing” to have a cinnamon roll when I heard it – Bub’s cry. I went outside to see what was going on only to witness him in the dog’s mouth. I rescued him but it was too late. It’s been a rough day! If you haven’t been following my blog for long, you may not know about Bub. He was rescued by a neighbor and brought to my house when he was about 2 weeks old. I bottle fed him and fell in love with him. There’s a picture of him in my last post, “just tinkering”.
just tinkering
Look who made the trip and is keeping me company til the girls get here. Isn’t he growing!!
One thing is certain with harvest – nothing is certain!
I had an idea when we left home we may be sitting for a little while before we did any cutting. That appears to be the story. Our farmer has a combine. To make the situation a little easier to understand, our farmer also has a Shelbourne Stripper Head (to see what I’m talking about, click here to view a Shelbourne Head) and uses it to cover his dry land wheat. The stripper head removes only the head of wheat and leaves the straw. It does exactly what it sounds like it does…it strips the head from the plant. These headers are very popular in this part of Kansas because the straw that’s left will help catch any snow that may happen to fall. And in this “desert”, any moisture received is precious. He has us cut the wheat under the irrigation pivots because it reduces the amount of straw. Typically, irrigated wheat will grow much better than dry land – due to the amount of water that can be applied to the wheat as it’s growing. Too much straw affects planting next year’s crop.
the transition from “real” to “harvest”
I denied it as long as I could.
I knew I would have to step out of the “real” world and enter the “harvest” world eventually. That day seemed like maybe it just wasn’t going to happen. With the drought and late season freezes, the Z Crew wasn’t in any hurry to get anywhere. The farmers that we had lined acres up with in TX and OK had zeroed them out. And why would we load up and take off hoping to find something this year? I’m usually the one to encourage doing something new and different but even I didn’t feel like it was something we should do. So, I didn’t put up a fight when Jim said we’d just wait for SW Kansas and hope for acres there.
The combine left last week. Jim and Taylor got it to its destination, unloaded it and turned right around and came back. They were home the day after they left. Taylor said the wheat was green but Jim said, “we’ll be leaving with the rest of the stuff on Tuesday morning”. There it was. The date of departure. Departure from the “real” world. If you’re not a “wheatie”, I don’t think you can truly understand what it’s like to go through your house and start gathering EVERYTHING you might need for the 100+ days of being away from home. It’s overwhelming (to say the least)! So, I kept denying until Sunday afternoon rolled around. After the B-17 plane ride, I had to just tell myself I MUST get busy. Jim was being pretty insistent that Tuesday morning was the day. So, I began. I began with the basement and worked my way upstairs – to the kitchen, bathroom and finally my personal belongings. Continue reading
june 3, 1980 grand island tornadoes
I find it rather ironic that we’re being told of the seriousness of today’s weather. Ironic because it was 34 years ago today – on a Tuesday – that changed my Grandparent’s lives forever.
I remember Grandma talking about this home when it was brand new. I don’t know what year it was built but it was outside of the Grand Island city limits. The house still stands at 2204 South Locust in Grand Island, NE. But on the night of June 3, 1980, all future memories in that house came to a complete halt.
campfires, s’mores and more
Our weekend wasn’t spent on the road or in a wheat field. Instead, it was spent doing things most people who don’t leave home or their family probably do and take for granted. This doesn’t mean, though, that thoughts of being on the road or in a wheat field weren’t on my mind. The images of loaded combines which I see via Facebook make me wish Frank and I were part of that journey. But we’re not and I need to just remain faithful that that’s not where we’re supposed to be right now. Instead…this is where we are meant to be.
On Thursday evening, I received a text from Dan (Misener Family Harvesters), “So are you busy tomorrow”? “Just workin…you headed this way”?, was my reply. The Misener’s had been in South Dakota for a funeral. As you may or may not know, the farmers we “wheaties” cut for generally become more than just a customer. And, this is proof of that statement. The Misener’s have cut for Dave and his dad for quite some time. Unfortunately, Dave’s dad passed away which meant a road trip. OF COURSE they would go to South Dakota from Oklahoma for a funeral. That’s what we “wheaties” do. In December 1996, we gathered the kids and headed to a funeral in Jordan, Montana. It was the coldest funeral we’ve ever attended. There was no way we were going to miss it and I’m certain that’s exactly how the Misener’s felt. The way I see it, we’ve got family scattered from Texas to Montana!
there’s always next year
I was going back through some letters I wrote as president of the U.S. Custom Harvesters recently and came upon one that could have been written today. It was written in the Spring of 2011. Why is this worth mentioning? It was about the impending disaster the custom harvesting industry was being faced with. The letter was written to the major combine and forage manufacturers asking for an extended grace period when it came time for equipment payments. I don’t remember if there was anything accomplished with that letter but it was a “heads up” to them anyway. By the time the harvest season was over, it appeared that most custom harvesters were able to hold on, sigh a heavy sigh and mutter, “there’s always next year”.
That was three summers ago.
you’re STILL here?
Yep…still here.
That’s the question that’s asked a lot by everyone we come in contact with who knows we shouldn’t still be here. Here it comes…next question…”when are you leaving?” I just shrug my shoulders, squint my eyes and say, “I don’t know.”
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