The not-so-little slugger
Brandon and Mason have been playing the old "Slug Bug" game every time we have been on the road in the past few weeks.
Because boys think it's fun to hit.
One day last week, Mason was riding with just me instead. All of a sudden, he rears back and slugs me in the arm.
"Slug bug!"
"Hey," I protest, "You're not supposed to hit girls!"
"But you're not a girl, Katie, you're a laaa-dy."
For a second, I felt quite distinguished he would give me such a title. Then I thought about it some more.
"Then you're especially not supposed to hit ladies, Mason."
"Well, you're not a lady then. You're just my sister."
Later that evening when we were all home, Brandon and Mason were wrestling around. Which is no big deal these days. In fact, it's been pretty much an every-three-hour occurrence since Mason got here.
I was two rooms away, and just overheard Mason's laughter, broken every few seconds by Brandon saying, "Wow, you're strong ... You're really strong ... Whoa boy, you're strong ... Okay, that's enough ..."
Not surprising, since we found out last night that going into the eighth grade, Mason already weighs as much as Brandon did at high school graduation.
Because boys think it's fun to hit.
One day last week, Mason was riding with just me instead. All of a sudden, he rears back and slugs me in the arm.
"Slug bug!"
"Hey," I protest, "You're not supposed to hit girls!"
"But you're not a girl, Katie, you're a laaa-dy."
For a second, I felt quite distinguished he would give me such a title. Then I thought about it some more.
"Then you're especially not supposed to hit ladies, Mason."
"Well, you're not a lady then. You're just my sister."
Later that evening when we were all home, Brandon and Mason were wrestling around. Which is no big deal these days. In fact, it's been pretty much an every-three-hour occurrence since Mason got here.
I was two rooms away, and just overheard Mason's laughter, broken every few seconds by Brandon saying, "Wow, you're strong ... You're really strong ... Whoa boy, you're strong ... Okay, that's enough ..."
Not surprising, since we found out last night that going into the eighth grade, Mason already weighs as much as Brandon did at high school graduation.
Teenager in the house
Brandon and I invited Mason to spend one month of his summer with us. So far, there are several things we have learned with a teenager in the house.
He has extended our vocabulary. We have been exposed to words like "y'allselves" and "responsibleness". He calls it his "Texas word choice," and tells us not to make fun of it. We're not sure what to call it, and we still make fun of it.
We found out fourteen-year-old boys eat twice as much as two adults combined. Or this one does anyway. By day three, we quit even asking him if he was hungry. He's always hungry. The night we had spaghetti, Brandon and Mason both filled a large dinner plate with pasta, which equaled two or three of my servings. Then Mason went back for seconds. When he came back to the table, we couldn't even speak. We just looked at each other with wide eyes and dropped jaws. So much for our fridge full of leftovers.
Apparently, only Rated R movies are cool. He refuses to watch Shrek 2, which Brandon and I both like. Instead, he has watched 40 Year Old Virgin, Wedding Crashers, Talladega Nights and The Sweetest Thing. Sorry Mom, but he said he'd already seen them anyway.
Mason has learned a few things about being with us in Arizona as well.
Don't drink the irrigation water. The day we were out shoveling, I caught Mason scooping water up from a row into his mouth. I sent Brandon a message about what he was doing. Brandon replied "Not a good idea. 10 percent sewage." My phone was in Mason's pocket when the message came through. I just looked up and saw him spitting and wiping his tongue with his shirt.
Water is a precious commodity. At our house, anyway. Since we have to fill our water jugs at Brandon's parents' house, we do not empty water containers from work at the end of the day. You just add a little bit of fresh water in the morning and continue drinking it.
Actually, most things are precious commodities. I make him save his ziploc sandwich bags to reuse the next day too.
Sleep any time you get the opportunity. We have pretty crazy schedules, from overnight irrigating to pre-dawn hay work. He has caught on and no longer thinks naps are for lazy people.
Boys can wear lotion. He started asking me for it the second day he was here. He came to me and said, "Katie, look at my arms. They're gray. And the skin is coming off. It's so dry." He has lotioned up every day since.
At least we're all having a well-rounded learning experience.
He has extended our vocabulary. We have been exposed to words like "y'allselves" and "responsibleness". He calls it his "Texas word choice," and tells us not to make fun of it. We're not sure what to call it, and we still make fun of it.
We found out fourteen-year-old boys eat twice as much as two adults combined. Or this one does anyway. By day three, we quit even asking him if he was hungry. He's always hungry. The night we had spaghetti, Brandon and Mason both filled a large dinner plate with pasta, which equaled two or three of my servings. Then Mason went back for seconds. When he came back to the table, we couldn't even speak. We just looked at each other with wide eyes and dropped jaws. So much for our fridge full of leftovers.
