Taking a Break

Fall is my favorite time of year.  I love the color changes in the trees, the brisk morning walks, the gorgeous days and cool evenings.  Unfortunately, the time has come for me to take a small break from writing this blog.  I have been diagnosed with Breast Cancer and need to focus my energy on recovery.  You may joint me as I take this new journey on my blog:  www.laughwithkathy.com  I hope to write occasional posts on this blog as I am able.

2012 Drought - Hold on Little Buddy!

Most of the Midwest is experiencing severe to exceptional drought conditions this year, and we are no exception. With only 2 inches of rain since April, crops are failing, rivers are low, and my ponds are drying up. It has been distressing to watch the waterline recede and the hawks circling the ponds. What a year to have purchased fish to stock the ponds. Unless we get a lot of rainfall soon, my fish are going to have to learn how to walk. We have been going out a couple of times a week to toss floating catfish food out to them. The water starts churning as soon as they hear the Kubota drive up.

As saddened as I am to see the ponds dry up, one of my neighbors came up with a brilliant solution to my fish problem. He offered to come and catch what he can and take them to his pond until our ponds refill in the spring. I must say, I sort of feel like a parent sending their kids to summer camp. You know they will have fun and be well taken care of, but you are going to miss them. But I do plan to send them care packages of floating catfish food.

We did have a brief discussion on whether I would get my fish back. Tagging them seemed a bit excessive. Do you think my neighbor has a catfish fry in his future?

Which Way is Up?

Do you ever have one of those days where you don't know which way is up?  It looks like Dolly dog is having one of those days.  Here she sits on her pillow with her feet on the bed.

You Get What You Asked For

We have a neighbor who occasionally does work for us.  This week we had him spreading some landscaping rock around our workshop.  As I was leaving, I mentioned that we had some bigger rocks lying around and to just stack them up near the faucet.  This is what I got.  It makes me laugh.



Dolly seems confused by the new addition.



The Longest Day

My husband greeted me at 6:00 a.m. with the news that today was the longest day in the year. He was referring to the summer solstice, but who knew he was prophetic?

A neighbor has contracted out some work in the forest that surrounds our house. We had 150 mph straight line winds last summer that blew down hundreds of trees in his 90 acre forest, and he would like to open up a path for hunting vehicles. He has worked on clearing the path for a year, and has decided to pull out the heavy equipment to finish the job. We granted access along the field adjacent to our property to make it easier to get to. I laughed when I looked out the window the other morning and saw this backhoe parked just outside of my front yard. That doesn't happen in town!

Clearing seemed to go well for several days but it became apparent this morning that things weren't going well. At 7:00 a.m., a contractor showed up and parked his pick up, climbed into the backhoe and drove into the forest. At 7:30, a second pickup arrived and shortly thereafter, the backhoe came out of the woods and parked. I know the signs of when men break something. It starts with a huddle, followed by removing the ball cap and scratching of heads. Someone points, and someone has to climb under the broken object. 8:00 a.m., a third pick up arrives with a generator on a trailer. Yep, it's broken. At 11:00 a.m., the instruction manual comes out. Now we are having fun! I just barely resist taking their photo. Honestly, I wanted to but couldn't figure out how to do it without getting caught.

12:30 the boss arrives. You can always tell when the boss arrives. Arms wave, people shake their heads, someone waves the owner's manual . . . this is not looking good. I'm thinking about Youtube and whether I can get this on video. Men glance this way, I duck.

6:30 p.m. dinner arrives. Who knew you could get take out in the middle of a field? Tailgates appear to make wonderful picnic tables. At 8:00 p.m., they give up. I think someone is ordering parts. While I had an entertaining day checking on their progress, I think it is safe to say that today was truly the longest day of the year for these workers.

Mouse in the House (and other Dr. Seuss rhymes!)

We have a mouse in the house. I don't like it. I don't even like the thought of it. I was preparing dinner the other night and expecting Gene to be home at any moment when I noticed Dolly staring into the bathroom. I thought that was unusual since she has never shown any interest in the bathroom in the past. As I drew closer, I hear a faint sound. Dolly tilted her head and leaned closer. I leaned closer. We are both now looking behind the toilet, when I see a little paw stick it's arm out between the waterline that feeds the toilet and the little chrome ring that covers the hole. "Eeeek!!"

