Our Winding Country Roads Lend Themselves To Grown Up Boy's Dreams.

Another bonus to living in rural climes.

Have you ever faced an oncoming combined harvester? A scary sight on narrow roads and one that needs great skill and dexterity to pass...oh, and a whole lot of guts. Have you seen the size and width of those fangs dangling and swinging from the front?

The golden wheat fields are being visited by these huge machines and the dust in the air stands testimony to it. Thank goodness they do what they do, as otherwise our daily bread would be in question. On the fields these machines are agile movers and don't seem so scary as they do close up.

By the way, the men sitting in the cockpits of each harvester are always smiling, happy and full of cheer. Who wouldn't be, driving such a beaut.

Tractors are a dime a dozen on our roads and either they pull a trailer filled with crops, or an appendage for some agricultural deed or the less often seen, a manure truck. At least you get to smell it before and after it passes you...and you know what, it brings back pleasant memories of a childhood spent in the country.

Last, but not least, is the ultimate of any man's dream ( I think? ) and it is a red siren. Yes, the fire engine, that has large enough dimensions to warrant a bit of nervous driving when faced with it.

Luckily, our village's fire engine is more ornamental than used. Fires are hardly ever present and the few times our truck sees action, is when there is flooding and the cellars have to be pumped dry. But a car needs to stretch its legs, so to speak and the red sirens of most villages are taken for a joyful ride around the village.

Not everyone can and is allowed to man the controls of these fire engines, but those that do take them for an outing, have huge smiles on their faces and I am sure they are itching to sound the siren!

This morning another of these red engines passed in front of me with a happily smiling man driving it. Do you think these men every dared to dream that they would drive a fire engine, back when they were playing with Thomas, the train?

Biggi

The Gracefulness Of Maize Harvesting Reminds Me Of A Strauss Waltz.

A rural ballet everyone should see at least once.

Even now I could kick myself because the day I was privy to this delightful show, I forgot my camera at home. Yip, dreadful but never mind. It started off with a walk from the Deutsch Schützen Hall and even before I saw them, I heard them.

Walking towards the country lane that meanders beautifully between the various fields I heard a tractor. Nothing unusual except it was going at a faster speed than normal. A big tractor with its trailer brim full of crushed maize. The only reason I knew it was crushed maize was the fact that with the speedy driving, bits were being caught up in the wind and floated down to the ground in front of me, almost like a prelude. At least I solved that particular puzzle. There are sporadic bits of crushed anything on the various lanes.

If you've ever seen a combine harvester, you know they are huge. Huge and rather scary when one comes towards you on an open road. Best to pull over and let it pass. Most of the times its fangs take over half of the oncoming lane in any case. You actually get to hear a combine harvester driving before you see it. It gives off a grumbling roar of engine noise, that trumps a mere tractor by far.

As I turned the first corner into the country lane, I stopped in awe. Well, at first there was a tad bit of caution and dare I say had a healthy respect for those huge fangs. The driver lords it majestically in his driver's sofa, so far up in that tiny capsule and just in case he has a blind side, I stopped a very safe distance away.

Just as well I could stand and be a spectator of this rural ballet. The supporting stars were two tractors and their huge trailers, although they alternated on stage. The star of the show was this combine harvester. Oh, you should have seen it manoeuvre as gracefully as a ballerina around the maize field. Not a centimeter misjudged and reversing with a skill that even the most experienced taxi driver never attains.

All the while, the Stack of the combine harvester was spewing out a continuous flow of cut up maize. And here is where the waltz comes into play. The tractor drivers follow in a close two step each and every move of the big machine and catch every morsel of the chopped maize. The combine moves an inch to the left, the tractor does too. A reversing of the one, mirrors a similar move on the other.

This whole production goes in five minute intervals as this is how fast the trailer is filled. They must have had plenty of rehearsals, because the way the two tractors alternated in collection the spew of chopped maize was poetry in motion and a joy to behold...

Harvest time is not yet over and you'll be able to catch a performance at a field near you...well worth it.

Biggi

Where Have All The Meadows Gone?

Nary a cow to be seen, even in our rural paradise.

