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The Gentleman Farmer

~ Found somewhere in a part of the country known as north Florida and south Georgia…

The Gentleman Farmer

Tag Archives: fieldwork

Lately…

19 Wednesday Aug 2015

Posted by thegentlemanfarmer in Gentleman Farming, Living, Seasons, time, Totem Hall

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

chores, farm boss, farm chores, field mow, fieldwork, hay, kubota, taylor pittsburgh mower deck

I’ve been spending time on the back of a tractor, contemplating all the mysteries…

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From the Old English writha…

01 Saturday Nov 2014

Posted by thegentlemanfarmer in Living, Nature, Passages, Seasons, Totem Hall

≈ 12 Comments

Tags

crowns, daydreaming, doorways, entries, etruscans, fieldwork, greeks, harvest, old, olympics, owls, power, romans, tractor, wealth, wikipedia, wise, wreaths

harvest wreath...

harvest wreath…

I came back from the Woodberry Parents Weekend to find the front door of Totem Hall all decked out with a brand new wreath, courtesy of my mother in law, celebrating the best of fall.

one view up close...

one view up close…

Later on my tractor, working a field, I started thinking about wreaths, the whole who, what, when, and where.

another view up close...

another view up close…

So I turned to Wikipedia; I mean, after all, who doesn’t? Did you know that wreaths appeared during the Etruscan era, worn as crowns? After that, the Greeks and Romans appropriated the wreath concept, wearing them to celebrate, for instance, Olympic achievement, or to designate wealth and power.

wise old owl up close...

wise old owl up close…

Of course, wreaths on the head are all good and wonderful, but how does one get from the dome to the door? Well, by way of Wikipedia, one again turns to the ancient Greeks. It turns out the Greeks enjoyed hanging a harvest wreath by their door, just like mine.

one more look...

one more look…

before you come on in...

before you come on in…

And there you go…

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Adjust This, Cowboy…

19 Thursday Jun 2014

Posted by thegentlemanfarmer in Gentleman Farming, Totem Hall

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

adjustment bar, bad innuendo, field mow, fieldwork, frozen, nuts and bolts, taylor pittsburgh mower deck

My bar needs adjusting. There, I needed to say that, just for laughs and giggles, and well because my bar really does need adjusting.

the adjustment bar...

the adjustment bar…

For those who just can’t get through the day without knowing, the adjustment bar helps with a mower deck’s angle of attack. You see, most folks tend to have the front of their deck too high in relation to the back. This will lead to backside dragging (a problem whether you’re a human or a machine), which results in blown out, abused, and otherwise perfectly trashed back panels. A little adjustment here, a little adjustment there, and before you know it, the front side has the most is the perfect pitch to the back and you get the most loveliest of mows.

no saggy back end here...

no saggy back end here…

At least that’s how it works in theory. In my reality, I adjusted too hard, cranked one too many times, which, as you can see by my ruts in the dirt, led to a not particularly aesthetic finish. Adding insult to injury, my nut froze to my bolt. The only solution: saw it in two.

those damned ruts...

those damned ruts…

frozen...

frozen…

I leave you to think about that for a bit…

 

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Rhododendron Pop

29 Tuesday Apr 2014

Posted by thegentlemanfarmer in Gardening, Gentleman Farming, Seasons

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

farm chores, fieldwork, flowers, hay, kubota, mowing, plants, rhododendron, taylor pittsburgh mower deck, tractors

go girl...

go girl…

that's right...

that’s right…

you go, girl...

you go, girl…

Spring has sprung.

&

So, fieldwork calls…

boy toy...

boy toy…

saddle up...

saddle up…

front field, in part...

front field, in part…

right, off we go then...

right, off we go then…

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Recent Background Noise

Perhaps my ennui stems from David Bowie's death. I read somewhere that we should consider ourselves lucky to have lived at the same time he did. I do. Many years ago, there was a girl in my secondary school, Debbie P., who was very hip, very groovy, and very pretty. Now I attended Catholic schools and so, as you might imagine, we had to wear uniforms, except, of course, for after-school activity, and that's where I get to the point of the story. Our school was putting on its big play of the year, I had a small part, Debbie was working backstage. One evening during rehearsal she showed up wearing a Ziggy Stardust tee-shirt. I was young, naive, not hip, not groovy, and not knowing who the ambiguous Ziggy might be. During the weekend that followed that rehearsal, I went to a record store and discovered just what David Bowie was all about. It was a transforming experience. Now some forty years later, I farm, David is dead, and Debbie is into Christian rock bands. Did I say ennui...

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