My guard dog is hot on my heels as I head for the opposite end of the house. Some protection she is! As I stand in my bedroom debating my options, I give her the evil eye. Her tail wags. I tiptoe back to the bathroom, Dolly on my heels, and sure enough, scratch, scratch, scratch. I can hear it. Oh man. I really don't want to have to deal with this. Maybe it can wait until Gene gets home. I close the door. (I know . . . but I had to do something!)

I just can't get that scratching sound and the vision of that little paw out of my head. Something must be done. So I bang on the water pipe, go get the bag of mouse poison and stuff it in the hole. Then I stick a toothpick in tight to keep the mouse from pushing the chrome ring off. Now I hear Gene driving in. Sure.

The Mouse in the House! (heavily plagiarized from Dr. Seuss)

The sun did not shine. It was too dark to play. So we sat in the house all that long, long, Tuesday.

I sat there with Dolly, we sat there we two. And I said, “How I wish we had something to do!”

And then something went BUMP! How that bump made us jump! We looked! And we saw him! The mouse in the house!

Gene was out of the house for the day. But I said, “No! No! Make that mouse go away! Tell that mouse in the house we do NOT want to play. He should not be here. He should not be about. He should not be here when Gene is out!”

“Now! Now! Have no fear. Have no fear!” said the mouse. “My tricks are not bad,” Said the mouse in the house.

Die mouse, die. (I like my ending better than the Seuss version)

Dealing with Raccoons

We have a raccoon problem. Mind you, I know that we live in the country and that raccoons were here first, but I draw the line at them camping out on my front porch. The other day, Dolly refused to come in the house and kept playing by the garage. My friend and I walked around the corner and I crawled into the bushes to see what she was chasing and thought she had cornered a cat. As I reached in to rescue the cat, I saw the rings on its tail and stumbled back, dragging Dolly with me. My friend said, "Let me do it. I'm covered for rabies for the next five years!" (She had an unfortunate altercation with a feral cat last summer and had to go through the series of Rabies shots.) We both sat on our heels and laughed.

After the vet gave me strong warnings not to let Dolly come into contact with either the animal or it's droppings because she could develop Baylisascaris or "raccoon disease" (which can be fatal), I decided that something needed to be done. I talked to some friends and neighbors seeking advice on how to deal with the problem, and most agreed that a live trap was the best solution. Let me just say that this is one of those things that is best thought out in advance. I, on the other hand, did not give it enough thought. Before I go on, let me point out that once you start such a project, you should know how you plan to end it.

A friend loaned us a trap and showed me how to bait it. He tied a 12' rope onto the end of it and asked if I knew what the rope is for. Without blinking an eye, I responded, "So you don't have to go into the pond to get the cage after you give the raccoon a swimming lesson?" He laughed and responded, "Studies show they can't actually hold their breath all that long." He tells me the rope is in case I catch a skunk. Then he proceeds to tell me what to do if I do catch a skunk. I have visions of Gene and I in hazmat suits, long rubber gloves, and a clothes pin on our noses as we carry a blanket out to cover the cage. Because skunks won't spray you if it is dark . . . right!

Night 1. I put a hamburger bun in the trap.

Day 2. The trap is open, has been turned 45 degrees in the yard, and the bun is gone. (Did the raccoon use the rope to turn it?) I study the trap trying to figure this out. I get on Google to see what raccoons like to eat.

Night 2. I think the raccoon would enjoy an apple. But this time, I cut it in half so it can't scoop and run. I come inside. 20 minutes later, there is a raccoon in the cage. Apparently, when the cage door was sprung, the raccoon decided to eat the apple and take a nap. He actually looks quite content in there. His tummy is full and he is rather cute. (Note the photo is not our actual raccoon, but you get the idea.) I call my husband up to "deal with it."

