Work Hard, Train Harder August 29, 2010

Some people do training for their 8-5 jobs– maybe there’s new software to learn or a new position that affects the responsibilities of others.  The new information is taught and put into practice.

When it comes to fire department training, the list of possible scenarios to train on is endless.  Instead of one element evolving or being added, we are constantly trying to prepare for any type of call and continuously adding new, state-of-the-art equipment that needs to be learned.  We don’t just respond to fires and car accidents.  People call us when their carbon monoxide detector goes off, a plane crashes in their yard, a train turns over off the tracks, or a tractor rolls over.  The list could go on and on.  There’s no way to feel 100% confident through training to prepare for everything but we do train on a wide range of situations and are aware of all the resources we can call for incidents that are too large or involved for our lone department to handle.

And if we’re going to be expected to work hard on a call, we’ve got to train harder.

HPFD has training on something different every month.  Last week we trained on using foam as a fire suppressant.  Water is an almost idiot-proof way to extinguish flames, but foam actually does a better job at putting out fire and keeping it out.  But while water is idiot-proof, foam requires a list of variables to be at particular settings and create perfect harmony, which then creates foam.  And there’s some math involved… which is when I go into “nod-and-smile” mode.

We had a really cute instructor.  And I love his school spirit.

But he talked about math.  Yick.

Here our pumper is pumping water from a port-a-tank (a collapsible pool) through the hoselines being used to create foam.  We rely on port-a-tanks a lot because the countryside HPFD covers isn’t supplied with those handy things that stick out of the ground to provide water… oh yeah, fire hydrants!

To use foam, there needs to be people running the truck…

… people in charge of the concentrated foam…

… and people on the hoseline applying foam to flames.

While we had brush on fire, we decided to let some guys run the brush truck that might not have had the opportunity.  Our brush trucks are pickup-sized trucks with hundreds of gallons of water, a pump, and hoselines so they’re perfect for getting just about anywhere that a brush fire might pop up.  They’re also designed with nozzles on the bumper, which allows us to drive alongside a fire while extinguishing it.  The bumper nozzles are a big hit with kids watching us come through a parade (but don’t get their parents wet!).

That’s a full moon on the lefthand side.  Key the suspenseful music!  To the right is the light tower on our rescue truck that can pretty much light-up a football field.  It’s handy in the dark, and guess what– sometimes calls happen at night when it’s dark.

On to a new day and new training!  As a way to offer everyone on our department specialized agricultural training and invite guys from local departments to take advantage of it also, the Illinois Fire Service Institute (based in Champaign, aka God’s Country) came down to teach an 8-hour course on Agricultural Rescue.  Since we live in an area where combines and grain bins and “the back 40” are common, this training was very pertinent to training for unusual types of calls that we very well might encounter.

The course was designed to have classroom time with a slideshow presentation then move onto hands-on practicals.  It’s scary to prepare for farming accidents because it’s probably a really bad situation coupled with the fact that it’s probably going to involve someone who’s known very well throughout the whole fire department and the community.  But we’ve got to be prepared for anything and everything.

The hands-on portion took place at my parents’ farm.  Dad got to drag out all of his toys to use as examples for lots of people in the class who didn’t know what a chopper was, nonetheless know what the dangerous parts to one might be.  We had a silage wagon, chopper, blower, disk, combine, CAT, and auger to check out.

We did a walk-around of the farm to discuss the dangers of farm “stuff” that couldn’t be lined up in the field– such as the manure pit and silos.

The entire class split into 3 groups and rotated through stations.  Here, we had a scenario of a tractor-rollover with a person (in this case, a dummy) trapped underneath it.  An IFSI instructor talked us through different options of safely removing the tractor from the patient without causing the patient more harm.

At the next station, another IFSI instructor talked about injuries involving augers.  In the blink of an eye, an auger can grab an article of clothing or a hand and use its power to start pulling the person into it.  Unfortunately these types of accidents are far too common; sometimes people are lucky enough to just lose a finger or two, but sometimes the whole hand becomes hamburger and there’s not too much that can be done.

Dad took each group around to talk about each piece of equipment he had lined up.  It’s an advantage to have some knowledge of a piece of equipment and how it works before you have to figure out how to help a patient who might be stuck in it.

