Innholdsfortegnelse for August - September 2016 i Farm and Ranch Living

AS SUMMER WINDS DOWN, city folks load up the kids and head to the country to visit apple orchards, corn mazes, pumpkin patches, hayrides and tractor shows. It’s a wonderful way for people who are a generation or two removed from the farm to reconnect with their roots and show the kids that food doesn’t just magically appear in the supermarket. Even if you farm for a living, you’ll enjoy these farms and shows every bit as much as your city cousins. Take Shiloh Acres Family Dairy, which is featured on page 32, for example. Fifteen-year-old Sarah Ring, one of 13 kids, grows pumpkins in her garden to sell and helps out at her family’s bulk food store near Conneaut, Ohio. After reading her diary, we think you’ll agree that…

Amazing Aunt Mary Mary Hughes, my aunt, is 83 years old and still lives on the farm in Cedar County, Missouri. This land has been in my family for more than a century. She is an amazing lady, and we all cherish her. Mary is a retired fourth-grade teacher and very active in her community. Her loyal dog, Brownie, is her best friend and companion. She has six cows, puts a garden out every year and cans her vegetables in the summer to share with family and friends. She loves flowers, especially her heirloom rose bushes and hollyhocks. But Mary’s true passion is chickens. She buys and hatches chicks every spring and likes to compare their growth and production. Her favorite breeds are Golden Laced Wyandotte and Phoenix. She enjoys…

She was no farm dog or pet; she had a job to do, and she did it very well. The neighbors belatedly celebrated the Fourth of July one Saturday night by shooting off fireworks within a few yards of our sheep sheds. The next morning my husband, John, went to feed the sheep, but our Anatolian Shepherd Dog/Great Pyrenees-cross didn’t show up like usual. He called, “Bella! Here, Bella!” over and over—not that she would ever come when we called, but she was normally curious enough to check out anyone messing with her sheep. That afternoon her food pan was still full, so we searched our 18 acres. Then John drove the roads in all directions calling, listening and looking for her. Bella had been guarding our flock for about…

We farmed with three Allis-Chalmers tractors when I was growing up, and I always wanted to restore a WD45. So when I spotted one a few years ago at a neighbor’s farm sale, I knew it was time to take the leap. It had been sitting in a pasture, providing a stable home for mice and mud daubers for many years. The metalwork was almost perfect, other than the rust. But the motor was stuck, the tires had rotted off and cattle had chewed the wiring. Still, I thought I could save it. I took it completely apart and replaced all the seals and bearings when I rebuilt the engine, transmission and rear end. Lots of parts were worn and rusted, but I saved everything I could. Then I sandblasted…

Everyone calls it The Red Bomb. We purchased our new three-quarter-ton Chevrolet Apache in 1958 for $1,850. Before we got bigger trucks, it sported removable stock racks and sideboards that let us haul 100 bushels of soybeans or corn. We also installed a hydraulic hoist so we could dump the pickup and the 150-bushel barge box wagon we pulled behind it at harvest time. Wow, 250 bushels at a whack! The Bomb has been in continuous use since we bought it. Our three children and our five grandchildren learned to drive in this vehicle. After all, if they can drive a four-speed, floor-mounted manual transmission, they can drive anything. It served as our irrigation truck since we put in our first well. The well pumped water to open ditches, which…

Douglas Beery, my father, grew up on a farm with corn, wheat, pigs, cows and chickens near Westfield, Indiana. They pulled the farm equipment with mules, and Dad claimed that one of those mules, named Rastus, was the meanest mule in the world. If he couldn’t kick you, he’d bite you. Dad had two sisters, and all three of the kids worked hard helping their folks. But I learned to take his stories about getting to school with a grain of salt. My family lived in Santa Fe, New Mexico, during my elementary school and junior high years. And anytime I’d complain about having to ride my Cushman Road King scooter to school in bad weather, Dad reminded me about how he had to walk five miles uphill through three…

Nestled in the rugged Green Mountains of northern Vermont, Boyden Farm showcases a creative blend of diversified, community-focused enterprises that allow three families from two generations to share the farm while pursuing their separate dreams. It’s a fitting business model in a state where the official motto is “Freedom and Unity.” The family first settled here in the town of Cambridge in 1914 when Fredrick and Phila Boyden bought 300 acres along the Lamoille River. They moved into a brick farmhouse that still sits safely on high ground, and raised nine children along with 28 dairy cows and a pen full of pigs. Fred and Diancy are the third generation of Boydens to earn a living on the farm. Sons Mark and David are the fourth. A fifth generation, all…

The little white barn door creaks open, revealing thousands of dust fairies dancing on a sunlit stage. I step into the barn and join shadows formed by mows of hay and cluttered groups of machinery. The barn floor lies in stillness before me like a giant treasure chest waiting to be opened by my young, adventurous soul. The aroma of fresh hay filters down from neatly stacked bales, mixing itself with the dusty odor of scraggly meadow grass still unused after a year of patient waiting. Cattle and fermenting silage nearby add their scents to create a barn recipe loved by generations of farmers and their children. My footsteps are soft and quiet. I walk on a thick carpet of hay stems and leaves. Frightened kittens hide themselves, too shy…