Apparently, only Rated R movies are cool. He refuses to watch Shrek 2, which Brandon and I both like. Instead, he has watched 40 Year Old Virgin, Wedding Crashers, Talladega Nights and The Sweetest Thing. Sorry Mom, but he said he'd already seen them anyway.
Mason has learned a few things about being with us in Arizona as well.
Don't drink the irrigation water. The day we were out shoveling, I caught Mason scooping water up from a row into his mouth. I sent Brandon a message about what he was doing. Brandon replied "Not a good idea. 10 percent sewage." My phone was in Mason's pocket when the message came through. I just looked up and saw him spitting and wiping his tongue with his shirt.
Water is a precious commodity. At our house, anyway. Since we have to fill our water jugs at Brandon's parents' house, we do not empty water containers from work at the end of the day. You just add a little bit of fresh water in the morning and continue drinking it.
Actually, most things are precious commodities. I make him save his ziploc sandwich bags to reuse the next day too.
Sleep any time you get the opportunity. We have pretty crazy schedules, from overnight irrigating to pre-dawn hay work. He has caught on and no longer thinks naps are for lazy people.
Boys can wear lotion. He started asking me for it the second day he was here. He came to me and said, "Katie, look at my arms. They're gray. And the skin is coming off. It's so dry." He has lotioned up every day since.
At least we're all having a well-rounded learning experience.
Thanks for the welcome back, Arizona
Well, it has been just more than one week since I returned from my Texas vacation, and what a welcome back Arizona decided to give me.
To begin, less than one hour after I landed back in the desert, I blew out a tire on our irrigation truck on my way to pick Brandon up from home. I was picking him up because he had no vehicle there, and needed to retrieve another tractor from his parents'. Thus, I had to walk to our house in the sweltering 110 degree temperatures, and he had to walk to the truck to fix the tire.
The very next day, I was taking the irrigation truck to the grocery store at 7am. I didn't make it more than one-eighth of a mile before the spare tire Brandon installed went flat on me. Like completely sitting on the ground flat.
On the third day of my return, Mason and I had been out in a field shoveling rows all afternoon. Brandon called to tell me to make our way to the ditch, we were finally calling it a day and going home. When I arrived at the irrigation ditch, my phone fumbled around in my hand, and fell in. I had to jump in after it, and found it just a couple minutes later at the bottom. Luckily, it only had to dry out for two days, and is now back in working order.
Tuesday, Mason and I were in charge of watering the sorghum rows. We had to do a lot of driving around the field, so I thought it was a perfect place for him to get some more driving practice. And he loves to drive, so he was more than happy to shuttle me around for the day. As we approached the end of the field, I told him to turn around. I was refilling our water jug and not paying much attention to where he was going. He had three field roads he could use to turn my little truck around. Instead, he chose the muddy corner of an adjoining field. And we got stuck. Mason was able to use the backhoe we had out there to get me out with fairly little effort, so that was nice.
Two days later, I arrive at one of our alfalfa fields to change water just before 4am. I find the water is not ready to be changed. As I make my way to the ditch at the upper end, I notice the water level is quite low. Sure enough, at the other end of the field, there is a giant whole where the ditch was completely washed away. My first response? I called Brandon and just started hollering, "I need you, I need you, I need you! Big mess! Ahhhh!" into the phone. Then, I had to move a huge metal check nearly as big as I am (or it feels like it, anyway) to a spot in the ditch in front of the hole, and leave it for Brandon and Mason to fix later.
On Friday, I found a swarm of bees in our backyard. Brandon was out of town for the day. I snapped a picture and sent it to him. He said they would move, and he would take care of them if they didn't. Well, they ended up moving alright. To right above our front porch swing. They're still there.
I had to watch water in the field across from our house the following day. That afternoon, I was checking it on the four wheeler when a bug flew in my ear. For the rest of the day, I could feel it fluttering and hear it buzzing in there. I would scream and shake my head to the side every time it happened, which was probably quite comical for anyone who might have been watching. I never felt it yesterday, but I also never noticed it coming out, so I'm pretty sure there's a dead bug in my ear.
And what did we wake up to yesterday morning? Birds chirping. Loudly. Less than ten feet from our bed. I guess another one nested in our master bathroom.
So thanks, Arizona. I'm glad to be back.
