By The Numbers - Rainfall 2024

We keep detailed records so that we can compare year over year.  It's probably a lot of trouble for nothing, but we do it anyway.  I find it is interesting to see changes.  It is instructive to see trends.  For instance which months are the driest and which are the wettest.  We live in an agricultural area and have agricultural interests.  One of the first things that farmers will tell you is that you need soil, sunlight and water in order to grow crops.

We try to grow a large percentage of our food on our little 5 acres of land, so rainfall matters - too much of it as well as too little of it.  I like the "Goldilocks and the 3 bears approach" to rainfall.  Not a flood, not a drought, but JUST RIGHT.  Keeping daily records that you compile helps you to know where you are.  

We collect lots of rainwater in numerous barrels and troughs that we have positioned beneath rooflines in order to sequester precipitation.  With a 1 inch rainfall, we can catch hundreds of gallons of water for the animals to drink and for us to use in irrigating the garden.  In a year like last year, though, rain barrels are useless if the wet stuff doesn't fall from the sky.  We've thought about learning how (from You Tube) to drill our own shallow well.  I tabled that idea but haven't forgotten about it and put it on the shelf.

Let's first look at the 2024 numbers.  This table shows rainfall by month and in total from summarizing and accumulating all my "ciphering."

But what does it mean, you might ask?  It means that we got a hair over 63 inches of rainfall in 2024, but that doesn't really tell you anything without looking at the trend.  I've added my 12 year trend below:

Now this tells you something!  First, it tells you that we rebounded from 2023 which was the lowest amount of rain in 11 years we've been recording and lower by almost a foot than the previous driest year.  It tells you that in 2024, February was the driest month and May was the wettest.  Normally March is the driest.  It tells you that we have a 12 year average annual rainfall of almost 64 inches.  In 2024, we pretty much hit the average on the nose.  The trend really highlights what an aberration 2023 was!

If you look up at my handwritten rainfall log, the detail shows you a metric that I call the "Best day to go on a picnic" statistic.  You'll see that it never rained on the 20th of any month last year.  Thus, a perfect picnic day!  So far in 2025, the streak is still alive.  It didn't rain on January 20th.

Visit the blog next when we'll look at Egg Production in 2024.

Random Photos on a Wednesday Night

The first photo tonight shows my hand holding two brown eggs with an "X" across them.  These are chalk eggs that we put in the nesting boxes.  They serve at least two purposes.  First, they entice the hens to lay eggs in the boxes versus in random hidden locations.  They often do this and then you can't find the eggs.  Once you find one of the hiding places, then you have to check that spot each day.

The primary reason for these fake eggs are for snakes.  Rat snakes (or as we call them, chicken snakes) love to slither into the boxes and eat the chicken eggs.  They then squeeze through a tight location and break the eggs in their bodies so that they can digest the protein.  I don't mind when these snakes eat rats.  It's when they lazily go after our eggs that we have to do something about it.  These chalk eggs do the trick.  Rat snakes cannot break the chalk eggs and thus, cannot digest them.  They get a bad case of constipation and die.  Russ was walking in the woods behind our land and found these two chalk eggs laying side by side near a pile of sticks.  Undoubtedly, the snake that ate them died.  Russ reclaimed the eggs and we put them back in the hen house in the laying boxes to catch more snakes.

It is hard to beat a warm, homemade flour tortilla.  Tricia makes them using a recipe from her mom and we devour them.  Obviously, we eat lots of tacos, but just putting cheese in them is good.  We also cut up avocados and fold up a tortilla around them.  Our recent favorite is putting refried black beans in a warm tortilla.  That's good eatin'!  The photo below shows something that Tricia taught us.  I think it is a Corpus Christi thing.  The photo below shows a "Charlie Brown" tortilla.  That means it is toasted on the griddle with brown spots.  It's so much better than the white tortillas that are sort of rubbery and chewy.  Here is a Charlie Brown tortilla:  We like them this way.

I like taking pictures of church signs.  Some are funny, some are clever, and some are just thought provoking.  I took this one in Oakdale the other morning.

