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Livin’ On Country Time

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By Beth Watkins

Phone conversations between me and my country boy usually include: “When will you be home?” His answer is always, “Soon.” I’ve come to realize “soon” could mean anywhere from 30 minutes to just before dark.

City folks run their lives by clocks, calendars, and chirping apps. Out here, good old boys run on sun, seasons, and whether the tractor has oil pressure and air in the tires.

When I lived in town, I used to fuss over traffic – slow left-laners, backed-up intersections, endless red lights. Turns out, when you don’t deal with them daily, they lose their sting. These days, the only traffic backups are caused by people following hay equipment crawling down a county road. Listen up, people! We are barely moving – give your car a little gas and go around… bless your hearts.

We live where cows outnumber people, and one Saturday we rode our tractor to the little store for fuel. The only “traffic” we met was another John Deere doing the same thing.

Life may be slower, but I’ve found a new thorn in my side: procrastination. Unlike rush hour, it doesn’t come and go – it settles in like dust on a dirt road, in every nook and cranny. Out here, procrastination isn’t about laziness – it’s all strategy and timing.

In some homes, when something breaks, folks call a repairman. But in a country boy’s house, we fix it ourselves – eventually. If we can’t fix it, we don’t need it.

When approaching the subject of things left undone on the list, I try to handle it with mercy and grace. The Bible tells us in Proverbs 21:9, “It is better to live in a corner of the attic than in a house shared with a quarrelsome wife.” Wise words – no one wants to live with a nag. So, I carefully, artfully, and creatively steer my “honey” toward his to-do list. I have a plethora of “carrot on a stick” type incentives. Some work like a charm. All are great ideas, but when you have a husband who works all the time, some of them are marked NA – Not Available.

You want to know how deep procrastination runs out here? Let me paint you a picture. My cabbed rake tractor lost its right-side mirror to a low-hanging branch three summers ago. I wasn’t on duty that day, so when I asked about it, I was told it was on order and would be fixed “soon.”

This year, my tractor has an automatic quitting time built in. The light switch quit working, so dark-thirty means it’s time to head to the house. I swear I had nothing to do with it – the knob just came off in my hand.

The mower hasn’t had a cover since the last belt change. Belts fly off, and I suggested putting the cover back on so we wouldn’t have to walk the pasture looking for them. He shrugged and said he’d just have to take it off again anyway. Country logic: why secure what you’ll unscrew by lunchtime?

He keeps saying we’ll get a new mower once we get ahead – a phrase that means nothing in our operation because as soon as you fix one thing, something else decides to retire without notice.

My husband has been cutting and baling hay in a cabbed tractor with no air conditioning for the last three years. He even has the parts to fix it, somewhere in the back of his work truck. But instead of taking the time to fix the problem, he just shrugs and keeps right on baling – inside a rolling “green”house, where temperatures have reached a high of 116 degrees.

If you’re asking yourself, “Can’t he remove the doors and glass to get some air moving?” The answer is, “Absolutely, he can!” But then he risks being swarmed by bumble bees. You see, bumble bees build nests in the ground, and when you run over one in tall grass, they get real irritated. He’s had a bad experience before. Years ago, he ran over a nest in an open-cab tractor and ended up bailing off the side while it was moving. The bees chased that tractor all the way into the pond.

My country boy is tough because he never complains. I honestly don’t know how he does it. I hate being hot. And I know what you’re thinking – why don’t you start really early in the morning when it’s cooler? You can’t start until the morning dew has burned off. On the days when there is no dew, that means it’s been hot all night and it’s about to get hotter. I think his tractor sauna has warped his brain – somewhere between heatstroke and hay dust – because by dark, he’ll say, “It wasn’t that bad today.”

If you ask him why he hasn’t fixed the A/C, he’ll squint across the pasture and say something wise-sounding like, “Well, I was gonna… but then it was hay season.” As if that explains everything – and in a way, it does.