Recap
Day 1: blowout
Day 2: flat
Day 3: phone in ditch
Day 4: truck stuck
Day 6: ditch blown out
Day 7: bee invasion
Day 8: bug in ear
Day 9: birds return to the bathroom
To begin, less than one hour after I landed back in the desert, I blew out a tire on our irrigation truck on my way to pick Brandon up from home. I was picking him up because he had no vehicle there, and needed to retrieve another tractor from his parents'. Thus, I had to walk to our house in the sweltering 110 degree temperatures, and he had to walk to the truck to fix the tire.
The very next day, I was taking the irrigation truck to the grocery store at 7am. I didn't make it more than one-eighth of a mile before the spare tire Brandon installed went flat on me. Like completely sitting on the ground flat.
On the third day of my return, Mason and I had been out in a field shoveling rows all afternoon. Brandon called to tell me to make our way to the ditch, we were finally calling it a day and going home. When I arrived at the irrigation ditch, my phone fumbled around in my hand, and fell in. I had to jump in after it, and found it just a couple minutes later at the bottom. Luckily, it only had to dry out for two days, and is now back in working order.
Tuesday, Mason and I were in charge of watering the sorghum rows. We had to do a lot of driving around the field, so I thought it was a perfect place for him to get some more driving practice. And he loves to drive, so he was more than happy to shuttle me around for the day. As we approached the end of the field, I told him to turn around. I was refilling our water jug and not paying much attention to where he was going. He had three field roads he could use to turn my little truck around. Instead, he chose the muddy corner of an adjoining field. And we got stuck. Mason was able to use the backhoe we had out there to get me out with fairly little effort, so that was nice.
Two days later, I arrive at one of our alfalfa fields to change water just before 4am. I find the water is not ready to be changed. As I make my way to the ditch at the upper end, I notice the water level is quite low. Sure enough, at the other end of the field, there is a giant whole where the ditch was completely washed away. My first response? I called Brandon and just started hollering, "I need you, I need you, I need you! Big mess! Ahhhh!" into the phone. Then, I had to move a huge metal check nearly as big as I am (or it feels like it, anyway) to a spot in the ditch in front of the hole, and leave it for Brandon and Mason to fix later.
On Friday, I found a swarm of bees in our backyard. Brandon was out of town for the day. I snapped a picture and sent it to him. He said they would move, and he would take care of them if they didn't. Well, they ended up moving alright. To right above our front porch swing. They're still there.
I had to watch water in the field across from our house the following day. That afternoon, I was checking it on the four wheeler when a bug flew in my ear. For the rest of the day, I could feel it fluttering and hear it buzzing in there. I would scream and shake my head to the side every time it happened, which was probably quite comical for anyone who might have been watching. I never felt it yesterday, but I also never noticed it coming out, so I'm pretty sure there's a dead bug in my ear.
And what did we wake up to yesterday morning? Birds chirping. Loudly. Less than ten feet from our bed. I guess another one nested in our master bathroom.
So thanks, Arizona. I'm glad to be back.
Recap
Day 1: blowout
Day 2: flat
Day 3: phone in ditch
Day 4: truck stuck
Day 6: ditch blown out
Day 7: bee invasion
Day 8: bug in ear
Day 9: birds return to the bathroom
Our new hay field
I finally mowed the front yard a couple days before leaving for Texas (the second time). A baler would have been more appropriate.
It was already approaching the needing-to-be-mowed stage, then it got irrigated twice before Brandon and I left for the weekend. We already had some irrigation water scheduled, and the neighbor ended up with some extra water he let us have.
Then the yard was still too wet and muddy to mow before our Texas road trip. So we left it.
When we returned last Monday evening, both of us dropped our jaws at what we saw. And then we were so busy with farming duties I couldn't get to it for a couple days after that. I just about had to walk out of our house with my eyes closed.
When I finally did get to mowing, it took a full two hours. It usually only takes one. This was the difference:
I found out later the reason our yard got so tall so fast is because half of it is giant bermuda, rather than the common bermuda in most yards.
Brandon first planted the yard in the common bermuda, but he had giant bermuda growing behind the barn. When he irrigated after cutting the giant bermuda, a lot of the clippings traveled downstream. Therefore, we now have a bermuda mix in our yard.
We were pretty embarrassed about the whole situation. We take a lot of pride in how things look around the house, so we weren't happy we let our grass grow to eight inches. But I'm just thankful we have a green yard to mow again.
It was already approaching the needing-to-be-mowed stage, then it got irrigated twice before Brandon and I left for the weekend. We already had some irrigation water scheduled, and the neighbor ended up with some extra water he let us have.
Then the yard was still too wet and muddy to mow before our Texas road trip. So we left it.
