Category: North Carolina

Riverbend Farm, Day 8

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For the next few posts I will be writing about two people with the same first name, Kevin. To avoid confusion I will refer to my Kevin (Kevin May) and the other Kevin (Kevin Shanahan or Julia’s Kevin). I may occasionally call them Kevin M and Kevin S.

Yesterday I made the trip to Raleigh/Durham airport to pick up my Kevin and fetch him back to the farm. He met the Shanahans last August when they visited Hayward, but their time with him was brief. I reintroduced him to the family and gave him a walking tour of the house, barns, property and our Haw River trails. It was gorgeous weather. We hadn’t been together for a while, except on the phone, so there was catching up to do. 

I have been helping Julia with the evening meals while here, so I enlisted my Kevin’s help in the kitchen. I think the hardest thing about mealtime is deciding what to make. Kevin has an idea for almost any kind of meat, so I was glad to hear what he would do with the several pounds of chicken breast in the fridge. We had a pretty decent dinner ready when Julie got home from work. Kevin S, his daughter Reagan and son Camden (aka Bubba), Gwennie, Julia, Keven M and I all sat down around the dining table and had dinner at the same time. I only mention this because it doesn’t happen a lot for various reasons. It was nice. 

My Kevin has been making inroads with Gwennie, big time. For some reason, unknown to any of us, she has decided to call him Mr. Jim. It’s okay—I had been wondering what she should call him. I really didn’t want her to think all grown men were called Kevins. He made the astute move of calling up “Itsy Bitsy Spider” on his phone. That was followed by “No More Monkeys Jumping on the Bed” and “Twinkle, Twinkle”. Her fascination with screens is very evident and her memory is great. She now asks Mr. Jim to play songs on his phone every time she sees him. 

My daughter Julia has always been great at making lists of stuff she wants done. Last Tuesday, on her day off, we rode around the farm in the mule. We made lists of everything that needed to be done. She says we need lists so that we’ll know what to do when we have a spare minute. After seeing the list I was pretty sure there wouldn’t be any spare minutes, ever. It’s a farm. Farms are where things go to break, deteriorate and sometimes die. Except for brush, weeds and thorns which seem to thrive remarkably well. 

My Kevin doesn’t like to be a freeloader. Today we looked at the list and chose a job to do which we didn’t think would be too difficult. I take that back. I have no idea why we chose that job. We decided to clear the weeds from around some piles of stacked black walnut lumber. 

This valuable lumber had been drying in the open for quite a while and needed to be protected. The plan was to re-stack it under a large semi trailer close by. Many of the slabs were two inches thick and very heavy. They were stacked on pallets that had rotted. High grass and evil thorny vines were all around them, but we conquered. We weed whacked, raked, and made a huge burn pile with all the bark and waste wood. We are tired but quite satisfied with our work. Welcome to North Carolina, Kevin M. 

Fortunately we put dinner in the crock pot before we went out to tackle lumber piles. Tonight we are having beef/ barley/vegetable stew and some good looking cheesy bread we picked up at Publix this morning. We will probably be having Ibuprofen for dessert. 

So, on to the weekend. The weather is still looking good and I’m hoping for a nice walk in a nearby park. 

Wood we saved. Some slabs were actually 3 inches and as long as the trailer was wide.
The burn pile.
I spent a lot of time under this trailer today. Shady and cool.

Work in Progress

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I am very much of the mind that my time on earth is really just a character classroom, a “dry run” for something later. I am a work in progress and am often gently reminded of that. In the area of work, how to view it, how to manage it and how not to be managed by it, I am not alone. We humans seem to fall into the lazy style on one end of the spectrum, and the workaholic style on the other end. It has taken old age, and a general lack of energy to push me more toward the middle.

Yesterday was Julia’s birthday. One of the gifts I wanted to give her was my time, toward some task that she hasn’t been able to get done. I know that jobs like that constitute a mental burden and weigh heavily over time. She thought for a moment and then explained that her garden full of weeds was exactly that sort of burden. On her days off, GwennieRu doesn’t give her the amount of time outside to do large jobs. I like working outside and was glad to adopt the project.

I have some views toward work that probably conflict with good practice. One of them is that if a job is worth doing, it is worth overdoing. The other is that I like to finish what I start. Both of these were happening yesterday as I worked in the garden.