When we bought our new-ish work truck, it was really nice. A clean black mega-cab dually with a manual six-speed that had been deleted and tuned and ran like a scalded dog. But the truck has had more run-ins with deer than a game warden during rut season. The first deer collision messed up the grill. We replaced the grill and bought a chrome grill guard with a winch. That grill guard has been sitting on the garage floor for the past nine years. A few years ago, he blew a tire and took out a dually fender. The heater hasn’t worked in so long that his winter driving routine involves scraping ice off the inside of the windshield. It hasn’t seen a car wash in eight years. The side mirrors are great – they stick out far enough to keep an eye on the trailer but are broken from the last hailstorm that gave the whole truck a good beat-down. Oh, and the brakes only squeal some of the time. Last week, the A/C stopped working. The truck is a beast – and now looks like one too.

In our little slice of heaven, we have two main seasons: propane season and hay season. Propane really goes on all year; it’s just not as busy in the summer. Hay season falls somewhere in the summer, in a sweet spot that changes every year. After the rains stop, the weather has to warm up so the grass can grow. Fertilizer gets sprayed, followed by a little rain. While waiting for the hay meadows to dry and the grass to shoot up, it’s supposedly the perfect time to prepare all the mowing equipment for the season. But sometimes in Oklahoma, the weather shifts overnight and – bingo – it’s go time. Daylight’s a wastin’.

Meanwhile, some folks get antsy and bale too soon. Just the other day, we were loading last year’s hay from a location about thirty minutes from our place. I sat there, doing my job: holding my foot on the brake while the hay was loaded, and I watched in amazement as a guy across the road, in a brand-new tractor pulling a brand-new baler, made deep ruts in the mud and nearly got stuck every time he turned the corner to run over wet windrows, water pouring from his baler. An old timer driving down the road stopped to chat. He looked over to see why my expression looked so worried and said, “Reckon he’ll learn the hard way. He just moved here from California.”

When you bale wet grass, it molds on the inside and you also risk it catching fire when the temperatures rise. Bless his heart.

And finally – let’s not forget that front flower bed. As I’m typing this, my Romeo is outside with fifty bags of mulch, laying out plans. We built our home in 2016 and moved in that November. “Front flower bed” has been on his honey-do list since spring of 2017. Time is the hottest commodity here at The Cross Creek Cattle Company. So it is chosen wisely.

One thing I’ve noticed: if you’ve got a little land, you probably have nice, shiny equipment you wash before returning it to its tidy shed. But once you cross a certain acreage threshold, things start to change. Your “fleet” turns into a lineup of elderly machines held together by duct tape, faith, and the occasional bungee cord.

Every year, despite the weather being either too something – too wet, too dry, too hot, or too windy – we stumble our way through hay season, with every intention of having equipment in tip-top shape next year. I think maybe the thing that keeps us from fulfilling that dream is all the life interruptions that happen between the end of hay season and the beginning of propane season. But life always interrupts, and thank goodness it does. A life without interruptions would be boring – and might even soften a good man.

The Good Book says, “Do not worry about tomorrow, for today has enough trouble of its own.” That’s why here at the end of this dirt road, we don’t fix it till we need it.

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Country Lifestyle

Canning 101

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By NTFR Staff

It seems to happen every summer. The garden suddenly produces more tomatoes, cucumbers and green beans than anyone could possibly eat, and before long someone asks, “Maybe I should learn to can?”

For many families, canning is a tradition passed down for generations. For others, it’s a new hobby that offers the satisfaction of stocking pantry shelves with homegrown food. Either way, getting started can feel overwhelming. Pressure canners, boiling water baths, jars, lids, processing times and safety recommendations are enough to make anyone wonder where to begin.

Home canning isn’t difficult once you understand the basics.

Canning preserves food in sealed jars by heating them to destroy microorganisms and create a vacuum seal. The USDA approves only two methods for home canning: boiling water bath canning and pressure canning. Which one you use depends entirely on what you’re preserving.