2 And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God.  Romans 12:2 KJV

When We Built Things Better

My daily drives take me through small towns, villages, and cities.  I see a lot of sights and listen to a lot of podcasts and listen to a lot of audiobooks.  I like observing things - scenic landscape that you'll miss if you are distracted.  I'm not much of a builder.  In fact, when I build things, the corners aren't square and it's not pretty.  I mostly build stuff for our little homestead farm and I've discovered that the animals aren't concerned with fine craftsmanship.

But that doesn't mean I don't appreciate it when I see it.  I know one type of architecture I don't like, though.  Brutalist architecture.  Brutalist architecture is defined as "minimalist constructions that showcase the bare building materials and structural elements over decorative design."  Google an example.  It's just not pretty.  I mean, if you're going to build something, build something pretty.  

Today, many buildings are thrown together quickly and cheaply.  Even McDonald's used to have character.  Now, they are just modular, box-like construction.  Most small towns you drive through have a Dollar General and a closed down Family Dollar.  The town now boasts a cavernous, metallic building that is empty with weeds growing up in the parking lot.

There was a time when we built things better.  Less than 10 miles north of my home right off of LA Hwy 26 sits this beautiful old building.  I've long admired it.

I've searched for information about what it is, but cannot find anything on the internet.  I stopped my vehicle and walked around it the other day.

I looked inside of it for clues of what it might have been used for, but found nothing.

I want you to look at the detail on this building.  I think it says, "L. I. & M.C - L. P. Elberson"  Again, I couldn't find anything about this on the internet.  See, in the old days, things were built to last.  You signed your name to what you built, proud of the endeavor.  You put the year it was built on the building, because you built it with quality materials, expert skilled labor, and you knew it was going to last.  Perhaps someone almost a century later would stop their car and walk around it, admiring what you built. 

I'm not sure of what this building was, but I'm going to guess based on some clues I saw.  I think this building housed an engine and a pump.  Jefferson Davis Parish is rice farming country.  Rice requires water.  Lots of water.  People either drill deep water wells or use surface water pumped down canals from the nearby Bayou Nezpique or relifted out of numerous gullies.  The backside of this building seems to sit against the remnants of a canal.

Canals have long since been bulldozed and underground pipelines run to make water delivery more efficient and quicker than canals where evaporation, seepage, and leaks rob you of water needed in the rice field.  I'm guessing this building housed a pump or relift station that delivered water.

In 1936, they were still technically in the Great Depression, and yet, they expended the cost and effort to build a beautiful building that is still standing and still looks regal and appealing.  I tip my hat to you, Mr. L.P. Elberson.  Job Well Done.

As I walked back to my car admiring the building, I almost stepped on this poor fellow.  He was probably admiring the building, too, and didn't see the on-coming traffic.  A similar fate awaited me if I didn't get back to my car.

If anyone can clue me in on what this building really was, I'd be interested to know.  

A Hurried Harvest of Carrots

With the winter weather approaching with quickness, we frantically covered most of the garden.  Note to self:  Purchase additional tarps.  You cannot have too many tarps to cover plants, fruit trees and hay.  I remembered from previous freezes that carrots will make it just fine in a freeze.  However, the cows were standing by the fence, and I knew that severe cold weather was coming.  If I could feed them all the carrot tops from our three rows, that would give them a belly-full and a good head start on the cold.  Why not just harvest all of the carrots?  I had plenty of nervous energy, so I went and got the digging forks to aid in the job.

I generally plant 3 rows of carrots, with a different variety on each row.  The first variety is Cosmic Purple.  The outside "wrapper" of the carrot is purple.  However, the inside of the carrot is orange.

Here is a new variety for us.  I used to plant Atomic Red Carrots.  They were no longer available, so I opted for Kyoto Red Carrots.  They produced really well.  Lots of carrots and they were the biggest of the three varieties.

Finally, we have our traditional orange carrot - Danvers is the name of the variety.

I put them in a bin and left them on the back patio overnight.  Well, by the time we woke up the next morning, this is what the carrots looked like!  I got a big Rubbermaid-type tub and put several gallons of warm water in it.  I stood on the back patio and hand-washed every carrot, working fast before the warm water turned to frigid water.