Good thing combines are so straight-forward.  Psssssshaw.

Which one of these is not like the others?

(A sneaky shot from under the corn head)

Shockingly, Max had a blast with all these strangers.  He provided water-break entertainment in a way only Max can.

Before the end of training, we did 2 more evolutions.  Here we used the Jaws of Life to “rescue” a patient who has become trapped in the corn head of a combine.  This is an example of an incident we hear of way too often in this area.

Finally we practiced a couple different ways to remove an unconscious patient from the cab of a combine.  Todd did a great job playing “unconscious” and everyone else did a great job of not dropping him. 

Which would’ve been kinda funny.

We train in the dark for the calls in the middle of the night.

We train in the hot sunshine for the calls in the heat of summer.

We train with special equipment for the calls we need to be able to use it seamlessly.

We train for the calls no one hopes to encounter.

We train hard so the calls seem easy.

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun August 26, 2010

Wine.

Friends.

Family.

Food.

A sash & tiara. 

(Alright, so I didn’t have the balls for the tiara.)

Good times!

Some of my favorite people in the world joined me on Saturday for my Bachelorette Party, starting at Hidden Lake Winery in Aviston.  We tasted some wine, made a couple purchases, headed outside… and began sweating to death.  So we sought the comfortable A/C and let the good times roll.  And bought more wine.

My two sisters who were there and I all wished we’d brought a picture of my oldest sister who couldn’t quite swing the 12 hour drive from NC to make it for the day.  But we were thinking of her! 

My future sisters-in-law make me feel blonde and pasty.

Many of my bridesmaids-to-be were there, minus my older sister and my college friend, Heather.  Just like Jenny couldn’t quite swing a trip from NC, Heather had the same issues of making it for a day from Montana.  I obviously would’ve been glad to have them there, but understand that it couldn’t happen.  I can’t wait to see them for the wedding!

Kiersten and I were on the same wavelength when we got dressed that day!  Before I left the house, Todd made it clear he would’ve been embarassed to be with me if I was wearing my white Argentina pants.  But since I wasn’t going anywhere with him, he approved.  Hey, they’re freaking fun and not everybody has SoHo pants from Mar del Plata!

Since Debbie was spending the day with her camera in my direction, I had to get her back.  Payback feels good!

And where there’s a party, there’s Rijeana.  Cast and all!  I don’t remember how many bottles she had in her purse when we left…

I feel like someone’s looking at me!

The party was exactly what I’d hoped it be– relaxing and fun, filled with laughter that spread through the entire building and a “This is your 5 minute warning!” yelled above the chaos that is the chatter of 13 women.  From there, we stuffed ourselves with the incredible food that defines Popeye’s Chophouse and continued enjoying each other’s company.

I wonder why guys never think to take pictures at their Bachelor Parties?  🙂

Destination: State Fair August 24, 2010

Once upon a time, Springfield was a far, far-away city full of animals in barns, people selling interesting junk, freebies, and any food item offered both fried and on a stick.

Destination: Illinois State Fair.

The whole family would pile in the minivan at the crack of dawn and head north for a day of fun at the fair.  Back then at least one of us girls (if not all of us) had a 4-H project we were expected to display at the Illinois State Fair, and the rest of the day was spent people-watching (we were sheltered from the crazies back then) and seeing how much free crap we could stuff in our plastic bags that were handed out in the Geriatric Building.

Back then, I also thought Springfield was an 8 hour trip requiring bathroom breaks and on-the-road snacks.  I never forgot my pillow and DiscMan.

During college, the Illinois State Fair was my place of residence for roughly 10 days during August.  As part of the Illini Dairy Club, I’d help take care of the showstring, run the Milk-A-Cow Booth, and sleep in the barns.  The fairgrounds went from being a nearly-imagined place from my youth to a place where I knew the location of every clean bathroom and which stand had the best breakfast.

Now adays, I’m back to making an annual Illinois State Fair trip with the Young Farmer group, a committee within the Madison County Farm Bureau.  We comprise a couple 4-man teams to compete in the Agri-Quiz Bowl and then run a pedal tractor pull competition for kids.  In between, I get the chance to stuff plastic bags full of free stuff and eat some junk.

This year, we were a question or two away from making it into the final round.  Dagnabbit.

