Then there were seven!

soaking up lap time after supper & story telling

The cat that adopted our farm greeted us last night with a half eaten mouse.  I was impressed.  My daughter was grossed out.  I was impressed because she is feeding six little ones and can use the extra protein.  Yes, I said SIX!

The story of Farm Cat began before harvest in June.  My son was at the farm by himself and heard insistent meowing.  Here comes this scrawny loud friendly cat.  He shared his beef stick with her and scratched her bony back.  A couple of days later we all went out to get things ready for harvest.  (There is no house on our farm - just machinery & storage buildings.) She was still there, still friendly and still skin and bones - literally.  It was like petting fur-covered bones.  Lucky for her, she showed up at the best time of year.  Harvest started and we were out there every day with scraps.  By early July she had taken over the place, so we got her a flea collar and started leaving cat food in her tree.  As the bony edges softened, I pondered taking her to the vet to be spayed.  Ponder, ponder.  We also started searching for a home.  My husband is somewhat allergic to cats and we didn't want to worry about her out there in cold weather.  We found a willing friend in mid August, but didn't make plans to move her right away.  A week after we talked to him, I noticed her tummy was a little big and soon after that it was really big - way too big to just be full of food.  Dang!  Deviously, I wished we had moved her right away!

So, over the next few weeks her tummy grew . . . and grew.  Last week, while the guys were loading seed wheat, I sat in the back of the pickup with a very lumpy purring cat on my lap.  You could easily see the little dudes in there wiggling around.  Hmm - looks like she's probably going to have four.  I thought that seemed like a lot for our little cat.  The next day she didn't show up.  And then the next day, after some loud weird meowing calls from my husband, she comes walking from behind a covered cow/horse trailer.  And . . . she was thin!  We thought the trailer sides were too high for her.  We were wrong.  I looked in through the shoulder high openings and there in the straw was a pile of multicolored fur.  I opened the side door and took a quick count - four, no FIVE . . . NO SIX!  I yelled "That darn cat had SIX KITTENS!"  My husband's response was "Stupid cat!"  He really does like cats, but now we had to find homes for a few more than we expected.  Sigh.

As we looked around the trailer, we realized she must have been using it as a safe spot for longer than a few days.  If you're squeamish, skip the next sentence.  There were rabbit feet and bits of fur scattered about the trailer.  It turns out she is a good hunter and found the perfect place to eat in peace.  Now it's home to seven.  And right now pretty much all that goes on in there is sleeping and nursing - lots and lots and lots of nursing.

a circle of fur and purr

With a little family now, I've been contemplating names.  We hadn't actually named Farm Cat.  We were going to let her new owner do that, but what the heck.  I'm thinking either Unsinkable Molly Brown or Edna.  The kittens are all tabbies -  three dark, two grey and one ginger.  I have dubbed the next few weeks What Shall We Name Them Days.  So far - for the dark trio: Larry, Curly & Mo; Crosby, Stills & Nash; or Winkin', Blinkin' & Nod.  The grey duo: Woofer & Tweeter; Abbot & Costello; or Caeser & Brutus.  The ginger cat will NOT be Ginger.  I'm thinking either Honeybuns, Sugarpie or Macaroni.  I haven't checked the boy/girl status, so that may influence the name game.  In the meantime, we'll just keep cuddling them and taking pictures.

Muddy Roads and Clean Wheat

I should be driving a pickup right now.  It rained, so I’m not.  Weather dictates schedule most of the time in farming world.  My scheduled farmerwife job for the day was to drive 40 miles and pick up my men.  By the way, I’m officially changing my title from farmwife to farmerwife thanks to my daughter (see July 9 post).  Spell check won’t recognize it, but isn’t that how all new words start out?  Anyway - Last night a storm rolled through and left 4 inches in the farm rain gauge.  That makes driving two heavy trucks, one filled with wheat, out of a dirt (mud) farmyard and on country roads more challenging.  Trip postponed - no ride home needed.

tractor not pulling the drill

You might be pondering why the wheat was going somewhere else or you may not care one bit.  Doesn’t matter, I’m telling anyway.  In the fall, a week or two before drilling season, the seed wheat needs cleaned.  Now you’re wondering what we’re drilling for.  Well, it’s not oil (unfortunately) or water.  That’s what planting wheat is called.  No, you cannot actually say "planting".  That brings dirty looks from lifelong wheat farmers.  They will promptly correct you and may consider you a bit of an idiot if they’ve had to explain it before.  Drilling involves pulling an implement called a drill (of all things) behind a tractor.  The drill makes thin ditches, the seed wheat falls into the ditches through tubes connected to a grain box and then is covered up by another part of the drilling implement.  I’ve never fully understood why we can’t call that planting, but I like a happy husband so I don’t ask anymore.  Now he's saying something about planting being more precise than drilling - okay fine.

Back to the business of cleaning wheat.  (Yay!)  There are no detergents or Merry Maids involved.  The wheat has to be cleaned to get out the bad stuff such as shriveled or broken grains, bug bits, evil weed seeds, dirt and other undesirables.  Naturally, this is not done by hand.  Small farmers, well tall farmers too I suppose, especially those on family farms, generally take their wheat to a grain cleaning facility at an elevator (grain elevator – not up & down type – then again…it moves the grain up at times and down at times, I guess that works too, but I digress…again.)  That sentence was entirely too long.  Apologies.  My fact checking husband notes there are traveling grain cleaners – large contraptions on semi trailers - that will clean wheat at your farm.  There.  He’s happy now.

our classic (old) wheat hauling truck

I started out intending to relay the various “jobs” this farmerwife winds up with.  Obviously I lost my way.  We’ll save that for another day.  Lord knows I need more ideas as it’s taken me almost two months to write again.

Happy seed wheat cleaning time!