The BF and I spent Sunday doing spring clean-up at his place. It was only fair, since he helped me spruce up my garden, move the grill, turn the compost, etc. So I put on my trusty overalls, my '50s rhinestone shades, and a pair of work gloves to commence cleanup. See photo at left of me on the 4-wheeler. (I couldn't get the tiara to stay on.)
Real farm clean up is completely different than here at the Fraudulent Farmstead. Here I bag trash, chop up brush for my mini-brush pile, toss weeds into the compost heap, and mow the yard in about 6 minutes flat. There, we began by picking up deadfall from the trees, throwing them into a trailer hooked to the 4-wheeler. We disassembled a rotting firewood pile, also chucking that stuff into the trailer. Then we drove the 4-wheeler to a spot about 2 miles away, where we dumped all that debris into a gully. The theory is that it will all rot down, and in the process, it helps control erosion in the wash.
The BF's mom got out the most amazing riding lawn mower I've ever seen to cut the nearly 4-acre lawn. We dug weeds and unproductive brambles out of the bed we're going to plant with raspberries, in part so that the BF could get to some old pipes sticking out of the pole barn. They ran to the hog waterer (hog waterer!) when the pole barn was a hog house. Then the BF used a torch to cut the pipes off. We also used the 4-wheeler to pull down an old fence and haul that wood to the gully.
Let's review, shall we? 4-wheelers, riding lawn mowers, and acetylene torches. Farm clean up is WAY cooler than here in the city.
After a considerable amount of labor, I crashed, leaving the BF to his last job: screwing the tin roof back down to the pole barn in a couple of spots. Fortunately, he didn't fall during this process, as I was not conscious enough to dial 911 had he rolled off the roof.
Throughly caked in dirt and pollen, we headed inside for showers. (The BF informs me that according to farmer tradition, I should not wash my overalls until they can practically walk by themselves.) We rode the 4-wheeler over to the BF's mom and step-dad's place for steaks on the grill. It was a hugely productive and shockingly fun day. The BF says that if I keep up this way, I might have to drop "fraudulent" from my screen name.
Above, I bond with the BF's cattle dog, Dutch.
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