Here’s the whole group posing with some of our pedal tractors.  Yes yes yes, I’m on a John Deere.  Shut up about it already!  It didn’t contaminate my blood!

Hands off ladies, he’s mine!  Poor guy volunteered to round out the quiz bowl team and help out at the pedal pull, then spent the 2 days prior in the sun working on our roof.  If I’d given him the option to back out, he might have… but I won him over with the promise of a nice meal at Hooters before springing Springfield.

The pedal pull is quite the event.  This pavilion was empty when we came in to start setting up, and people just flock to us.  And these people are crazy over supporting their kids’ pedal-pull careers.  Since the rule is anyone can pull under 80 pounds, there’s parents who won’t let their kids eat lunch on the day of the pull just to keep them at that precious 79 pound range– big enough to be the biggest in the class, not so big that we have to turn them down.  And that’s just one example of the craziness.  But we have fun, and we still haven’t followed through on the idea to keep parents under control with electric fencing.

It’s definitely been discussed.  Multiple times.

A trip to the Illinois State Fair wouldn’t be complete without taking the time to respect the butter cow.  Pounds and pounds of butter sculpted into a masterpiece– a state fair tradition.

Let’s backtrack to the childhood years, when we would beg and plead our parents to let us ride the Sky Tram.  It didn’t happen every year, but every now and then our desperate prayers would be answered.  And then I’d spend the next 10 minutes on the ride with my eyes squeezed shut, frantic to not lose a flip-flop, and measuring every inch of sway the car made.  Fast foward to today: there ain’t no way I’m paying that much money for a stupid, slow-paced ride that will still scare me to death.  But to my parents, thanks for the memories!

While Todd actually worked for an Army t-shirt (and they tried to talk him into being added to the Army mailing list), we came home with a decent amount of other grub.  A jar opener, bag clip, bandaid holder, honey candy for Jenny, and the precious test results that my cholesterol is still sky-high and Todd’s body fat is 8%.

Well, it was before a day of fair food, ice cream, and Hooters!

My Vs. His To-Do Lists August 23, 2010

Somewhere along the way of co-habitation, Todd & I accidentally sorted out the To-Do lists that go with living away from a generous parent or 3-star hotel.  It kinda started with me taking care of the things that Todd hates to do, and Todd taking care of the things I hate to do.

Jess’ To-Do

1. Laundry     (Oddly, I enjoy laundry.  I like the satisfaction of folding and putting-away.)

2. Ironing     (Loathe ironing.  But we both wear uniforms that require it, and Todd hates it more than I do.)

3. Dishes     (Don’t hate dishes, but definitely don’t love them either.)

4. Vacuuming/Dusting/General Cleaning Crap

Todd’s To-Do

1. Oil Changes     (He’s been getting off too easy here, since we received 4 free ones with our car.  But definitely something I don’t want to do.)

2. Fix things     (I break it, he fixes it.  Nice arrangement.)

3. Take out trash     (Mostly because I’m forgetful.)

4. Random general maintenance/clean-up/organize when it comes to yard, garage, and exterior home

So when the comment “You need a new roof” starting popping up at an alarming rate from random people, this was clearly Todd’s department.  Since his bro-in-law has done many-a-roof, Todd more or less appointed the bro-in-law as Supervisor with Todd being next in-line.  My appointment would be making lunch/dinner/snack for our lovely volunteers and attempting to keep an icy cooler of bottled water.

After a year or so of “New Roof” being listed on a genuine To-Do list (Todd’s, of course), materials were chosen… supplies were purchased… a date was set… friends were begged.  And while I assume they could’ve picked a hotter day, the day they tore-off and they day they re-shingled were hot.

We have pretty great friends.  Friends who someday will require repayment in the form of gallons of sweat and bunches of sore muscles.  Repayment which will, of course, be Todd’s department.

Mary said it was obvious which guys were the marrieds versus unmarrieds, since the unmarrieds lost their shirts right off the bat.  I’m not sure what Joe’s giving me the middle finger for… taking his picture?  spending the day in the comfortable A/C?  dragging him into this mess of Can’t-Miss-It fun?

