Buzzing Beehive

I checked the calendar that hangs in the bathroom.

Yep, it is still January, named after the roman god, Janus, god of beginnings and transitions.

January is a month for resolutions.

It is a month for taking down the Christmas tree, tossing worn socks and calculating taxes.

January is not a month to work on jobs outside.

At the ranch, feeding, checking the water and watching the cows and ewes develop bowling ball bellies are the full extent of my expectations for January outdoor fun.

Yet, last week was a buzzing beehive of activity around here.

The trough in the upper corral now runs water when it is supposed to and stops when it is not. The cave I dug last summer that reached down under the concrete pad is filled in.

Hauling dirt out of the cave bucket by bucket was tedious and boring, but the faulty valve was under the pad.

My dirt-digging friend chastised me about the danger of undermining the foundation of a concrete pad, worried that the remaining dirt could slough off and I would be smashed under concrete.

He had a good point.

He fixed the valve.

The muddy dip surrounding the iced-up culvert where I buried the tractor last spring has a new, larger culvert and three loads of gravel.

Watching the tractor sink to its frame into sticky gumbo wasn’t boring last February.

Gathering wood blocks and posts to shove under the slick wheels as snow blew down my neck wasn’t boring.

Listening to the hungry cows bawl for breakfast wasn’t boring.

With reliable access to the other side of the creek, I’ll seek adventure elsewhere.

The windows for the house that I ordered last September are no longer sitting in the building supply warehouse.

Instead, most of them are installed.

It was so much easier to replace those windows than wash them.

But I’m not sure what I’ll do now that I don’t feel a nice, fresh breeze when I watch the sunrise.

Huge manure piles have been building for several years, hugging the corrals and barn.

Last week, they scattered across the alfalfa field with a new duty assignment.

The manure spreader guy estimated that all of the piles would only cover about 50 acres.

I’m comforted by knowing I have a steady supply of hay converters to feed the rest of my alfalfa.

With reliable water in the upper corral, I could hold cattle for a few days so my brother, Roger, and I sorted the replacement heifers from the herd.

I needed a few to be open so I could fill beef orders. We hauled a load of suspects to the vet for good news-bad news time.

Only one was open.

The chilly forecast moved the John Deere 4020 that I left in the alfalfa field 18 months ago to the top of my priority list.

The 4020 has a cab.

I have been gathering advice and opinions about that tractor.

Some diagnose a worn-out hydraulic pump, or maybe a clogged interior filter.

Or possibly both.

 Many people strongly suggest I just buy a new one.

Roger and I carried a battery to the tractor and smiled when it started right away.

But hydraulics control both the transmission and the loader.

Neither budged.

I called my mechanic friend.

“Lisa, this will be a lot easier to work on in my heated shop,” Ron said. “I’m bringing my winch and trailer.”

The sun was setting as Ron and I maneuvered the tractor up on to his trailer.

The red sky lit up our smiles.

All of these projects were on my list of fall jobs. I just didn’t expect to get them done this winter.

January might be a month for resolutions, but this was a week for action.