I was 19 in the fall of 1997 when I asked my dad if I could paint something on the hay barn. I’d always been able to get small sign-painting jobs in high school, and I wanted to work bigger. With a piece of chalk in my right hand and a paper copy of the design in my left, I began freehanding marks on the weathered barn boards. Up and down the bouncy old ladder I went, checking my progress from the cow pasture, until the chalk outline perfectly matched the image on my paper. A little more than a week later, a 20-foot Ohio State Block O and Brutus Buckeye decorated our old barn. My grandfather “Pap” Hagan was so happy with the results that he snapped some photos…

Ginseng may sound like some trendy New Age herb, but I remember walking through my grandfather’s ginseng garden when I was just a little girl. My mother’s parents, William and Emma Berger, lived on a large farm in Marathon County, Wisconsin, which has been the ginseng capital of the U.S. for more than a century. According to agronomists at the University of Wisconsin, ginseng once thrived as a wild forest plant along America’s Eastern seaboard, stretching all the way from Maine to Alabama, and west to Michigan, Wisconsin and Minnesota. Ginseng was one of the country’s earliest marketable herbs. But wild ginseng was severely over-harvested; it’s now an endangered species. In Wisconsin, you can’t harvest ginseng on state land; you need a permit to harvest it on private land, and…

Cheers for 4-H Kids! “The Newaygo County Fair is filled with awesome 4-H’ers who display their crafts and show their animals,” says Shirley Visser of Fremont, Michigan. “Our grandson Tucker and his cousin Nevaeh, both 2, can’t wait to join in the fun!” “My son, Tanner, was so proud of his trusty sidekick, Zippy, after the 4-H horse show at the Northwest Montana Fair,” says Becky Hoerner of Columbia Falls, Montana. “After a year of hard work, fairs are the payoff for 4-H kids,” says Paula Ritschard of Monticello, Wisconsin. “I’m a retired leader, and I spotted this sweet moment after the dairy show.”…

As a teacher, I’m glad when summer work provides extra income. But I’m especially grateful for the summer I worked as a weed inspector for the Department of Agriculture in British Columbia’s Peace River Regional District. The farmers in the district are supposed to recognize and control noxious weeds such as sow thistle, Canada thistle, tansy, wild oats and yellow toadflax. Even oxeye daisy looks pretty in meadows and yards but can seriously harm crops. After initial training and passing an exam to prove I could identify harmful plants, I was hired to check farmland, forestry roads, recreation areas and trails, oil patch leases and even garbage dumps—which were frequented by bears. I loved the area assigned to me in northern British Columbia. It stretched from Fort St. John—near Mile…

“My husband knew my dream was to live in the country.” When Colleen Barker-Borgares and her daughter Sharon discovered miniature Olde English Babydoll Southdown sheep at a Watrous, Saskatchewan, petting zoo, it was love at first sight. Colleen and her husband, Mark, had moved to a small farm in 2003 and were looking to acquire some livestock. “My daughter said to me, ‘Mom, you’ve got to get these—they’re just so cute!’” Colleen says. She agreed and purchased a male and female in 2005 for the family’s Buster Hollow farm in the picturesque Qu’Appelle Valley, northwest of Regina. Olde English Babydoll Southdown sheep are a hardy heritage breed that originated in the 1700s on the South Down Hills of Sussex County, England. They enjoyed popularity for many years, and by 1908…

My grandpa Phillip Boshears bought his 1946 Farmall A in 1957 for $750 to use on his 100-acre farm near Unionville, Indiana. The tractor came with a plow, disk, cultivator and mower. One rare option on this machine is the Pneumatic Lift-All, which International Harvester used on the A and B models before they switched to hydraulics on the Super A and Super B. The large, dark-colored Lift-All cylinder sits beside the fuel tank on the left side. It uses exhaust gas pressure to raise and lower mounted implements. Grandpa used the A for plowing, disking, planting, cutting and raking hay, pulling hay wagons, spreading manure, mowing, dragging logs and hauling firewood. He had the engine rebuilt in the late 1960s and replaced the clutch and rear tires. As newer,…

In the late ’40s my grandfather, better known as “Baba,” bought a new Ford 8N tractor. My father bought the family farm when he married my mother in 1956, and the little tractor came with the farm. Like most of my siblings, I learned to drive on Baba’s tractor. It raked every field of hay, fixed every fence, pulled every hay wagon from the field to the barn and mowed roadsides in its free time. I loved this little tractor. Even though I know it is an inanimate object, Baba’s tractor had its own personality and was as loyal as the family dog. But when I returned from college in 1980, my father and brother had decided that they needed to trade in the 8N for a bigger tractor. I…

“But as long as I have corn to defend, I will beat them ... They can’t outsmart me!” My sweet corn showed signs of ripening, and I was dreaming of that first ear dripping in butter and salt, when a neighbor stopped by to tell me that you have to be an idiot to plant sweet corn around here. Why? The raccoons will eat it all. I replied that a person just has to be smarter than the raccoons and vowed to keep this journal as an inspirational guide for future gardeners. August 20—I headed out to pick my first ears of corn today and discovered that the raccoons took everything that was ready—about two dozen ears. I have plenty more, but I plan to put an end to it.…