Winter preparations for Casey

There are signs. Casey stands in the barnyard at certain times of the day (morning and late afternoon), looking longingly at me, hinting that I ought to get over there and throw him some hay. He often punctuates his efforts with a desperate-sounding whinny or two. I look back at him with his abundant padding and shrug off the temptation to start the routine too soon.

There's still plenty of grass in the three pastures where Rambo and Casey graze. But Casey knows it's getting time to think about winter, and he's a routine sort of horse. The colder days of late have moved his calendar along a bit faster than those we have hanging in the house. He thinks it's time for me to start serving his needs in the form of morning flakes and evening flakes. He'll know for sure at noon today when Harvey Lippert's big flatbed truck, loaded down with six tons of hay, comes rolling in the driveway.

I decided three years ago that my bucking-bales days were over. Since that decision, I've joked that the hardest work I do is opening and closing the gate to the barnyard and writing the check. That first year the Mastres, who are Mennonite farmers from Bonners Ferry, delivered our hay. Haying season lasted almost 45 minutes. I liked it.

Last year, when I learned that Harvey delivers hay to horse owners, I decided to add our stop to his customer list. After all, I've known Harvey since he and his twin brother Harley tried to get those ponies to behave in the ring while they rode them in 4-H horse shows. That was easier said than done, as it always seems to be with ponies.

It was also through 4-H that I got to know Harvey better. He joined my photography club, along with my son Willie, Rose Clark, Tasha Rosenberger and Shari McCormick. We had a nice little group and went on lots of little photography jaunts to snap pictures. Later in high school, Harvey served on my Cedar Post newspaper staff as a cracker jack ad salesman. We could always count on his regular half-page ads from the local Ford dealership where he bought his pickups.

Harvey went on to be a farmer---and a darned good one. Yesterday's photo collection included a picture of my mother in the field that Harvey farmed last year. This year, the 25 acres produced 81 tons of hay the first cutting and 16 more the second. He's also plowed up and replanted another of Mother's fields at Colburn, and it's looking good for next year's first crop of hay.

Succeeding in agriculture any more in Bonner County takes a special knack, a lot of determination and a wide array of knowledge. Harvey and his wife Leslie (Wood) seem to have all those. Both come from farming backgrounds. Neither is afraid of hard work. Often, they work as a team in the fields. They are succeeding as Bonner County farmers. And, because they are, my life is easier, and Casey's needs will be met for another winter.

I'll welcome the sight of Harvey's truck coming in the driveway today as much as Casey will. I'm still not sure, however, that Casey's longing looks will tempt me to start his morning and afternoon routine any sooner than normal. Cuz once you start, you're committed every single day until long into the spring.

So, Casey, enjoy that pasture! The hay will be there when you need it.