We used to live at the base of the Rocky Mountains. We dealt with 80mph gusts that took out our fence, and regular gales that made outdoor work unpleasant at best. I had the option to simply stay indoors and wait for more pleasant weather.
Here, though, we have animals and structures that we need to care for. While the mammals survived without difficulty, the chickens were another story.
Phil went out to find their pen tipped over. He set the pen up and, like some of the finds in King Tut's tomb, it disintegrated on contact. Blast!
He set the roof on top of the laying boxes, so the hens would have some protection, and the wind carried the roof out of the pen and away. Now the hens have just the laying boxes.
While no hens were actually injured, they did reduce their production to only 6 eggs, not the standard 16 or so we've been getting.
Today Phil made sure the greenhouse was more capable of withstanding winds (note the extra tensioning cable, or something, there in the corner).
I, weak but no longer feverish, was pleased to find my onions continuing to grow well.
The asparagus, on the whole, has proven so far rather a disappointment. Only about half my seeds have sprouted, and the two week germination period is done tomorrow. The few that have sprouted, though, I appreciate. And, at 13 days since planting, I'm amazed at how similar to an adult the seedlings look!
Outside, the garlic is the only real new growth in the garden. My kale has not come back up; I think December's extreme cold took it out. I miss it.
Phil went to plow the second swale, upslope from the keyline he'd plowed earlier. He had used the garden cart and the tractor to figure out the spacing yesterday, and began to plow today. He didn't quite get the full swale done when he hit a stump. When he tried to get the plow and tractor to pull it up (the diameter wouldn't be terribly large: none of the stumps in the field are), a small bolt on the plow sheared off, and he was done plowing for the day.
Really, it's a good design feature. Rather than ruin the tractor or the plow, a cheap bolt provided a proper cut-off switch. Phil can buy a box of bolts next time he's at the hardware store, and he learned a good lesson about the limits of his equipment.
The boys played outside today in the glorious mid-60s weather. They use the large peat bales (some of which tipped over when set in place) as their obstacle course and maze, their towers and parkour. Through this all, they grew very dirty. C'est la vie.
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