The scurs wondered what was up with the Weather Eye as temperatures on Friday were toasty. Some prankster slid the temperature lever over to hot again. Will we get back to more seasonal temps or are we in for another week in the broiler?
Starting Independence Day, partly sunny with a modest a moderate chance of evening showers and thunderstorms. Highs in the upper 80’s with lows in the low 70’s. Thursday, partly sunny with continued modest chances of showers and thunderstorms. Highs in the mid-80’s with lows in the mid-60’s. Sunny on Friday with highs in the low 80’s and lows in the low 60’s. Saturday, sunny with highs in the low 80’s and lows in the mid-60’s. Sunny for Sunday with highs in the low 80’s and lows in the low 60’s. Monday, partly sunny with a modest chance of showers and thunderstorms. Highs in the mid-80’s and lows in the upper 60’s. Mostly sunny Tuesday with possible a.m. showers and thunderstorms. Highs in the upper 80’s with lows in the upper 60’s.
The normal high for July 4th is 83 and the normal low is 62. The sun will set at 8:59 p.m. and we’ll be down to 15 hours and 22 minutes of daylight, having lost 6 minutes since the summer solstice. After evading the fireworks police, the scurs will be erecting snow fence and putting the chains back on the tractor. Fun’s over folks.
Fun continued for crops this past week in spite of the heat as we finally started to see some sunshine. June was a wet one in many locations and the ranch was no exception. We tallied 7.94” of rain for the month and in Bugtussle proper a paltry 5.91”. This is far above the normal at the SROC in Waseca where average June precip is 4.69”. Aside from a couple major unexpected rainfall events at the ranch, most of the rainfall came in measured amounts over time, helping to keep nitrogen and soil in place. The corn crop continues to cruise along and we should see some fields tasseled by the 2nd week in July. Some tassels are already evident in early planted fields. Soybeans too are busy recovering from their dose of postemerge herbicide. Plans were altered as a result of the June 20th cutoff date for spraying dicamba tolerant soybeans. Some weeds were large and heavy so there may be some messy looking fields as a result. Making dry hay too has been about as difficult as I’ve ever seen it. One had to time it just right and be on the stick because the window of opportunity was very short. Hopefully second cutting will be more forgiving in that respect.
The mosquitoes have suddenly become ferocious. The standing water from the rainfall events the third week in June was definitely in their favor. I’m not sure what kind they are but they take no prisoners. There are hordes of them and anytime mowing in sheltered areas they were after me like a swarm of killer bees. Luckily they couldn’t handle the stiff breeze in the open. Also noticeable were a large number of barn swallows that suddenly appeared, swooping around me and sweeping the grass for flying insects. There were also scads of small toads around a half inch long jumping out of the long grass before the mower got there to chop it off. I don’t know if they’re big enough to eat mosquitoes yet but someday they will be. Eat up, toads!
I was dreading putting up the first cutting hay. It was heavy, rank and the weather had been totally uncooperative. Relying on my beef cow neighbors for a large portion of it, a poor shepherd has to be flexible. It doesn’t make much sense to have a lot of expensive haying equipment for five acres of hay. I was finally able to cut it last Wednesday and with the blast furnace-like conditions forecast for Friday, odds were favorable that it would get dry. The ground in both fields was wet and most places the soil looked like snot in the tracks after cutting. And without some knowledge of the south field, one could’ve easily gotten stuck, enshrining them in the Hall of Shame. Too many cell phone cameras, text messages, Facebook, Snapchat, Twitter, etc., to get by with that anymore. There was water standing in the tracks in places afterwards. I’d remembered my Dad’s advice to get off and look before you drive through it. Still good advice and I’d used it.
Friday was as advertised, hot and windy so raking the hay up in the morning to take advantage of those conditions was critical. There was still a lot of green underneath when I turned it. When I got done raking I felt the effects of the heat and kept a low profile until time to check the hay. It got ready in good shape and the Little Dubya baled it up in large round bales early that evening. What a relief after being delayed as long as it was. There was still the matter of getting the hay home though. I was worried especially on that south field that getting it baled might’ve been the easy part. Getting the bales off without rutting everything up or getting stuck might be a challenge if the forecast held.
Saturday morning I was contemplating lawn mowing when I heard the Dubya’s back at it with their forage chopper. All of the sudden neighbor Jon, also a beef cow operator, called me. He mentioned that he was going by the one field and noting that the Dubya’s were up to their armpits in alligators, offered to bring some of the bales home with his bale wagon. I counter offered to help him haul some with my 22’ trailer so we got after it. Of course the “let no good deed go unpunished” axiom applied. There was a hornet’s nest to deal with first on my trailer, a flat tire on the tractor and the hitch broke on the bale wagon. Battling through the normal adversity however, it didn’t take long and everyone’s hay was moved. Mrs. Cheviot reported the Dubya’s also had a flat tire so at least they didn’t feel left out. A minor inconvenience was losing a small trowel I’d left lying on the trailer. I’d used it for digging the crud out from under the mower decks for years.
The Big Dubya called after we had gotten everything put away and mentioned there was a partial bale they’d dumped off at his place. It puzzled him to see our bales going by, making him wonder how I’d loaded them. It was a good thing I had my Wheaties that morning I told him. We discussed our day’s events and I mentioned that I’d lost the trowel. He laughed and said that Gracie had found what she thought was an antique shovel in the road. Being an antique myself I could relate. When I went there with the tractor to retrieve the bale, I got my trowel back. We had some good laughs although with the sky threatening, it was time to head home. In retrospect I had to be so thankful at the week’s turn of events. The hay was baled, off the fields and home where it belonged. Everyone was able to get their work to a stopping point ahead of the rain. The range wars are long since over and we have the best neighbors we could possibly have.
See you next week…real good then.