With all that rain we've been having, a lot of fields are water logged and some of the young crops are floating away. Sad for the farmers, but as someone told me the other day, in a way they are to blame as they have not left any place for the water to go because of over planting.

In the days of yore, the farmers didn't have Google, but they knew how to deal with water. Nowadays, driving through most villages, you can see crop fields everywhere but mere pastures with cows grazing on them, are extremely rare. Sad really as there is nothing more homely than walking passed a meadow with a cow ruminating on it.

Cows are extremely rare in our area and a lot of our little farming villages don't even have cows anymore! In the olden days, cows were a necessity and of course dairy farmers needed to feed the cows and have many pastures for grazing. And those pastures were a natural water sponge, that dealt with a prolonged rainy season. The farmers were clever back then...

Wouldn't it be a super idea for our village to have a few communal cows? A few crop fields converted into pastures and a mini herd of cows on them. Imagine how cute that would be, seeing the calves growing into a pretty Daisy or Moo!

What an advertisement it would be if we had that proverbial and communal cow grazing happily on a meadow covered with wild flowers, weeds and green grass? Children could have a holiday helping out milking, feeding or just conversing with our cow. When we say that we are going out for a pint of milk, all we'd need to take would be a little pail, a footstool and a few soothing words for old Daisy...

In a strange way, once we realize how much work goes into a liter of milk, we would appreciate it much more and not waste so much. Who hasn't thrown away milk, yoghurt or cheese that has gone off?

I can see our logo now...

Eisenberg, where we have the best vintages of wine and milk...
Eisenberg, the village that lets you try your hand at offline farming...

Biggi

Bob Mows The Lawns And Has The Most Amazing Fun.

Living in the country always guarantees lovely surprises.

I knew I should have gone with Bob yesterday, when he set off to mow a few lawns. That inner voice told me that excitement was ahead ( not only Bob in shorts ) but alas I refused to listen and rather heeded the siren call of a housewife and cleaned the bathroom! Never again, I tell you...

Bob came home after lunch and told me what I had missed. He had been mowing the grass along one of the Kellerstöckl and when he looked up to wipe his brow, he thought he was hallucinating. There, cool as cucumbers were two sheep meandering down the tarred road. Side by side and almost like normal tourists.

As luck would have it, my Mum was in the vineyards and Bob got her attention to show her these delightful newcomers. My Mum, quick as anything put two and two together and phoned a neighbouring sheep farmer. It turned out that these sheep had been sold to one of our villagers and of course Mum knew him too.

After a few comical minutes phoning about, the new owner showed up to lead home the stray sheep. Imagine the excitement of cars careering down our roads, in search of a few errant sheep. Oh darn, I wish I could have been part and helped lead one of the sheep back.

But these new shepherds still have a bit to learn about the ingenuity of sheep! Bob, had gone to a different Kellerstöckl to mow that lawn, and was privy to the next installment of this sheep saga. Oh yes, one sheep had done a runner and had energized almost everyone to scramble all over the forest, looking for it.

Once all the hide & seekers have been found, a new paddock will see them grazing and looking mighty pretty. These sheep, as far as I can gather are the new producers of goat cheese for one of the local eateries.

Quizzy as I am, I will make sure my walk this morning leads me passed the sheep-paddock! When I did the to-be-expected cooing yesterday:

" Oh how cute, I want sheep for our yard too! "

the master of the house informed me that our fences would be a walk in the park for ingenious sheep.

Farm animals must be the coolest thing ever and in our future I see a few horses, cows, sheep and perhaps a pig or two. Oh yes Bob, our hitherto tranquil mornings will then be taken up by mucking out stables and feeding the crew.

Life in our village is tops!

Biggi

Where Have All The Cows Gone?

Have you also noticed that there are not too many cows about?

It struck me yesterday morning. There I was, walking among the pristine, beautiful and abundant grass covered meadows and guess what, there were no cows to be seen. My goodness, this should be bovine central.

Cows here, would have it made. This would be the equivalent of moving to the best bovine neigbourhood. Lush meadows as far as the eye can see, not too many irritating concrete houses about and a mild climate to boot.