It turns out that once you catch the raccoon, you have to make some decisions. It also turns out that I just don't have the heart to give the raccoon a swimming lesson or to have my husband shoot it. So I call my friend and ask what he does with them. He tells me that his wife won't let him kill them either, so he drives over the bridge and lets them go on our side of the river. Thanks a lot!

So after much consideration, we take him back across the bridge and let him go on my neighbor's side of the river. Then I send him the following email:

Dean,

We caught a raccoon last night. He had a tag around his neck that said, "If found, return to Dean."

Problem solved!

Those Aren't My Fish!

Who knew that fish could be so entertaining? On quiet evenings, we make our way down to the ponds with a small scoop of floating catfish food. Getting near the pond and not in the pond requires planning, balance and a bit of luck. So far, I'm running about 50/50.


The first couple of feedings, we could see fish were eating the food, but we couldn't see the fish themselves. And then came Friday. My husband and I climb down the hill, then up on the bank so we can see directly down into the water. We toss a handful of fish food into the water and within seconds, a small (8") silver fish with a black spot behind it's gill and on it's tail swims up and starts gobbling the food. My husband is so excited to finally see our fish. He says, "that's not what I thought carp looked like." I don't have the heart to tell him that isn't one of the fish I bought. We laugh as the fish gobbles up the food, and we toss in another handful.

Suddenly, we see a wave heading toward us. I look at my husband as I plan my escape and say, "Don't get between me and the Kubota!" I think something big is in the pond and it is coming our way. Mud begins churning at our feet, and then several large catfish start fighting over the food and push out little silver guy. Gene comments, "Those are nice sized catfish." And now I have to explain that those aren't the fish I just stocked the pond with. Who knew that we had fish in the pond already? I just spent $75 on fish. Where are they?

The Days of Summer

Memorial Day weekend brings the unofficial beginning of summer, and you know what that means . . . let the fairs begin! After two years of "getting settled," my goal for the summer is to visit as many small town festivals and county fairs as I can. I plan to eat my way through four counties in my quest for local flavor.

Hiawatha Hog Wild Days
Urbana Corn Days
Independence Brew-B-Q
Center Point Pork Days
Atkins Watermelon Days
Blairstown Sauerkraut Days
Monticello Red, White and Boom Bicycle Fest
North Liberty BBQ Roundup
154th Annual Great Jones County Fair
Benton County Fair
Johnson County Fair
Iowa Beer Festival
Wild West Weekend
Iowa City Jazz Fest
Woodfest

Fish Days, Dairy Days, every kind of corn or pork days, the list goes on and on. And I may hit 20 or so pancake breakfasts along the way. But I'm a little worried about the Keystone Testical Festival. I will let you know more about it once it is over.

Man Arrested for OWI with Zebra, Parrot in Front Seat of Truck

A man, a parrot, and a zebra walk into a bar . . . I know, it sounds like the opening of a joke. But truth is often funnier than fiction. From the newspaper:

"A Cascade man was arrested outside of a Dubuque bar on Sunday night with a pet zebra and a macaw parrot in the front seat of his truck. Officers charged the man with OWI. Police reports say officers stopped him in the parking lot of the Dog House Lounge as he drove away in his truck. According to police, field sobriety tests showed he had a blood alcohol level of .14.

The man said that he and his girlfriend see the animals like their kids and often take them for rides. On Sunday night, they say they took the zebra and the macaw to the bar because it often lets people bring their animals inside. The man says the owner told him they were serving food that night and he couldn’t bring a zebra inside the bar. Bar owners state that no animals are ever allowed inside the establishment.

At that time he went outside to put the animals in his truck and several people were in the parking lot taking pictures. (You think?!) He believes one of those people called police. The man disputes the charges and says he realized he was too drunk to drive and was about to let a passenger in the truck to take the wheel when he was arrested."

Man I love the newspaper! I have nothing more to add.

The Fish Are In!

