A TIME TO PLANT AND A TIME TO HARVEST

When we started traveling back and forth from home to camp in April,

 …the fields and the mountains looked like this.

 But the farmers, the ones who put food on our tables, quickly went to work to get seed in their ground with an eye for a big crop return in the fall.

 A week ago the field by this farm looked like this.

 Now the hay field looks like the head of a new Marine and there’s another stack of bales next to the barn.

 Here’s another hay field getting a haircut.  Note the grain field in the background ready to be threshed.  Sometimes in farming, like so many things in life, everything all seems to need attention at the same time.

 Not far down the road we saw a big red combine just finishing a trip around a wheat field.  It was heading for the waiting truck.

 Another load of grain to be hauled off to the silo.

 Nearby was a farmer and his dog.  Cell phones make life a little easier, but I still bet the cook has to often keep dinner in the oven until there’s a break in the work or until it’s just too late to continue.

 When the grain is gone the stubble is baled up into straw.

 More big bales of straw. Straw is used for livestock bedding and fodder.  It’s also good mulch for gardens.  Around here the big bales are sometimes used to make a straw maze.  People come to lose themselves in the labyrinth of paths and tunnels which are often haunted by spooky characters.

 Just in front of the field of straw you can see a potato field which has been stripped of its vines.

 Not long ago the spud fields were covered with lush green plants.

 Now they’re being treated and cleared.  Next step is digging those Idaho potatoes.  There’s a LOT of work to be done if the guys are going to get some free time to go hunting in a few weeks.

THE LAST CAMPERS OF 2015

August is ending.  The skies are still blue and the air is still warm, but school will be starting soon and summer camp is over.

 All the singing, giggling, shouting and cheering has stopped.

 The last campers have finished their stay at camp.

 They are packing up their sleeping bags, sun screen and swimming suits.

 They’ve cleaned the lodge, mopped and scrubbed the restroom, and are finishing up cleaning their cabins.

 Now it’s time to haul their stuff to the waiting cars and trailers.

 There are dads and other friends to help load the gear for the long ride home.

 The big field is quiet again.

 Except for that hum of DH’s four-wheeler zooming across the lawn.  Now we’ll spend the rest of our time here preparing the place for the long, deep winter.

SEVENTY POINT THREE MILES THE HARD WAY

Every now and then some of our children and one of their spouses get together with a bunch of like-minded weirdos to swim, bike and run in circles for hours.  I know!  I promise I didn’t drop them on their heads, and we tried to teach them a little common sense, but there you go.

This time Bobert challenged his wife, Greasy Lightning and his brother, Beavis to compete in a half ironman event in Utah.  This means swimming for 1.2 miles, biking for 56 and then, and THEN, running for 13.1 miles.

 They’ve been training since January and August 22 was the big day.

DH and I went along to act as cheering section and photographers.   To make our job extra difficult, they all dressed in black with red caps.

Not just our kids, NO---EVERYBODY in the swimming part of race dressed in black with red caps.  This makes Find Waldo seem like a piece of cake.  By the way, all three of them are in this photo.  I found them.  Trust me.

 Here’s a hint.  The one in the water with his hands raised is Beavis.

 They took off swimming by age group and gender, stirring the swampy water of Utah Lake into a froth.

 At the middle of the swim the water became a bog and then a shallow quagmire.  A lot of the racers gave up swimming and waded.  Everyone agreed this was the most gross triathlon swim in their experience.

 The racing committee should have read the sign.

Still our champions completed the ordeal…

 …and hurried off to their bikes.

With a goofy face for the camera pause.

 Smile, Beavis.

  

Can you say, “Eeew. That water was revolting,” with a grin?

 In a matter of a few seconds they transitioned to bike gear.

And were ready to ride.  Bobert was long gone before either DH or I could make it to the bicycle area.

 Beavis left right behind him, but was the first one to come back from the 56 mile ride

.

 Then Greasy Lightning shot by to change into her running shoes.

 When Beavis ran by I yelled, “Where’s Bobert?”  The answer.  “He had three flat tires.”

 Greasy Lightning hurried by, but still no Bobert on a bike.

 Finally he rode by on his way to the transition area.

 In spite of the misfortunes with his bike, he still ran by with thumbs up.  “I’m just gonna finish.”

 The run was two six and a half mile laps in what was becoming a very hot afternoon.  Even with two thirds of the grueling race under his belt, Bobert pushed through to make up lost time.

But he couldn’t catch up with Beavis who did the whole 70.3 mile distance in just a little over five hours.

 Bobert came in not long after.

 Greasy Lightning was slowed down by an injury to her right shoulder she got in a bike wreck earlier in the month.

 Still, she finished in just over six hours.  Bobert was waiting for her at the finish line with open arms.

 We’re SO proud of their accomplishments.  But we still think they’re weird.