From what the older villagers tell me, everyone used to keep a few cows. Well, not everyone as having livestock was expensive and during the war years people really battled. But, if you had a cow or two, a few pigs and hens, you were able to feed your family during those awful lean years.

In fact, if you were lucky enough to be a farmer it meant you could survive. City life didn't ensure that you had food on your plate and a lot of children were sent to family in the country during the war.

Cows provide us with milk and thus the ability to make butter and cheese. Of course we all know the story of how children nowadays seem to think that milk is made at the supermarket. Imagine the answers to the question of where cheese and butter are made!

Honestly, now that I think of it, there are no cows in our village. Sure, further out one can see a herd or two but not as often as when we were young. Is there anything nicer then seeing a herd of cows in a meadow? When I was a young lass ( back in the last century ) trips to the country were highly prized. Being able to stand next to the fence and mooo-ing a cow to come towards you was just so special.

Special and frightening at the same time. When you are small and a big cow stands in front of you, it takes a lot of willpower and guts not to run away. But once that big tongue slobbers your hand, all is well. Cows love to be stroked, don't they? Oh, nice memories.

Why, are there so few cows about? Money of course, or rather the lack of it perhaps. Dairy farmers don't get paid enough for the milk they produce. This culture of making more and more profit for shareholders has most of us forgetting the amount of hard work that goes into producing a liter of milk, or anything else for that matter.

We can buy it at the supermarkets for give or take one Euro. How much of this do you think that the farmer gets? Remember, a dairy farmer has to:

• ...feed his cows. Use his fields for grazing instead of planting. Buy in food in winter.
• ...milk his cows.
• ...always be at home. Not many holidays for the farmers.
• ...has to pay the vet.
• ...has to pay a third party to deliver the milk.

Milk should be more realistically priced and even if it cost more, we as consumers would appreciate it more and not waste so much of it. Once the farmer gets more money per liter of milk produced ( enough money to make a good living ), more cows might be prancing around in the meadows. No, no one wants a battery kept cow.

Living in the country, we could go back to the olden days and buy milk straight from the farmers. Once that would happen, the price should drop because there would be no middle man then!

Walking about yesterday morning, I thought to myself how nice it would be if Bob and I could keep a cow at our house. Gosh, ours is an old farmhouse, so space is not the issue. Feeding and vet bills might cause a problem though.

But still, wouldn't it be nice if we could get a calf almost from birth and rear it. I could take it with me on my walks and when it is older, we would have milk and butter...

When I told Bob my string of thoughts as I got home, he blanched instantly, because all he could see in front of him was how people would look at his wife...the one taking a cow for a walk!

Biggi

A Gaggle Of Geese, A Tractor & A Threatening Cloud.

Country living at its best.

These geese and their gaggle are a constant companion on the last part of my walk. The bigger they get, the more noise they make. Gosh, at times you can hear them arguing among themselves a few hundred meters away. There are the leaders and the followers in the flock of geese.

This could be a goose fight. The two opponents in the middle and the crowd gaggling them along....

" Don't be a chicken, go on and peck him! "

I know that to you it may be just a boring tractor plowing the field. But to me, it has many aspects: the chortling of a tractor engine is soothing, seeing the field change colour where he has plowed is almost hypnotic and of course it means a profitable season for our local economy.

The minute I can afford it, I am going to sign up for tractor driving lessons. Kind of the extreme version. I want to be able to reverse a tractor & trailer into a driveway, looking as cool as the local farmers do. A lot of the local men, who work in Vienna during the week, come home on weekends and hop on a tractor, looking like they were born into the saddle. Rather attractive, I dare say!

A storm is threatening. The sky started clouding over; almost looking ominous. The wind changed pitch and strength enough to rattle windows and some chimneys.

Even with the promise of a storm, the plains look amazing. I was on my way to Bildein and was so mesmerized that I pulled over at the side of the road and took these photos.
I hope you have enjoyed them...

Biggi

You Can't Fool A Farmer About The Weather.

Farmers don't just know the lay of the land!

