The Polar Plunge caught most of Omaha with its pants down, oopsie. Not so out here on Our Little Slice. I spent the last couple of weeks using what I learned last year and mimicking what my neighbors were doing. Getting things done. Winterizing. All the leaves raked and into the compost pile. Those late fall stragglers- carrots and onions and beets and parsnips and pears and dried pole beans and coriander all completely harvested over the weekend, the unseasonal mid 60s our ally. When the temps, and snow, dropped we were ready. I’ve had my wood burning stove going for close to 48 hours, bring it on.
So the larders are fairly bursting with good produce. Our freezers too now filled to brimming. Our half a beef sharing quarters with a whole hog. My old buddy Brian Bergt (The Amherst Flash) has a 1500 head operation and I’ll tell you I’ve never had better. He was kind enough to deliver the processed and frozen pork to me at this weekend’s GLH. Thank you Brian!! You’re amazing running skills no less than your farming prowess.
Fifty four and flying! Brian ran a 1:25:15 on less than 20 miles per week, the farm life, especially with winter approaching, taking precedent over all else. photo courtesy of Mandy Sue
Real Gun Show. As Linda and I were finishing the harvest Sunday afternoon we noticed an unfamiliar truck pull into our long driveway. Unusual, if you’re not invited you’ve got no business. And we don’t cotton to strangers. I approached the truck and a hepped up, hopped up fella emerged and said he wanted to give me the horizontal freezer in the back. Said their semi had broke down and they needed to unload this so they could get back on the road. What? Oh, and by the way it happens to be full of Iowa grass fed steaks. I was born at night, but not last night. Nor did I just fall off the turnip truck. Suspicion and hackles immediately raised. Told him I had no interest. “But how can you pass this deal?” Again, “I’m Not interested, got no money for you.” He then coming within inches and demanding “You’ve got a check don’t you!?!?” Told him to hold on a moment and I’d go confer with my partner.
Returned a moment later with my strongest counsels, Mr. Westernfield and Jedediah, now worked up to 110 pounds of extremely pissed off. Chambered a shell, fired a 12 gauge warning shot over the bow, and watched those thieving suckers scramble off the property post haste. Jed fast on their wheels.
The Bar None, where everyone is welcome, as long as you’re invited!
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