From what I gathered, a tear-off can be a variation of trouble.  Either it goes pretty easily because you only have one layer of shingles to get rid of, or it sucks a$$ because you have 3.  Boy, Todd better start figuring out how to repay these poor suckers….

At 9am, Todd came into the kitchen were his sister & I were organizing lunch and dinner and he requested French Toast for all his worker bees.  While this does fall more onto my To-Do list, what’s a girl to do with 5 people to feed, 1/3 loaf of maybe-moldy bread, and 4 eggs? 

Drive a mile to the parents’ house and steal.

Then make scrambled eggs instead ’cause they’ll be a helluva lot faster.

For lunch, Kala & I made brats, hot dogs, mac’n’cheese, peaches, and pan cookies.  For dinner we had lasagna, Pasta House salad, and garlic bread.  And those snots barely ate anything!

I could blame it on my cooking, but I”ll blame it on the too-hot weather instead.

I’m not completely sure at what point they reached by the end of the work-day, but I know the old shingles were all torn off, a couple leaky places patched (yikes!), and paper laid.  But I was completely sure none of these volunteer idiots would wander back our direction the next day.

Day 2 started off shaky with just Todd & his supervisor on the roof.  I chopped a few loads of corn silage with Dad, and then we headed that way… Dad to help on the roof, and me to start clean-up.

Apparently that’s on my To-do.

And what a mess it was.  But my glutes and hamstrings felt my efforts the next day, and our yard didn’t look quite so awful once I cleared the shingle confetti.  So I reckon it was worth it.  Plus I probably saved the lives of a couple shingle-squashed flowers.  Durn boys didn’t think to aim away from the flora.

Which is easy to say from the one who spent the day on the ground.

Todd’s pretty lucky… even though it was a Monday, his supervisor was there for a full-day’s work, my dad showed up, and then his friend Jeff called and wanted to come help because he was “bored.”  So he got put to work too!  Then, some suckers from the day before got off work and came back to help again.  Not to mention a couple of newbies who must have felt pity down in their hearts and showed up with some masculine desire to climb ladders and use power tools, and of course, our neighbor!

Thank goodness for testosterone.

Our neighbor even brought over his own beer before he climbed on the roof.  Leaf blower in one hand, beer in the other… efficiency.

I was glad for other spectators to join me on the ground.  I wish I’d caught a picture of Braxdon with his boots, tool belt, and everything else he knew he’d need for an evening of hard work!

Towards the end of the project, we had 2 trucks full of shingles, a borrowed skid-steer sitting in the yard, a dozen guys who probably shed a 5 pounds in the heat, and a pretty amazing roof.

Alright alright, so I was just told it was “amazing”.  It is “amazing”, and “architectural”, and should last long after we move on to something bigger and better.

On second thought, would a bigger house mean a longer To-Do list????

Thanks to: Todd, Jason (Supervisor), Eric, Joe, Bange, Dad, Jeff, Zack, Cory, and Phil… and Kala and Mary for keeping me company on the ground!

I’ll Take That With A Side Of Corn Silage, Please August 14, 2010

Once upon a time, when the time came to chop corn silage, I clearly remember wearing a long-sleeved t-shirt in the mornings.  But some of our corn got planted early this year, which means it’s ready to be chopped sooner, which means we’re in the dead H.E.A.T of August. 

Most of the general population realizes that cattle eat grain and hay.  Nice work, people!  But there’s also quite a few cattle that eat corn silage as their main entrée.  Not to give you a miniature crop science class, but to serve corn silage to your cattle, the entire stalk of corn is chopped up into pieces less than an inch big, all the pieces are stuffed into a silo to ferment, and then it is fed over the span of the next year.  Whereas corn is harvested when it is very dry (13% moisture, give or take), corn silage is made when the stalk is still somewhat green (60% moisture, give or take).  If you want to talk about special varieties of corn for silage or the fermentation process, you’re probably a big hit with your friends.  But we can talk.

Big blue tractor, chopper, silage wagon.  In reverse order.  Got it?

I think I’m pretty good at driving and maneuvering farm equipment, but hook the chopper up to the tractor and then hook the silage wagon up to that, and I don’t do too hot in reverse.  Forward– no problem.  Reverse– plenty of problems.

Don’t judge ’til you’ve tried it yourself!