Here are the Cosmic purple carrots all washed up:

Here are the Kyoto Red Carrots:

And finally the Danvers carrots.  This was not a good year for the Danvers variety.  They are usually very consistent.  This year, for whatever reason, the size was smaller than in previous years for this variety.

This cold weather is "soup weather."  After Chicken and sausage gumbo and potato soup, the next soup on the agenda was Cream of Carrot soup.  Then we've been eating oven-roasted carrots as a side dish.  So good!  We'd better be careful, though.  It is fact, not fiction, that if you eat too many carrots, the high level of beta-carotene will cause your skin to turn orange!

A Winter Wonderland

I mentioned last night that the birds were going crazy with the snow, banging into our windows on the back patio.  I guess the snow covered up anything that they could eat.  It reminded me of something that we would always do at Christmas when I was growing up. My mom is of Norwegian descent.  A Norwegian custom that we would always do was position a sheave of grain outside for the birds to eat.  We sing an old hymn called "Bringing in the sheaves," but in this case we'd put out the sheaves.  The birds certainly appreciated the feed.  You can see a red cardinal in the cassia tree below:

The garden is blanketed under 10 inches of snow.  We're hopeful that some plants survived.  We'll know for sure in a few days.

Looking at this photo of Rosie standing in front of the hay bale with the split firewood in the background, you'd be hard-pressed to say that this photo was taken in South Louisiana.

Elsie doesn't know what to think about all this snow.  Elsie and I had a little round this evening.  She is very selfish.  When we give each of the cows some hay from the square bales, Elsie will eat hers and then try to run Rosie off by head butting her and pushing her away and then she'll try to eat BOTH her hay and that of Rosie's.  

Here's Tricia standing in front of the backside of the garden.  Hard to imagine we'll be planting onions in here next week and Irish Potatoes in there the week following.  The snow is in the branches of the live oak trees and in the very top of the palm tree, too!

Here I am coming in from collecting a few eggs from the hen house.  You can see the snow piled up on the north side of the roof of the barn.  We had heard of carports collapsing form the weight of the snow in other parts of our town.  So far, the barn roof is holding up well.

Benjamin and Tricia posed in front of the house.  Benjamin is in crutches and walked into a snow-filled ditch.  In doing so, the rubber ends of both crutches came off and stuck down in the mud.  As soon as this snow melts, I'll try to dig them up out of the mud, if I can find them.

Benjamin and I posing in front of our snow filled yard.  The road is right in front of us.  Not much traffic moving today.

A snow-filled landscape around the husband and wife pecan trees.  We have been sitting in front of the fireplace shelling a bunch of pecans from these trees.  They are small, but they are fat and oily.

Here is a shadow made by the setting sun shining against a cross I make in the back yard with the trunk of a willow tree that died.

Our honeybees are trying to do their best to stay warm.  Today the temperature got to about 42 degrees.  I did see some bees flying around each box, so I'm pretty sure they survived.  That's great news!

And finally, here's milkmaid Tricia heading out to the barn to milk LuLu at sunset  Its a beautiful time of day, especially with the glow reflecting off of the snowy landscape with the garden and pasture in the background.

"...And ma in her kerchief and I in my cap, had just settled down ot a long winter's lap."

Let it Sneaux! (During the "Blizzard")

The weatherman had been calling for snow and temperatures below 20, but I thought they were crazy.  Well, I'm eating crow... served cold.  We awoke to snow blanketing the ground and more falling and lots more to come.  We built a big fire in the fireplace and watched the post card - like scenes outside the french doors.

Belle was camouflaged against the snow.  She absolutely loved the stuff, running around, rolling in it, eating it...  It was funny just watching her.  She's right next to one of our palm trees and you can see the tangerine tree covered with the heat lamp on it.  We'll see if we were successful in saving it.

My grandfather who grew up in South Dakota often told the stories of winters where they would tie a rope from their house to the barn so they wouldn't get lost in the blizzard on the way to feed the animals.  We didn't need that, but as we trudged out to milk, the snow began to come down.  It became very quiet with the noises muffled by the snow.

We got LuLu in the barn for milking and Elsie and Rosie poked their heads in the window for their morning sweet feed and hay.  They had snow and ice on their backs, but they have their thick winter coats on and don't appear to be bothered by the cold weather.