When we returned last Monday evening, both of us dropped our jaws at what we saw. And then we were so busy with farming duties I couldn't get to it for a couple days after that. I just about had to walk out of our house with my eyes closed.
When I finally did get to mowing, it took a full two hours. It usually only takes one. This was the difference:
I found out later the reason our yard got so tall so fast is because half of it is giant bermuda, rather than the common bermuda in most yards.Brandon first planted the yard in the common bermuda, but he had giant bermuda growing behind the barn. When he irrigated after cutting the giant bermuda, a lot of the clippings traveled downstream. Therefore, we now have a bermuda mix in our yard.
We were pretty embarrassed about the whole situation. We take a lot of pride in how things look around the house, so we weren't happy we let our grass grow to eight inches. But I'm just thankful we have a green yard to mow again.
My first experience with the GPS
I started planting some Teff grass seed Wednesday and had to use the GPS system for accuracy. With all the swerves I made trying to find the "0" error before I turned it on at each pass, I'm not sure how much more accurate my planting will actually be.
It was rough getting started. Brandon drove the first couple of rounds to demonstrate, then left me out in the field to figure it out for myself.
Now, working the actual GPS system itself was not difficult. I have a decent handle on technology and figured out the mechanical aspects of using it just fine.
It was when I combined it with turning the tractor, matching it up to the line on the GPS, and lifting and lowering the planter all at the same time, that I had trouble.
I get rather frustrated when I can't complete a task close to perfect in a short while, so I was about at my wit's end with this thing by the time I reached the second border.
I sent Brandon text messages that read:
"I stink at this."
"I am not doing a good job."
"I do not like the gps."
"I want to turn this thing off."
After that little string, spread across a 15 minute span, Brandon returned to the field to try to help.
"Katie, this thing is supposed to make your life easier. You can read a magazine while you go up the field. I mean, obviously you're not having any trouble text messaging."
"Well yeah, but that's after I get to the middle of the field and get it on track, after there's a perfect zig-zag for the first 50 yards."
So he rode with me another couple rounds "to see what was going wrong," but pretty much took control, said "looks fine to me," and left.
So for the next two hours, I did the best I could, and sent Brandon another message that said, "I am quitting," at 7:30. And I did. I was out of seed anyway.
Luckily, yesterday's experience with the GPS was much better. I got in a groove with all the levers, got a better idea of where the track line would be before I even started turning, and was actually able to sit back, relax, listen to the radio, and send more text messages while the GPS steered me down the field.
So, we'll see how things look when the grass starts coming up.
A weekend in West Texas
In lieu of Father's Day, my birthday, and the last three-day break Brandon will have until January, we had the bright idea to drive to West Texas and meet my parents at their new deer lease over the weekend.
Something we will never do again. The driving part, anyway. It ended up being a 900 mile trip. One way.
They make modern conveniences like Google Maps, MapQuest, etc., for a reason. Brandon never checked it. I pulled up Google Maps once, but I only look at the travel time, not the miles. And never believe the travel time, by the way. He has decided he will take over the map duties from now on.
We had several conversations during the 15 hour plus drive about "whose idea this was anyway."
The barren expanse of West Texas almost did us in. Somewhere between El Paso and Fort Stockton while trying to find our location on the map, I said, "You never know where you are out here because there's really nowhere to be."
Brandon said, "Wow. That was a deep thought. I think we should get you out of the car."
In the last year or so, I've started having trouble with car sickness for the first time in my life. Several hours from our destination, Brandon asked, "Hey, how come you never got car sick today?"
I replied, "I don't know, maybe because we're in Texas."
Seemed logical to me.
As we approached Junction, Texas, the highway was wet and there dark clouds looming above us.
After a very long day, I was simply trying to make conversation (we had pretty well covered any important topics at this point), so I made an observation: "I think it rained here."
Brandon: "No, the street sweepers just came through and hosed it down for us."
Luckily for both our sanity, we were only an hour from the deer lease at that point.
We did have a great 30 hours with my family. Brandon worked with Mason on shooting his bow, and they went calling, where Mason thought a raccoon was going to eat him. We made a trip to the local swimming hole, and drove the perimeter of the new place to check things out.
We saw plenty of deer, including a couple exotics, so the 2009 hunting season looks good for the Boyer-Burk bunch.
Somehow, I only ended up with one picture for the entire weekend:
While we were driving around, a whole mess of barb wire got tangled around the axle. It took all the men under the truck to get us going again.
Just another Boyer vacation: hurry to get there, hurry to leave, at least one inconvenience while you're there.
And a lesson for Brandon and Katie: fly to Texas.
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