A boiling water bath is exactly what it sounds like. You submerge filled jars completely in boiling water and process them for a specific amount of time. Because boiling water only reaches 212 degrees Fahrenheit at sea level, this method is safe only for foods that are naturally high in acid or have enough added acid to prevent dangerous bacteria from growing.

That makes water bath canning a good fit for jams, jellies, fruit preserves, pickles, chutneys, fruit butters and many tomato products that have the proper amount of bottled lemon juice or citric acid added according to a tested recipe.

Pressure canning works differently. A sealed canner traps steam, and the temperature climbs well above the boiling point of water to about 240 degrees Fahrenheit. That higher temperature is necessary to destroy Clostridium botulinum spores, which can survive ordinary boiling and produce the toxin that causes botulism.

Because of that, you must pressure can low-acid foods such as green beans, corn, carrots, potatoes, meats, poultry, seafood and soups. A boiling water bath isn’t safe for these foods, no matter how long you boil the jars.

For most beginners, water bath canning is the easiest place to start. The equipment costs less, the process is simpler and recipes like strawberry jam or dill pickles are forgiving enough to build confidence. Many people who enjoy preserving fruit eventually buy a pressure canner once they want to put up vegetables or homemade stock.

Pressure canning doesn’t need to be intimidating, either. Modern pressure canners include multiple built-in safety features and are far different from the exploding canners in the old stories many people heard decades ago. Like any kitchen tool, they’re safe when used according to the manufacturer’s directions and with tested recipes.

Whichever method you choose, one rule never changes: always use recipes that have been scientifically tested. Family recipes may taste wonderful fresh, but they aren’t always safe for canning. Changing ingredient amounts, thickening soups with flour, adding extra vegetables or reducing vinegar can all affect the safety of the finished product. The USDA and the National Center for Home Food Preservation remain the gold standards for home canning recipes and processing recommendations.

Today’s recommendations may also differ from the ones your grandparents followed. Research has improved over the years, and food safety guidance has changed with it. Methods like open-kettle canning, oven canning and sealing jars by turning them upside down are no longer considered safe for shelf-stable foods.

If you’ve never canned before, you don’t have to preserve an entire garden your first weekend. Start with one recipe. Learn how to prepare the jars, measure headspace, remove air bubbles and process them correctly. Once you hear that satisfying “ping” as the lids seal, you’ll understand why so many people find canning rewarding.

Opening a jar of peaches in January or serving homemade salsa long after the tomatoes are gone is a special kind of reward. With a little knowledge, the right equipment and a commitment to tested recipes, anyone can preserve the harvest safely for months to come.

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Country Lifestyle

The Price You Pay

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By Bryce Angell

My eyes are glued up to the shelf, a brand-new pair of Mucks. They’d be in my possession, but I lack the certain bucks.

I could go without my Pepsi for a month or maybe two. But the headache would be pounding like a freight train passin’ through.

I’ve got my Visa plastic for emergencies and such. The boots are kinda spendy. Do I really care that much?

I grab my precious cargo and I’m tingling to my roots. The clerk says, “Hundred eighty.” Must be gold in them there boots!

To purchase I can justify. It’s more than just a treat. No more sittin’ in the saddle with my cold and frozen feet.

I’ve waited days to wear them. Time to saddle up Ol’ Blue.

But my boots won’t fit the stirrups. What’s a broke cowboy to do?

The boots ain’t never goin’ back. I burned the dang receipt. My wife will never know the cost. Is that what’s called deceit?

The Co-Op might be open. I’ve seen stirrups there to buy. They close at 6:00 p.m. It’s 6:05 p.m. No use to even try.

I’ll drive out to the shoppin’ mall. They’ve got a western store. But their prices are extravagant, not for the country poor.

I’m riflin’ through the stirrups. Find a pair that fits my Mucks. I take ’em to the clerk. She says, “Two hundred twenty bucks.”

