Home from Kansas and glad about it. These windmills are HUGE. Taller then a football field is long and the blades travel at 200 mph at the tips. Way out in the Flint Hills they are magnificent. With the wind blowing across the plains the air is steady, much like the ocean breezes on the coast of New England. The mills make a soft sound, like waves, until you are right up under one of them. Then you can hear distinct sounds unique to each one. I thought I heard the call of a hawk, but it turned out to be one of the windmills.
Now home there are some treats. Green Top Market has just opened up in the old Morristown Corners Store. Green Top is the farm that has my former flock and they have done a terrific job with the Market.
Best selection of meat around with fresh local lamb at $5.99 a pound. ( About a $4.00 difference then at the supermarket, no joke. ) Also, there are pastries, local cheeses, Elmore Mt. Bread, Pete’s Greens, and good coffee. ’bout time too. Morristown corner store has been known to have the coldest beer coolers in the county. The new owners kept the coolers. Wise choice.
This weekend was the beginning of deer season, with a rifle. You can hunt from a little bit before dawn to a half hour past sunset. Going to the local general store mid day to meet up, or catch up is the scene. If you are hunting on your own land, you don’t need a license. That is what Bub tells me.
His dad called around 3 in the afternoon on Saturday to tell us that he had bagged his buck already. An 8 point 170 pounds. He called again today to tell us that the meat smells sweet, meaning that the buck was young. He went with Uncle Dicky and were heading back to the house to warm up, when he came down the hill to the truck and saw the deer. The buck ran toward the tailgate of the truck after it was hit and dropped just shy, making it a bit easier on the old fuddy duddies. I will hear this story at least 10 more times before the end of Thanksgiving dinner. I bet that by the time pie comes around, the buck would have jumped right into the back of the truck.
Bub is scouting our land and is hoping see a viable hit. I have only seen itty bitty spike horns, does and fawns. Good luck to ya.
On the way back from Wichita, I had the good fortune to sit with a young dairy farmer. He has a average size farm of 120 milking that he operates with his father over in Farrisburg. He milks 2x a day, 7 days a week and takes 5 days off a year. He hunts. There was a 11 point buck, field dressed and frozen traveling back with us, bagged in North Dakota.
Yup. It is good to be home. Kansas is nice and the people are friendly, but there is no place like home.