Do you remember those old black & white movies about schooners, sailboats and pirates? It might have been the Bounty or some such. But I still recall a scene where one of the sailors needs to empty a bucket of waste into the ocean. Being young, it took me a while to understand why he first licked his finger and held it up in the air. He needed to see where the wind was blowing from as having the contents of this bucket blown back at him would have been simply yuck.

Farmers use sophisticated weather forecast just to make sure, but they know even before they look at the weather channel. It may be a finger stuck in the air or a twitching in their little finger or a cow mooing differently. But farmers the world over know.

Before Bob and I moved here, we came here to visit my parents. Our room was in front of the house, facing the street and thus the neigbours. Holidays are exciting anyway, but Bob and I got an extra dose of it. In the middle of the night, we both woke up. There was a loud humming sound in the air and as we looked out our window from our bed we saw huge round lights that hovered about 3 meters in the air.

We instantly recalled all the Sci-Fi movies we had ever seen and thought aliens had come to get us. At least for a second. Bob being brave rushed to the window to have a closer look. Men are funny that way and I suppose very brave...or eh, stupid! After a minute the penny dropped and he started to laugh. Yes, it was the neighbour, a farmer, taking his combine harvester ( huge beasts of machinery ) out to do its work. The ' alien ' lights, were just its brights... Oh well, now we knew!

On Monday evening another combine harvester cut a swath through the wheat field next to our house. The farmer started at sundown and luckily we knew why there were two huge round lights hovering about in the field. I was still wondering why they would work so late into the night and got my answer the next morning, on Tuesday. Our hot and sunny weather had gone elsewhere for a while. Yes, the afternoon brought heavy and continuous rain with it.

When I went for my walk yesterday morning, I saw how quick on their feet our farmers are. All the wheat fields along my route had changed. In fact, they really looked nice. When I rounded one corner I stumbled across a view, that could have been a setting for Claude Monet.
Just too beautiful, don't you think?

As I told you, the hot sunshine with the azure blue sky had disappeared for the day, but I still adore this view.

Such symmetry. As if these round balls of straw are standing to attention...( not sure if I can all it a hay-bale, as it is straw, isn't it? )

Perfectly rounded into a huge ball.

Can you see the raven perching on the bale of straw?

Here is a quick reminder what the wheat looked like before it was harvested. Also a picture of beauty...

Biggi

Wheat, So Vital & Beautiful, How Could You Not Like It?

The basics of life...

Luckily I got there just in time. The wheat slasher is doing the rounds. No, not some escapee from an asylum but an escapee from a barn. The farmers are starting to harvest the wheat. It is just at its most beautiful and attractive, but we need to use the wheat for more than its looks.

As I was transferring the photos it occurred to me that this wheat is vital for us all. This colourful bit of canvas is the main ingredient for cakes, breads and so much more. We should really go back to the old ritual of giving thanks for the harvest. When did we learn to take it all for granted? We want bread...we go to the nearest shop.

One of the ladies I go and have coffee with, told me how during the War ( the second one ) the only food they had to eat was what they grew and reared themselves. They planted a field of wheat
( and obviously much more ) and this harvest would get them through the Winter. In fact, once the wheat was harvested by hand,as only some had a horse to help with the harvesting, they had to take it five kilometers to the mill. Once it was milled, they would put the sacks of flour ( or rather wealth ) in the attic where they had wooden containers. This would get the through the winter. Makes you think, doesn't it?

The other day, I stumbled across a reminder:

If you ate today, thank a farmer.

You know, when you see it as stark as this, it takes a few minutes to get the whole punchline. No, even the supermarkets would be empty without farmers. Without farmers, we aren't, pure and simple. Farming should be the most revered and well paid profession there is.

Farmers & Teachers should earn more than....you can fill in this space!

Let me come back to my photos. Wheat in all its different guises. I hope you'll enjoy it.

The stage is set.

Nice, isn't it? A perfect combo...

Nature almost seems gift wrapped.

Intricate, delicate and bountiful. This is will make our food.

The two sides fighting over the beauty in the middle.

The last scene after the harvester has done its rounds.....