North Carolina is full of vining plants, like wisteria and morning glory, that wind themselves around fences and other plants till there is no separating them. Tomatoes, asparagus and raspberry plants had been attacked by these vines and I started trying to free them. The piles of weeds grew and grew as I heaved them over the fence.

I also kept finding large rocks and wanting to move them. The garden is in a spot that evidently was where the original house was built on this property. The foundation was made of river rock, which gives an idea of their size. Many of these rocks are so big that I can barely move them, but that does not keep me from trying.

Back breakers

By the time I was finished weeding and hauling all that vegetation out to rot in the woods, I was exhausted, dirty, and dehydrated. It was 4:00 pm and time to go in and relieve the babysitter. The evening was a little more relaxing. However, I have successfully passed the workaholic gene to Julia who finished off her birthday by painting a room in the basement, after a full day doing veterinary work. No one stopped for dinner until 8:30 pm, but I was gone by then.

Today is marked by overall soreness and a headache. Hired help has the baby today so I was glad to tend to quiet tasks in my trailer this morning.

Moderation in All Things 101, is the class I can’t seem to pass. God worked hard for six days before he had to rest, but he is more spirit than body. I clearly am not God, and although it feels really good to finish a job, I should probably have taken at least two days to wrap this one up.

Before
After. It doesn’t look that big, but it was full of plants that didn’t want to leave.

Being Grandma in 2024

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This year has produced three times with GwennieRu so far. The first was in December – February when she had her heart surgery, the second was when she visited Wisconsin in April, and now I am with her and the family again at the end of May.

I chose this date to come because Daddy Kevin and the boys were traveling to a baseball game in Baltimore for three days. During that time, it was me, Julia, Gwennie, Ryleigh and her girlfriend, and Reagan and her girlfriend holding things together at the farm. We all helped with baby care. I helped with farm chores and some landscaping projects. We women can do some awesome getting along when we set our minds to it.

The boys left Thursday afternoon, earlier than I was expecting. I was out getting my food supplies when the nanny called me and wanted to know who was taking over, as she needed to get home. I did a U-turn and came home to relieve her. Julia was soon home from work and we started our time without the men.

Friday morning – well, first I must explain about the dogs. Back in February I mentioned the mating of Penny the lab, and Hanky Panky the poodle. Eight puppies resulted from this union. The planned kennel area in the basement had not materialized and the puppies had been born and raised in the living room and kitchen, upstairs. Sales of Doodles have dropped off since Covid time and the six remaining puppies are now 10 weeks old. Previously, it had been a challenge living with the three adult dogs who are good at being in the way at every opportunity. Now there are nine dogs. Six of them are still in the process of being trained. Six of them are small enough to slip under the chain link fence when left outside. Need I say more.

We are so cute, and we know it.

Friday morning my first trick was mixing cereal, getting Gwennie in the high chair and feeding her. It didn’t go quite as planned. When Gwennie doesn’t want something, like sitting in the high chair, she makes it impossible to happen. Fighting her and the newfangled baby equipment resulted in a bowl of cereal upside down on the carpet and a distressed child (not to mention a distressed grandma).

Julia left for work, and I took Kevin’s usual job of watching Gwennie until the nanny arrived. I had not quite caught on to the morning routine, and Gwennie could tell. I picked her up to comfort her and walked to the kitchen in time to see several puppies, outside, on the wrong side of the fence. Babe in arms, I rushed out to secure them before they ran away.

Calling “puppies, puppies, puppies” as I had heard Julia doing, I opened the gate expecting them to come back in the yard. Instead, the puppies who had still been in the yard ran out to play with their siblings as I struggled to control the flow. Gwennie was mesmerized, clinging to me as, one handed, I tried to scoop them in the right direction. Once in the yard, they followed me into the house and I shut their doggy door. Thankfully, the nanny arrived and I went out to find the new escape route and block it.

Doing that, the feeding chores, and a good bit of weed whacking took most of my day. Later that evening, as I was telling Julia about my morning, she dejectedly asked me if this visit was turning out to be as bad as the last time. Seeing the situation on the farm through the lens of my writing had been kind of hard on her. That is the tricky thing about writing experiences of the kind where one has to laugh to keep from crying. In reality, Julia has to do this ALL THE TIME, and I know she is doing the best job she can. I am now learning to laugh more while in the midst of the normal chaos. Just so you know Julie, my visits to you and the family are rich with all kinds of experiences that I do not regret or shy away from.

