The season I am talking about is the Harvest. I know I mentioned this in my last post, but this goes much more into detail. The girls at swimming this week we asking me if Peadar was done planting potatoes. I corrected them saying, no "harvest is about cutting the wheat (also known as 'drawing corn') and then gathering straw, planting more wheat, then digging the potatoes. Potatoes don't get planted until spring."
The looks I got were priceless. Ask me to explain that a year ago and I would have laughed. So harvest is here, and Peadar leaves before I wake up in the morning and I'm often asleep before he gets home. He is working so hard to get everything done while the weather is good, because when it's bad, well, you'll see below.
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| Peadar, his "harvest beard", and his nephew Joseph in the tractor |
There is a condition going around the farm right now, something I like to refer to as "harvest beard" which is caused by having no time to shave. Stop by The Yard, which is home to all the machinery and grain stores on the farm, and you well see plenty of "harvest beards" walking around the place.
Have you ever been lucky enough to play Giant Jenga at a bar? (It's a great time).
Well Peadar and his colleagues (farmer pals? co-workers?) fellow crew members play Gargantuan Jenga every day with straw bales. Remember when I mentioned how poor weather can make things go very badly on the farm? Well check out what the rain did to these bales of straw. It caused them to get wet and heavy and eventually the whole mess toppled like Jericho.
A whole morning's work, ruined. But straw stacker extraordinaire Daithi (pronounced dah-hee) was able to make it right again. He is Peadar's cousin and also works on the farm.
On Saturday, I decided it would be nice to see my boyfriend in the daylight, so I went and joined him on the tractor for a few rounds. Check out the video below:
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| Heavy Machinery Action |
Gorgeous shot of some straw that has not been bailed yet. The Irish countryside is one of the most beautiful places on earth.
This machine is a bale-chaser. It collects bales (8 at a time) like in the video above.
Those of you who know anything about farming are probably wondering where the picture of the sweet machines, the harvesters, are. Well Pad was on straw duty the day I joined him in the fields, so that is why I am focusing on this part of the action.
Giant shed full of grain.
I can't believe I am actually putting a picture of this in my blog, but another part of the harvest season means the critters, aka: effing spiders, are out in force looking for warm and dry places to shack up. And unfortunately, they have decided that every entrance way into my building should be infested. I am a Stage 5 arachnophobe, and the thing about us, is that we actually like to feed our fear. Like when I Google Iraqi Camel Spiders. For example, Peadar called me to warn me not to go out the particular entrance this guy was chilling at, and what do I do? Go and take a picture of him and have nightmares for weeks!
We even found one inside our apartment, which made me have a panic attack. And several times I have not been able to actually enter our building until Peadar comes down with a golf club and kills a few. I just stand there crying until he gives me the all clear. Peadar, and Google, assure me that there are no poisonous spiders in Ireland. However, just the fact that these are called "Wolf Spiders" makes me want to die.
Lastly, I was hanging out a Peadar's house over the weekend when a crane/stork wandered into the yard, causing the dogs to go ballistic. Eddie (Peadar's Dad, pictured above) caught the birdie before any damage was done, and walked him up the lane way to marshier ground. I actually think Brandy (their Irish Setter) was scared of the bird, but Max (the well-trained chocolate lab) would have gone in for the kill. So genius that I am, decide to take the dogs for a walk not too long after this happened. Can you just imagine the dogs finding the bird, the bird pecking at them with his beak, me fighting the dogs off with the stick yelling "you do not hurt the birdie?" Well, yes, that happened. And in case you were wondering, the bird lived.
I think.
I hope.
Love,
Amanda
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