Biggi

The Rain In Sp..Oh Burgenland!

When it rains, it pours.

These few rainy days we are having right now, must be part of the 65 days per year with no sunshine. Our part of paradise does have on average about 300 days of sunshine per year. The streets might be paved with piles of pristine white snow, but the sun will still be shining. Yes, that still counts.

Rain to me is a good thing. When you have lived on the African continent, you learn to appreciate water or rather the lack of it. Water restrictions are not fun at all. Lack of water is horrid for farming too and costly as they somehow need to get water onto the crops. A rainy day saves the farmers oodles of irrigation money. So, rain is fabulous.

The skies opened up on Sunday night in spectacular fashion and yesterday morning as we were driving past Burg, we saw how much it had actually rained. Sadly, some parts were flooded again. Ironically just outside the swimming lake. Building on flood planes seems to be done all over and in time people will learn to respect nature a tad bit more.

Living in Austria or rather Burgenland with its long history, it is amazing to see how absolutely brilliant most people were back in the middle ages. Almost all the old villages were built on a hill. Water or foes were kept at bay. Clever. In fact, modern man could learn a thing or two from the town planing of the olden days.

When the rain pelted us on Sunday evening, I remembered that I needed to close windows at a friends place. About a 5 km round trip so I had to take the car. Bob heroically offered to drive me. Great. He had his favourite leisure pants ( those with holes and stretchy elastic ) on and didn't see the point of changing as he did not plan to get out the car at all. Fair enough, I was wearing our only working ( don't we all have those useless non-working ones in our cupboards? ) raincoat in any case.

One of Bob's favourite Buschenschanks is right next door to where we had to go and it was open. I couldn't resist teasing him:

" Bob, come let's go and have supper there. "

" Yes..oh no, I can't go like this! "...

Bob obviously didn't listen to the parental advice: Never wear your old holey leisure pants outside the house...!

Biggi

Taken while driving. This is just one day of rain with more having fallen over night.

At the bottom of Burg.

The sky over our home did look rather ominous. Nature in its many guises.

You Can Take The Man Out Of The Village, But....

The lure of the meadows, pastures and tractor is just too irresistible.

Ask any farmer worth his salt, and he will tell you that most of his kids ( sometimes the girls too ) know how to drive a tractor before they are 15. This is a treasure that city kids can only dream about.

Landwirtschafts-Simulator 2013 (PS3)

Growing up and learning how to milk a cow by hand, driving a tractor over the fields, stacking hay and taking the freshly laid eggs from a protective chicken must be the best fun ever. Oh for sure, once the hormones kick in a lot yearn for the big city life complete with suit and tie.

Yes, in our village a lot of the youngsters ( 20-50 age group ) work in Vienna. But despite or maybe because of all the glitz, glamour and fun a city offers, some of the men head home on weekends. Either to stay with their parents or family. Sort of like a SuperFarmerAction hero..

Can you picture this SuperFarmerAction hero?

Driving out of the Vienna city limits, he'll start to loosen his tie and take it off. A few kilometers further on he'll ditch his blazers and smart togs. Finally as he stops the car at home, he'll turn into SmartFarmer. I like to picture it as a metamorphosis from that suit & tie to wellies and dungarees. Oh and lets not forget a huge grin on his face.

These bankers and lawyers can hop on a tractor and plow the fields without switching gear. These skills are innate and are never forgotten. By the way, driving a tractor is not so easy. Maybe going forward is manageable but driving in reverse is an art form.

When you see how precise they whip that tractor through its paces, you begin to get a new found respect for them. A few of the local boys have even won trophies for their skills in tractor driving.

Women like to knit / crochet / cross-stitch or sew to relax. For some men, the time spent on a tractor or forking hay bales is better therapy than a spa - holiday.

Let's not forget, that farming is making a comeback in importance and popularity. Farming is a desirable trade to learn. The world needs to eat and without farmers, we wouldn't have food...Thank you, Farmers!

Amazon.com:Mini Farming: Self-Sufficiency on 1/4 Acre

Biggi

A glorious weekend morning...

Soothing, isn't it?

A rural scene.