Tomorrow, my week of substitute nanny begins. I am looking forward to being with Gwennie, the family, the dogs and puppies. Just sayin’…

Don’t worry Grandma. You will get the hang of it, eventually.

Adventures: Minding the Farm

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My 6 month old granddaughter’s surgery is this coming Thursday. Both parents are taking time off to stay with her in the hospital for the expected 3 – 5 days in ICU and step down units. I am staying home to mind the farm. My goal is that all animals be alive and where they are supposed to be when Julia and Kevin return.

You’ve heard enough about the dogs. Of course, they get fed every morning and evening (and anything they can get in between).

I’m writing this to see if I remember all the instructions I’ve been given.

MORNING CHORES

In the barn:

1. Feed Rosie the horse, 3 handfuls of horse feed (1 from her previous kind, 2 from the one she’s transitioning to) plus a squirt of some kind of goop

2. Feed Kita the horse, 3 cups of her feed, 2 doses of supplement, 2 scoops of diatomaceous earth, wetted down with a little bit of water. Hay for the day, and check water.

3. Feed Heidi the goat. Small scoop of goat feed, water, hay as needed.

4. Prepare feed for field animals. 2 buckets with 2 large scoops each of horse feed for horses, fill with water and let soak. Also a bucket of all stock feed for sheep – 1 large scoop.

5. Put halter on Rosie and lead her to pasture for the day. Leave halter on gate. Clean her stall.

6. Put buckets and bales of hay in Mule

Rosie, out to pasture
The Mule (an indispensable helper)

In the field:

1. For ponies, goats, rams – throw hay in two or three spots, at least half a bale

2. For horses – dump the two buckets in separate feed tubs, make sure donkey gets a little from the sheep bucket. Hay in hay box, about 3/4 bale. Check water.

3. For sheep (ewes) – dump their feed in feed tub. Put hay in for sheep and Rosie (they share a pasture). Check water. (Question: how do I keep Rosie from eating the sheep feed?)

Field horses and Carlos the donkey, finishing their morning hay

EVENING CHORES

In the barn:

1. Feed Kita, same as in morning, more hay if it’s really cold. Check water.

2. Feed Heidi. Check hay and water

3. Go get Rosie from field, feed her medicine with a handful of her food. Put rest of her food in the stall with her. Hay, couple flakes, and water.

4. Prepare feed for field animals as in the morning.

5. Buckets for horses and sheep in the Mule, along with hay for all in the field

In the field:

1. Toss hay to ponies, donkey and goats, at least half a bale. Check water.

2. Feed horses their buckets as in the morning. Hay again, 3/4 bale. Water should be good if checked in the morning.

3. Feed sheep their bucket and some hay, check water.

Sheep, doing their thing

Adventures at Julia’s Farm: The Haw

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There are quite a few things that fascinate me, among them are recreational fires (not forest fires!) and rivers. They don’t have to be big rivers either. As a child, I discovered a small creek at my grandparent’s farm and you would have thought I’d discovered a new ocean, even though it dried up completely in dry years. Just the thought of water coming from somewhere distant and flowing past me in seemingly endless supply was so alluring.

That is now one of the most exciting things about being in North Carolina, where there are rivers and creeks EVERYWHERE. You aren’t here long before you notice that most of their roads are named after churches or rivers and the mills and bridges connected to them. Indeed, Riverbend Farm where I am staying with my daughter’s family is on Brooks Bridge Road, and Brooks Bridge crosses the Haw River. The Haw borders the northeast boundary of Riverbend Farm and the riding trail that follows it is one of my favorite places to explore.

Pre-flood, the Haw has some whitewater stretches
The black line shows the river trail. Arrow 1 was our first try, arrow 2 ends at the junction of Shanahan Creek and the Haw where the lake was.

I get to look at about half a mile of this 110 mile river. It used to have quite a few dams blocking it, providing power for early industrialization of the area. One of the dams is along this half mile, just north of Brooks Bridge. There are projects planned to remove some of the dams and restore the river to a cleaner, more recreational use, but there is nothing like that happening on the stretch I see. I feel sorry for this part of the Haw, especially when there are heavy rains like we’ve had this winter. It is swift, muddy and choked with uprooted trees and debris.

The dam at Brooks Bridge

But it is still fascinating to see what a river does, when it is the recipient of a large watershed. “I should go down there and check it out”, I said to myself after our last two day deluge. I had heard reports of water high enough to cover the road, although I could hardly imagine it could happen.