The chickens were acting strangely.  They did NOT want to walk on the snow.  They stayed under the drop shed and eyed the white stuff suspiciously.  I broke ice in the water troughs so they would have water to drink

We had the whole herd of goats in one stall.  They aren't fond of walking on snow.  They made the biggest mess in the barn.  We had fresh water for them in a bucket and of course, they immediately pooped in the water.  Not good manners at all.

Tricia, the milkmaid got LuLu all situated in the milking stall and began milking.

When we began walking back to the house, the snow was really falling.  We just couldn't believe what was going on!

Looking back at the barn, you can see the snow.  You can also see Belle running and having the best time ever!

Rosie and Elsie were covered in snow.  Nicky, the bull, is in the background, staying out of the snow.

I measured the snowfall once it had stopped and we got right at 10 inches of snow.  Incredible!  I looked it up on the internet to learn that 10 inches of snow = 1 inch of rain.

The snow was deep and it covered everything.  It's weight caused the live oak tree limbs to droop and touch the ground.  Snow blanketed the ground.  Little birds were confused and banged into our windows on the back patio.  Red cardinals contrasted against the white snow.

Look at all the snow on the roof.  People began saying to check in your attic.  Some people were reporting that the north wind was blowing snow through their ridge vents and into the attic.  I got the ladder and went into the attic to see if I would need to shovel snow out of the attic.  Fortunately, no snow in the attic.

I looked out at the beehives.  Hopefully they will make it through the cold weather.  Apparently, they ball up in a tight grouping to stay warm.  We'll see.

In the afternoon, the sun came out.  It would get 6 degrees overnight!  What a day!  It set all sorts of records.  It was a beautiful sight to see.  So far, we've kept power the whole time and all our water is still running.  We won't forget the January 21st snow day anytime soon!

Prepping for the Arctic Blast

The Arctic Blast sounds like a new slush that they might offer at Sonic, but we're taking it as seriously as we know how.  They are predicting cold weather.  The last time Tricia looked at her phone, she told me that they said it would be 9 degrees in Jennings.  9 degrees.  At that temperature, I don't know if it even pays off to cover plants, but I've got some tarps.  We might as well try.

The turnips that I had planted may be a lost cause as I didn't have quite enough tarps for them.  The greens were going to be for me.  The turnip roots for the cows.  We'll see if they survive.  Under the blue tarps you see is the spinach and radishes and some mustard greens.

The cilantro and the green onions are going to be left uncovered.  I don't know if they will survive.  The broccoli and brussels sprouts are covered.

The swiss chard, kale, kohlrabi and cabbage are all covered up, too.

Here is my new experiment.  Last time it reached the low 20's I lost two tangerine trees and a satsuma.  The navel orange tree and the tangerine that survived took 2 years to recover.  While the navel orange produced again this year, the surviving tangerine did not.  I had them covered, too.

This year I tried something.  In addition to covering them, I ran heat lamps to each one.  This is the heat lamp under the tangerine tree.

The new satsuma tree was small enough for me to flip the garbage can over it with the heat lamp inside.  Who knows?  It may make it so warm under there that it cooks the little tree.

And finally, here is the heat lamp under the covered up navel orange tree.  This is the one that I had just picked all the fruit off of it.

Will they make it?  Only time will tell.  I'll uncover them in a few days and we will report if the heat lamps did the job.

While we were out walking to the barn to do the evening chores, we began to hear sirens.  One after the other.  They turned off the main road and onto ours and stopped at our next door neighbor's house.  We could see flames and then the firemen jumped out and started spraying things down with water.

We didn't want to be nosy neighbors, so we didn't walk over.  The firemen had it under control quickly.  It didn't seem to have spread to their home.  It looked like it was confined to a barn behind his house.  I'll find out for sure, but I didn't see his heat lamps on his chickens like he always has on.  If I had to guess, it could be that he moved his birds into the barn and somehow the heat lamp caught the barn on fire.

No one was injured and their home was saved.  It's a good thing to live exactly one mile away from the Hathaway Rural Volunteer Fire Department.  They were on site in three shakes of a billy goat's tail and got it put out quickly.