The bummer about the chopper is that it chops 2 rows of corn at a time.  Two tiny rows at about 2 miles per hour.  If driving straight wasn’t so important, it could definitely be nap time.

Those two tiny rows fills up a silage wagon pretty quick though.  While I’m filling one wagon, Dad’s dumping one into the silo.  By the time he’s done, I’m ready for his empty one and he’s ready for my full one.  Unless I break down.  But why dwell on the negative?  Those pins are meant to be sheared.

The chopper is a wee dangerous when it’s running.  And so is this silage wagon.  They both have moving parts that move very, very quickly and can chew up corn in a millisecond… corn or arms or legs.  It’s all the same.

Looks delicious, doesn’t it?  If it’s done right, every kernel of corn will be split or at least have a nick in it, which allows the cattle to digest every nutrient.  Whoops, I said no crop science.

Dad picks up a full wagon from the field and pulls it up to the silo.

The wagon is emptied into a blower, which shoots the silage full-speed up to the top of the silo and then dumps in.

And that’s a tall silo.  I’m glad that “climb the silo” isn’t in my job description.

For the next year, we’ll have corn silage to feed to our older group of heifers twice every day.  It shoots back out of the silo and onto a belt, which drops it along the bunk for the hungry girls.

And gee, who is that– sneaking through the corn alongside me?  I’ll give you a hint… he’s black and smelly.

He must enjoy the 100+ degree heat since he made circle after circle through the field with me.  I think he was trying to help by carrying an ear of corn, but he’s lucky he didn’t get chopped into the corn silage.

With Max leading the way, at least I knew which way to go.  Or something like that.

2 rows by 2 rows by 2 rows…

… until only 2 were left!  In this field anyway.

Come on over and I’ll show you what each knob and lever does.  And for the ones that I have no clue about, we can make something up together.

And when we’re done, take this silly dog home with you and make him find somewhere cool to play with his ears of corn.  Pardon the blurry picture… he’s fast.

Well, he’s fast until he collapses from heat stress in the shade of the silo.

Pay Attention, People! August 11, 2010

Ring Ring Ring

Me, at work, at 7:30 Monday morning:  Hello?

Todd:  Turn on channel 2.  I’m busy, gotta go!

TV turned on, see HPFD guys at a semi wreck/fire and Dad’s truck parked in the interstate median.

Me, to myself:  Holy crap!

There’s bad karma snaking along St. Louis interstates recently… bad karma in the form of awful accidents, usually involving construction zones and big tractor-trailers.  And usually stemming from what we all know– people driving down the road don’t pay attention!

While I was at work, I learned from channel 2 that this occurred about a mile off the Pierron exit ramp on Interstate 70 and that there was significant fire involved.  I figured out that Todd didn’t get off work at Highland EMS at 7am like he was scheduled.  Beyond that, I was clueless.

After what felt like an hour, the timeclock at work read 8:00 and I was outta there.  I called my dad, feeling pretty certain he wouldn’t answer (I also knew from channel 2 that he was a tad busy at the time)… but he did answer!  I let him know I was leaving Carlyle and asked if there was anything I could do, to which he replied that they could use more bottled water and extra foam from the firehouse.  Oh, did you know it was hot on Monday?

I made a quick trip to the Super Valu in Carlyle for 2 cases of water and a bag of ice.  Confident that state troopers were probably tied up in whatever was going on with the accident, I made pretty good time heading towards home and pulled the car right into an empty bay at the firehouse– rock star parking.  Within about 5 minutes I had the only truck left in the firehouse (yay for having a truck with lights!  I’m sure I would’ve had to answer some questions pulling onto a shut-down interstate in my Pontiac) loaded with a cooler of water and 5 jugs of foam.  I was pretty excited that I didn’t miss out on everything because of work.

It didn’t take long to unload about 24 bottles of the water to all the guys who’d been on-scene for almost 2 hours, in full bunker gear, and fighting a hot fire.  And those who turned down my initial offer at an ice-cold bottle changed their mind within another half hour, as did all the state guys who were out there sweating their butts off too.