It is the subtle statements in the instructions that always seem to create a problem. I remember assembling a stationary bike and getting to a simple instruction to insert bolt B into the crossbar and frame. Sounds simple enough, but in fact, a person would have to have eight arms, hang upside down and be a certified Twister Champion to complete the task. That is sort of how it felt when we went to gather pond water for the coolers to pick up our fish. Seriously, how hard could it be? They really should underline that little statement on the instructions for picking up your fish.

Plan A: We gathered buckets, coolers and rubber boots and headed down to the pond. The water is quite low right now due to a mild winter and dry spring. You would think that that would make it easier to get the water out of the pond. Oh no. It turns out that when you try to walk on the former bed of the pond, it is actually a bog. We immediately sink up to our knees as our boots become encased in mud. Now the fun begins. Who helps who out first?

Plan B: Somebody is going to get wet. I volunteer. This won't be the first pond I have ever swam in. Two steps into the pond, the water is over my boots. Good enough. Nobody said that we had to have water from the middle of the pond. Gene holds one of my arms as I lean in to get "better" water. Gene carries the water to the cooler. Repeat. Somebody should have had a better plan to get OUT of the pond.

Picking up the fish from the fish truck seemed uneventful. After gathering the water, I decided I might need some help in getting the fish back into the pond, so I told my husband, "I need a man." As he deliberated his response (this man has been married to me for nearly 30 years, he knows trouble when he hears it), I explained that there was no way I could walk the coolers down to the pond by myself, and the fish couldn't stay in the warm water all day. It might stress them out. (What about my stress?) So I called a neighbor who agreed to go with me and help me load them into the pond.

The truck is parked in the farm store parking lot and two guys sit and wait for people toting pond water to arrive. With a net, they quickly load your coolers and you are ready to go. They seemed surprised when I whipped out my camera to take their picture.

Getting the fish into the pond went really well. I let Dean do it! He only got stuck twice.

I have been feeding the fish every evening with floating catfish food. It only took two days for them to come when I call them by pounding on the bucket. My fish are smarter than your fish.

We Are Expecting!

Tomorrow is the big delivery date. Our fish arrive! I studied, I Googled, I talked to friends and searched the internet and finally placed my big fish order at the farm store. I ordered 5 grass carp and 25 catfish. It is a bit of a bizarre process. You fill out the paperwork and then the clerk gives you a stern warning, "The fish truck will be here on May 18th from 10:00-11:30 a.m. You need to bring your own pond water and containers." Yes Maam! When I told the clerk that I was going to name my fish, she blinked, then promptly said, "Name one of the catfish Whiskers." So that gave me an idea. I'm going to name all the catfish with cat names, and all the carp after types of grass.


I'm looking for suggestions, so email me if you have a great name and I will add it to the list. So far, I have:

Catfish: Felix, Garfield, Cleo, Morris, Tom (cat) and Whiskers (19 more to name!)

Grass Carp: Blue (grass), Fescue, and Bermuda (2 more to name)

I feel like an expectant parent. Like any good soon-to-be parent, I have picked up all the supplies I will need. In this case, a 50 lb. bag of floating catfish food, a container to store it in, and a scoop. I'm sure I'm missing something, but I cannot think of what it would be. If history is any indicator, there should be loads of blog material in my fish delivery tomorrow. I will keep you posted.

Since posting this blog entry, I have had several emails with additional names:
From Dean and Kathy:
Just thought Kathy and I would try to help you out with naming your fish. We had a lot of fun while trying to come up with names and here is a list for you to consider; Wild cat (Wilde), Black cat (nicknamed Firecracker), Bob cat (nicknamed Skidloader), Kitty cat, Ali cat, Top cat, Cool cat, Kit Kat, Stray cat, Sylvester the cat, Puddy tat, Tigger, Smelly cat ("Friends"), Scaredy and Fraidy cats, Jinks the cat, cat Nip and cat Nap, cat O-Nine Tails, cat Scan M.D., cat Tails, cat Sup, cat Walk, cat Burgler, cat Ballou, cat Bird, cat “In The Hat”, cat Mandu, cat Chall, and cat Ewampuss. Oh, and don't forget the "A" team- Apult, Agory and Atastrphe!