Kevin, Julia’s husband, creates the riding trails through his property down to the river and through 30 acres of land that was clear cut a few years ago. The forest will grow back, but right now it’s treacherous with downed trees, undergrowth of berry bushes, holly and other thorny plants. I followed the trail down a steep hill to the path along the river. Did I mention that GwennieRu was with me in the buggy? Yes. And the hill was steep enough that I turned the buggy around and backed down it. I didn’t plan on having to go up that hill again. So much for plans.

We eventually came upon places where the river breached the trail. Even though the backwaters were not flowing, there was no telling how deep and muddy they were so I had to go back the way we had come.

We tried another trail accessing the river and at the bottom of that one there was a lake where there’s not usually a lake. A small creek drains much of Riverbend Farm and it enters the Haw at this junction. The banks are usually four or five feet above the creek but on this day there were no banks.

The trail down the hill
The muddy Haw at flood stage
Part of the flooded trail
Junction Shanahan Creek and Haw
Flood stage erosion

This ever changing nature of the river, along with the power of its moving water is both eerie and fascinating. Although not in danger ourselves, being close enough to hear the rapids, and see huge trees that have fallen in and been carried along – it’s breathtaking. I can’t get enough of looking and imagining.

Log jams like this are not uncommon and difficult to clean up.

I would love to see this part of the river cleaned up and made navigable but it is far too big of a project for an individual landowner to tackle. Fortunately, most of the time the river is much lower, the trails dry out and life along the river returns to normal. It’s a beautiful place to walk or ride horse, and I feel blessed to finally have an interesting river in my life.

But you will not catch me down there when it’s chigger season, no, no, no. Been there, done that. Just sayin’… (Click here for that story.)

Each Unique Day

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I expect to pass through this world but once;

any good thing therefore that I can do, or any

kindness that I can show to any fellow-creature,

let me do it now; let me not defer or neglect it,

for I shall not pass this way again.

Stephen Grellet

Every day, good or bad, is unique and should be appreciated as such. There will never be another one exactly like it.

I awoke last Sunday morning, wondering what had roused me when it was still so dark, I realized that it was cold. That was not so unusual, but it shouldn’t have been the case. The RV that has become my room at Gwennie Ru’s farm cools off quickly at night so I leave the propane furnace turned on. Clearly it had not been running and it was 55 degrees.

But I soon realized that it was not the cold that was bothering me. I could hear a sound, a lot like a child crying, and it was repeating again and again. I had never heard it before, and it was disturbing. I put on shoes and a sweatshirt over my pajamas, hunted up a flashlight, and went outside to investigate.

It was Heidi, the goat. My RV is parked near the barn where Heidi has a stall. She is a small animal and was perched up where she could look out at me. She looked fine, was not tangled in anything, and had sufficient food and water. Yet, she kept calling, or crying, I’m not sure which.

I spent the next hour listening to her while I read my furnace manual from front to back. I understood very little of it, but one instruction stood out as being reasonable. Turn off the thermostat and reboot. I pass myself off as a genius with all sorts of devices by turning off and rebooting.

By the time I had learned about furnace “lock out” and done all my rebooting, I was late getting ready for church. I didn’t feel like hurrying and told Kevin and Julie I would come later by myself. This resulted in our family taking three cars for the half hour journey. Julia took her work vehicle because she was on call. She barely has room for Gwennie’s car seat in there. Kevin drove the family car and had Felix, the German exchange student, with him.

On my way, in my car, I considered the uniqueness of my morning. Being awakened by a bleating goat was so unusual. Learning about furnace lock out was interesting. And if those things weren’t enough, I looked up and saw a sign that I had never noticed before even though I had driven the road many times. That section of highway was maintained by the Doodle Cooke family. I had been clueless. Doodle Cooke. Too good to be true.

The rest of the day continued to be a marvel of experiences. Going to three different Walmart locations in one day, eating at the BEST hamburger restaurant in the U.S. (or so they claim), bottle feeding Gwennie Ru in the parking lot of Trader Joe’s, seeing Felix’s new, bright fuschia, gym shoes, traveling in our 3 car caravan back to Riverbend Farm.

Is this really the best burger? It was good…
Gwennie Ru, enjoying her time at Hops Burger

Once I start taking notice with an attitude of being thankful, each day seems a bit more special, and definitely unique. It’s good to be here, no matter where I am.

P.S. I have started taking Heidi outside to graze on the green grass and clover. I think she likes it.