While talking with everyone on-scene, I finally got the whole story.  Our fire department, along with Highland EMS (Todd), got called out before 7am to a single-vehicle tractor-trailer accident.  The driver may have had a medical problem that caused him to wreck.  Traffic was slowing for the accident scene.  On the interstate particularly, it seems like people do one of 2 things: speed up and hope to get around it (don’t want to be late for work!) or slow down to gawk and take a cell phone pic.  The second accident occurred just after a handful of our HPFD guys passed the exact spot– a semi didn’t notice traffic slowed in front of him and plowed on through, causing a wreck involving 3 semi trucks and a wee-little pickup truck.  Thanks be to God that none of our guys ended up being involved.

This is the wee-little truck.  When I saw this truck from the helicopters covering the wreck before I got off work, I thought “that guy’s dead.”  Instead, this guy is a lucky feller– he received only minor injuries.  I was told that as soon as HPFD guys used some extrication tools to help get him out, he RAN.  Can’t blame him; he could probably feel the heat from the fire behind him!

Anyway, we had guys heading to the initial wreck and then this happened.  There were apparently a couple decent sized explosions, a mushroom cloud of smoke, and an anonymous Chief who keyed up his radio and said “Shit’s blowing up!”  Suddenly the initial wreck was small peas compared to this pile-up.  The ambulance transported the driver from the initial wreck, we had enough guys to help EMS there, and then we used everyone and a handful of ambulances to deal with the burning mess.

By the time I got there, the fire was out, the ambulances all transported, and a third accident involving a motorcycle slamming into the backend of a semi had occurred.  Once again, caused from too much looking and not enough driving.

While we played the waiting game with clean-up and managing some smoldering hot spots, we watched the traffic cruising the eastbound lanes.  And it was horrifying!  Like I said, some people are moving fast and some people are trying to take a picture.  Trust me– I know the feeling of “I want to see” and “Wow that’s bad”.  But I also know how dangerous it can be.  I saw people with their heads out their window looking backwards at the wreck, while the rest of traffic is travelling highway speeds.  We’re lucky we didn’t end up with ten times as many accidents between the fast people and the slow people.  Please don’t fly by us at 80 mph, but please don’t jeopardize yourself at 20 mph either.

Unfortunately there were 2 deaths, a driver and passenger in the “Butternut Bread” semi whose cab was engulfed in flames after impact.  Thankfully the rest of the people involved were all very lucky.  It was a stinkin’ hot day, but we managed it the best we could with shade and bottles of water (the 48 bottles I brought were gone by 10am… more were emptied before I got there, and a good dent was put into the water and Powerade that were brought after 10am).  At 11:20 we were cleared from the scene and returned to the firehouse, where we cleaned-up equipment and sat down to a lovely lunch.  Thanks to Mary & Joe Jackson who grilled burgers for everyone, Grandma who always has a cake ready, and Deb Johnson who came with lots more fixin’s.  HPFD got called out again around 3pm to wash down the interstate once the wreck had been completely towed away, and then the interstate was finally reopened.

Here’s what we learned:

1. People are dangerous on an interstate.
2. A call isn’t always what you first respond to.
3. Keep lots of bottled water on the trucks… and lots of extra at the station.
4. Be nice to those who will make you lunch when you’re hot, tired, and hungry!
5. If the Chief swears on the radio, we’re probably going to need everybody’s help.

Headline: Bull Charged With Delinquent Behavior August 9, 2010

Rural Highland:

A judge has ruled that a bull, 30 years old in cattle years, be sentenced to solitary confinement after busting through gates to gain access to a group of heifers.  The sentence takes into consideration the fact that the heifers Mr. Bull joined were not of age for his company, being only 10 years old in cattle years.  There is strong suspicion that at least one of the young heifers may have been inseminated by Mr. Bull which could carry further charges in the future.  Mr. Bull is being held against his will in solitary confinement until complete formal charges have been made.

Mr. Bull

What You Need To Make Hay August 8, 2010

No, I didn’t get lost.  My camera cord did… but I found it after 3 days of looking in all the wrong places and I’ve had pictures to share since last Tuesday!  Tuesday and Wednesday (my 48 hours off work last week) were meant to be hay-baling days; Dad cut the hay a couple days before and spent Tuesday morning raking it.  That afternoon, we set out to bale it.  And in true farm-fashion, just because you have a plan and the weather’s finally perfect (the hay could’ve been cut 2 weeks sooner, but the weather wouldn’t cooperate) doesn’t mean things will go according to your plan.