We also came up with a few suggestions for Grasscarp names. How about; Pampas, Smokin’, Wax Your, and Your Ass Is? Hey, now I think you need more fish!

From Clayton:
Carp: St. Augustine and Cannabis. Drawing a blank on cat names. Will send them as I come up with them.  There is also Crabgrass if one is cranky, and in case you have a crazy one Nutgrass,or cohld even go with Lovegrass for the romantic one.



Cat names, only came up with one other name. Not sure how appropriate but Pussy cat. Best I can do for now will keep thinking.

My reply:
St. Augustine - good one. I looked him up on Google: He is the patron saint of brewers, printers, theologians, the alleviation of sore eyes.


And Cannabis - you got me on that on. Could you just have said marijuana? I'm going to call that one "Weed" for short!

Ponds, Scum and Fish

It is that time of year where people ask me, "What is that stuff on your pond?" How should I know? It is green and slimy, so I thought it was algae. Some people tell me it is duck weed, and yet others say it is something else entirely. If I had a clue what it was, I would deal with it. It starts growing in the spring and can nearly cover our pond, then dies off in the fall. Algae treatments don't seem to effect it. I looked up Duckweed on the internet. Looks like someone is going to have to get wet to check this out.

I have decided to try adding some algae eating fish to the pond. Let's be clear. I know slightly less about ponds than I know about fish. But Theisen's Farm store is advertising that it is time to order your fish. I'm in! Sell me some fish. So here is the problem. They are selling Bluegill, Sunfish, Catfish, Bass, Minnows (do people really buy minnows to stock ponds?), Carp and Koi. I've heard of some of these, but couldn't pick any of them out of a line up except Koi and Catfish. Which ones eat algae and duckweed? Which ones don't otters eat?

Then there is the fine print. "Bring your own pond water and container on delivery day." Are you kidding? In what? How big are these fish, and how much pond water do they need? Do I need a plastic bag, cooler or a tank? When you get a fish at the State Fair, they provide the bag AND the water.

"Suggested stocking rate for 1 acre pond." Um, how big is my pond? I know it is less than an acre. I figured this out by circling the pond on an aerial shot of our property and cutting 14 copies of the circle out. I placed them on the image of our 14 acre lot, and they didn't cover it; so I know it is less than an acre. Clever, huh! The pond is too big for a measuring tape, so I suspect that you need one of those gadgets with a wheel to measure it. What is that going to cost me? This should be easier.

I'm going to go spread some grass seed. That is something I know how to do.

Final Thoughts on Snow Fences.

Today is the first day of spring and I can see grass turning green.  This is a first for my 17 years in Iowa.  I’m generally happy if the snow melts my mid-April.  Which brings me back to the issue of snow fences.  In my humble opinion, they work.  We installed two snow fences this year and it hasn’t snowed.  So problem solved.

20 Weeks to Preparedness Program

I have been reading with fascination the articles in the paper about the “20 Weeks to Preparedness Program” from Homeland Security. Each week, the local paper prints suggestions of items to gather for your disaster supply kit. This week, the list includes: duct tape, toothbrush and toothpaste, bleach for water purification, canned meat for each member of your family and contact lens solution. Seriously, who compiles these lists? Have then ever considered posting them in categories? Maybe there is a dollar limit on each week and they divide items up by value.

As I scan the list each week, I begin to feel a little paranoid. It appears that I have all these items already. What does that say about me? I mean, the kids already kid me about how their dorm rooms were the medical supply source for all their friends. I thought I was doing them a favor when I sent them to college with two of everything: Band-Aids, Rolaids, scissors, tape, cold remedy, stomach remedy, headache remedy, wart remover (you never know), etc.

Now that we live 25 miles from the nearest grocery store, my pantry resembles one of those “Disaster Bunkers” that I see on T.V. or the basement of someone on “Extreme Coupons”.  I feel a little "over stocked' when someone looks in my pantry and says, "Wow!"

When I travel, my children refer to my cosmetic bag as the “magic bag”. If you forgot to pack it, I have an extra in the magic bag. But if I'm ever on a deserted island and have my magic bag, I'm going to make the other survivors green with envy.

