Category Archives: Bob

Out the window

The family that rented our farm started harvesting here last night.

Bob came out of his chair to see the lights moving through the dark field. Today his view was better.

Bob sat at our kitchen table and watched. He may not be farming, but farming is still a big part of the man he is.

Dump carts are used because they are lighter than big trucks. Big equipment gets stuck too easily. It’s not a usual farming year here in Wisconsin.

Bob watches as trucks of chopped corn go to farms in need of livestock feed.

Copyright 2019 by Susan Manzke, all rights reserved.

A two-tone car

Come ride down farm roads these days and you may end up with a two-tone car. I did.

Farm machinery is going in and out of wet fields, leaving trails of mud. It gets scraped off the roads as soon as the farmer can, but some recent mud is inevitable.

Take this as a warning. Harvesting this year is a bugger for farmers. They would rather not have the mud, but wet weather has made mudpies of many fields.

Lucky for me, my husband is fast with a power washer. Bob said he’d take care of the addition of mud to my car exterior.

It didn’t take much spraying to bring back the silver.

Thanks, Bob.

Copyright © 2019 Susan Manzke, All rights reserved

Fall yard work

Today, before the weather changes, Bob and I worked at digging up flower tubers.

The canna tubers were the hardest.

Canna plants before being chopped from their tubers.

I was given a few tubers a couple summers ago and boy, oh boy, do those multiply and grow! It’s a good thing we plant them on huge planters–old stock tanks. Those raised beds are better than being on hands and knees.

Bob did most of the digging with a fork. I was trying to knock the dirt off the ones he gave to me. We ended up covered in soil.

Tubers on a drying rack

All the stuff we moved will have to be moved again to put the cannas in a safe place for winter. Eventually the basement will be full of resting tubers, but not today.

Bob tired himself out today with all kinds of yard work.

Bob remembered his grandfather growing cannas in a rock garden in Illinois. I never saw one before I met Bob. It took me years to plant some of my own. I never liked the idea of having to dig them up each fall and replant them in the spring.

We have plenty to share. If you are nearby and want a few cannas of your own, just contact me and you can have a start on your spring planting.

Copyright © 2019 Susan Manzke, All rights reserved

Bob’s Home remedy

Bob was the first one to tell me about this clotting agent. Years ago he asked me to save the pepper packets from our fast food order. He wanted them for his toolbox.

Black pepper will stop bleeding when applied to an open cut.

Many mechanics, farmers, and others who work with tools may know this trick,

Black pepper is naturally antibacterial so that’s another positive for this helpful aid.

I do not recommend this for a large wound, but those pesky small bleeding cuts seem suitable, especially when working far from other help.

I’ve known Bob to wrap a dirty rag around a cut and continue working after cutting himself. It had to be something big to get him in the house for help–oh yeah, if a cut was bloody when he got inside to help he often fainted. He hasn’t fainted at the sight of blood in a long time, so maybe he’s outgrown it.

Google for additional informational pepper uses–I’m no doctor, but I thought I’d pass along Bob’s suggestion.

Copyright © 2019 Susan Manzke, All rights reserved

Grandpa’s truck

A while back I saw our son, Russ, taking his son to look at Grandpa Bob’s old farm truck.

I couldn’t figure out what they were doing. It wasn’t until later that I found out that Russ was giving Harrison an education.

Russ was showing the hand crank in the truck door that worked the window.

It was something Grandpa had that none of their cars had. The crank was very interesting to Harrison.

A man and his truck

I wonder what else we have around that would be considered ancient. I think that in the attic there’s a dial telephone that was attached to the wall by a cord. How in the world did we call on that phone without buttons?

Copyright © 2019 Susan Manzke, All rights reserved