A baler (the implement pulled behind the tractor to take in the “mown” hay and spit out beautiful bales tied with two strings) requires many different parts to all work together in perfect harmony.  As soon as one part gets out of sync, pushed a little one way or the other, or has a bad day, the entire process goes down the drain.  Let’s just say that’s what happened on Tuesday.  The baler broke, the baler paramedic arrived on-scene and couldn’t make it all better, the part didn’t come on Wednesday, the rain came Wednesday night (bad news for hay on the ground), the part didn’t come Thursday, Dad’s flight to NC left without him Friday morning, the part didn’t come Friday, and then **angels rejoice** the part came in on Saturday.  We baled our little hearts out yesterday and had one field left for today, which of course means I’m at work and no help.  Luckily my lovely fiance took my spot and apparently ran the baler so Dad could stay put on the bale wagon and not get stuck doing both jobs all by himself.  Thanks Todd!

So while we’re rejoicing, it still sucks that Dad couldn’t make the trip with Mom to NC to see my sister’s family and help John celebrate his 2nd birthday.  Sorry Seester 😦

Now that you know the really exciting, edge-of-your-seat story, here’s a list of what you need to make hay.

1.  A hot, dry day.  Preferably with a nice breeze.

(If you don’t have a thermometer handy, you can estimate temperature based on the length of tongue hanging out of Max’s chomper.)

2.  Supervisors.  I have 3: my dad, Max, and my grandpa.  Here, 2 of my supervisors are following behind in the Ranger.  My 3rd supervisor is usually out-of-sight, but I know he’s watching.  During fall/winter/spring he’s a little more obvious in his orange cardigan.

(The Supervisors are in charge of fixing the things I can’t… which are most things.  Max doesn’t do much fixing, but I guess he’s there for moral support.  Obviously the only shade in a field is under the baler; I’ve learned not to leave the tractor door open when I get out because Max is hard to kick out of the a/c once he’s in!)

3.  Two necessary things (to me) when making hay: phone and iPod.  They make spending hours alone in the tractor quite pleasant.  Yesterday I did a shuffle of Lila McCann; ahhhh, the ’90s!

4.  A wide-brimmed hat.  If you’re the one on a cabless tractor, that is.  SUCKER!  (Yes, I’m lucky)

4.  A mixture of a little brain and a little common sense, to recognize when things aren’t working right.  The hay is supposed to go in looking like this, not coming out looking like this.  Luckily, the Supervisor wasn’t far behind this time.  Earlier this happened near the highway and the Supervisor was all the way at home; apparently I’m not supposed to breakdown near the highway where everyone driving by can see.  I’m supposed to plan my break-downs further off the beaten path.  I’m working on this.

5.  An ambulance, in the form of a pick-up truck full of tools.

6.  A paramedic, in the form of a mechanic who can use tools on the “ambulance” and make broken things all better again.  Although as a true paramedic, watching him squat on the baler while Dad drove along made me very nervous.

(Unfortunately, there are times when paramedics can’t make things all better.  It was around this point that I heard “Well I’ve never seen this before!” and what was supposed to be a simple problem was recognized to be a big problem.)

7.  And other than the baler, obviously everyone needs a big blue tractor.  Right, John?

8.  Finally, to make hay you need to be able to amuse yourself.

Because even with hay on the ground, the sun will set… the storms will still pop up… parts will still break.

Plans might be forced to change with trips cancelled, bridal showers left early, birthday parties unattended, the first innings of baseball games missed.  So amuse yourself, roll with the punches, vent and then let it go, and recognize that farm work has to be done regardless of the schedule marked on the calendar.  Or go insane and be bitter.  But amusement is usually easier to live with than bitterness.

The time will come when all the farmwork is caught up and Dad will have his free ticket to NC waiting for him!

And even though I missed some innings of baseball, I still got to hang out with Mr. Jim Beam.

Cute 1-year-olds August 2, 2010

Who doesn’t love a cute toddler?

Look who’s walking!

Gus is so proud of himself!  As he should be!

And Princess Emma got fitted with a practice flower girl dress.  Have no fears… the actual one won’t be seafoam green.  I know she’ll be walking by then too!

 

That’s all I’ve got 🙂