Off Road

Years ago, I remember a conversation in the car with my 4 year old son as he asked his father, “Daddy? How come you don’t drive in the grass like Mommy does?” My husband burst into laughter as I alternately glared at him and then my son. He patiently explained that people are not supposed to drive in the grass and that possibly I needed more practice. It turns out that I was practicing for future life experience. (Shows him!)

Our driveway is long and narrow as it winds up the hill to our home. It includes two sharp right-angled turns as well as a horse-shoe turn. It wasn’t made with visitors in mind. Inevitably, friends, delivery men and large trucks run off the side and we spend the spring filling in ruts. Visitors glance with fear in their eyes at the long backup required to turn around at the shop. They often comment that they are afraid they will drive in the grass. I just respond, “Don’t worry about it. Everyone drives in the grass up here.”

Gone are the days of the manicured lawn. After two years of gathering dust, we gave our edger to our son. Now, when we need to load firewood or debris, we just drive the truck, tractor or Kubota through the lawn to where we need it. It offers a certain amount of freedom that is refreshing. No more rules, no more pampering the lawn. Who says that driving on the grass will kill it? If driving on your lawn kills your grass, I think you need tougher grass! My only concern is that when I visit my city friends, I will forget my manners and park two wheels up on the curb on their lawn and they will stop inviting me over.

Snow Fences Revisited

Einstein has been credited with saying, “Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”  That is how I feel about snow fences.  It is January and we have reset snow fence #2 several times because it keeps falling down.  Success eludes us.  We have finally had our first snow and so far, the darn thing is still standing.  I think the snow is holding it up.  We are expecting 5-8 inches of snow tomorow.  I will keep you posted.

The Law of Good Intentions

While visiting my family in Texas over Thanksgiving, Gene and the kids enjoyed trap shooting one afternoon. They talked about it for days, so I decided that a great Christmas gift would be to buy Gene a clay trap thrower. How hard could it be? Well, it turns out that it is a bit more involved than just having good intentions.

Like all good shoppers, I got online and investigated various throwers (trap shooters to the well informed). I found one with a good rating and ordered it. Once it arrived, I discovered that you needed clay traps to go with it. Why don’t they do like other toys and give you a few to get started? I opened the box and read the directions to find out what size I needed—yes, there are three sizes. So off to the sporting goods store I went.

Now let me be clear about how my day was going. I had a bad head cold and concentrating and figuring things out was not my strong suit on this particular day. When I got to the store, I looked for the gun section and found two helpful looking men stocking the shelves. I asked them where the clay thingies were that you throw out for target practice. No one laughed. They said, “Do you mean clay trap?” and promptly showed me a mile high stack of them. I grabbed a box (gasp, they are heavy) and the man asked, “Do you need shot to go with these?” I said, “Huh?” He said they had 8 packs of shot on sale and it would be good to buy some. I asked to see them and then said, “Oh, you mean bullets.” Okay, I meant to say ammo, but my head was fuzzy and things weren’t processing really well.

At this point, the salesman should have figured out that I was out of my knowledge base, so maybe it was out of pure entertainment that he asked me, “What gauge gun does he have?” Gauge? I know I have heard that term before, but how am I supposed to know what gauge the gun is? I asked him if they printed the gauge on the side of the gun somewhere. He excused himself (I’m sure he had to go to the stock room to laugh). Then the other, 12-year old looking salesman came over to help. He showed me how to read the gauge and other info on the end of the box. Truly, these things should be sold in sets with everything included! I studied the display and reached with total confidence and picked out a box of shot. The way I see it, shot is cheap, so if I made a mistake we could either give it away or my husband would have to buy a new gun at the After Christmas Sale.

At this point, I huffed my way to the front of the store carrying what felt like 50 pounds of clay and 2 pounds of shot, purchased my goods, slid out the icy sidewalk to realize I couldn’t open the car door and juggle my load. I’m here to tell you, that the law of good intentions dictates that I’m due some really thoughtful gifts as payback for my efforts.