This time I cough and choke on down my Wrigley’s Spearmint chew. The clerk said, “Sure they’re spendy, but they’re made for guys like you.”

I wonder what she meant ’cuz I ain’t got the cash to spare. I swear she meant hi-rollers with their nose up in the air.

Still, I bought the brand-new stirrups with my plastic, once again.

Does it hurt to use my Visa card, every now and then?

The smuggish patrons, back in line, are giving me the stare.

They’re prob’ly thinkin’, “Poor cowboy.” I hurry out of there!

I’m addin’ up my purchases. Looks like four hundred bucks. And with the Gov’ner’s share I’m in the class of stupid clucks.

I burned the Visa card receipt, so that should take care of it from where I stand. I’m wonderin’ now if my warm feet are worth the half a grand?

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Country Lifestyle

Garden Water Woes

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By NTFR Staff

If you’ve spent any time on social media this summer, you’ve probably seen the debate. Some gardeners insist you should water only before sunrise. Others swear by evening watering. A few even claim watering during the heat of the day will burn your plants.

With temperatures climbing into the 90s and often higher in Oklahoma and North Texas, it’s easy to second-guess yourself when your tomato plants start drooping by lunchtime. Timing matters, but it’s only one part of keeping a garden healthy, and how you water can make a bigger difference than when.

For most gardens, early morning is the best time to water. Between about 5 and 9 a.m., temperatures are cooler, winds are usually lighter and less water evaporates. Plants have time to absorb moisture before the hottest part of the day, which helps them handle the afternoon heat. Any water that splashes onto the leaves also has time to dry, which reduces the chance of fungal diseases.

Not everyone has time to water before work or before the sun comes up. If evening is the only time that fits your schedule, don’t worry. A garden that gets a thorough watering in the evening is far better off than one left dry while you wait for the “perfect” time.

If you water late in the day, aim the water at the soil instead of spraying the foliage. Leaves that stay wet overnight can encourage certain plant diseases, especially when humidity is high.

Midday watering is fine, too, despite a long-standing gardening myth. Water droplets generally do not act like tiny magnifying glasses that scorch leaves, and research shows it isn’t a significant concern in home gardens. The drawback is efficiency. During the hottest part of the day, more water evaporates before it reaches the root zone. Still, if a plant is badly wilted and the soil is dry, don’t wait until evening. Watering right away beats letting the plant keep suffering from heat and drought stress.

Many gardeners make the mistake of watering on a schedule instead of checking the soil. Plants can wilt temporarily in extreme afternoon heat even when they have plenty of moisture underground.

Before reaching for the hose, push your finger a couple of inches into the soil. If it still feels cool and moist, your plants probably don’t need water yet. If it’s dry, give them a drink.

How you water matters as much as when. A slow, deep soaking encourages roots to grow farther into the soil, where moisture lasts longer. Frequent light watering keeps roots near the surface, which leaves plants more vulnerable in hot weather.

Soaker hoses and drip irrigation systems are excellent choices because they deliver water straight to the roots and lose very little to evaporation.

Mulch can become one of your best summer gardening tools. A two- to three-inch layer of shredded leaves, straw, untreated grass clippings or wood mulch keeps the soil cooler, slows evaporation and cuts down on weeds that compete for moisture. In many gardens, mulch can noticeably reduce how often you need to water.

Every garden is a little different. Soil type, plant varieties, sunlight, wind and rainfall all affect how fast moisture disappears. Sandy soils dry out faster than heavy clay, and containers often need water much more often than plants growing in the ground.

Pay attention to your garden instead of following a strict calendar. Check the soil regularly, water deeply when needed and don’t panic if your vegetables look a little tired during the hottest part of the afternoon. Many will perk right back up once temperatures fall.

Consistency matters more than perfection. Whether you water before sunrise or after supper, giving your plants the moisture they need and delivering it deep to the roots will help your garden stay healthier through the toughest days of summer.

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