“Mooommm! There are men outside with funny looking skid loaders that AREN’T ours!” my six-year-old exploded. If we lived in the city, I’d think we were having road construction. On the farm, mystery skid steers in the front yard are a different story.
“What are they doing?” I questioned from the other side of the house where I was working.
“They’re driving into the woods!!!” he erupted.
If this were the Wild West, I could imagine that the posse had shown up and they were settin’ up camp in my woods with a plot to steal my cows and roast them one by one over their camp fire while forming a devious plot to take over the farm. Of course they’d be riding horses in the Wild West, but this is 2025, so the posse in my head drives skid loaders I guess.
Before sending Pa out with the shot gun to scare off the posse, I pieced together the fragmented yell-report from the other side of the house. “They’re headed towards the pond!” my little report resounded. Without warning, my posse fantasy disintegrated and shook me to reality. Was today the day?!
Orders started flying out of me like an ER doctor trying to save someone’s life. I posted a child on the porch swing to look down the driveway and tell me when she saw the next truck coming. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen next, but I wanted to know when it happened.
Moments later, we received the call. “The eagle is airborne,” only that’s not what they said at all, but if this was a political thriller in which all the important people had taken to the sky in the midst of a nail-biting battle, that’s what they would have said. We had fought hard for six months to get this “eagle” airborne, so it might as well have been a thriller.
Would the 18,000 pound eagle even be able to arrive? That is one chubby eagle. Supposedly she needed a police escort to even get down the road. If the eagle would arrive, could they really nest her in the woods? Would it get stuck in the field? Or worse? I had spent the last six months imagining our “eagle,” in this case, our oversized moveable Airbnb, toppling off the trailer and down the bluff into the ravine enroute to our house. My imaginings got even more vivid when my husband assured me that we could just “throw some wheels under her and drag her home under cover of night.”
Though I’m usually up for adventure, that didn’t sound like one for me. It sounded dangerous, expensive, and jail-inducing if it went sideways. Last time I checked, it’s hard to run a dairy farm from prison.
No, this was a job for the professionals. Did we find professionals? Well, we found some willing guys who said they could probably do it, after about 50 people who said they wouldn’t touch that project with a 10-foot pole. Good enough.
Crossing my fingers that these movers actually had insurance, we sat on the porch with baited breath.
“I see it!!!!!” my little reports screeched. Rocking back and forth like a ship at sea, the “eagle” lumbered down our driveway, swaying with each dip of the gravel. It hadn’t fallen off in the valley, but the off roading portion of the voyage was about to commence.
Into the field she flew, not off the trailer, but down and around the driveway, lining up for a straight shot to the runway.
I wasn’t sure if I wanted to look or close my eyes because who wants to see their nightmares come alive?! Whatever the case, we posted ourselves in the woods to watch the landing unfold.
As my blood pressure rose, I watched the posse of skid steer pilots guide our eagle to her nest like a group of professional drag racers who do loopty-loops with smoking tires and then literally slide sideways into the parking spot like they meant it all along. Ok, there were no smoking tires, but the alfalfa field was slippery and when the house was pulling the truck around like a toy, I just closed my eyes.
Much to the opposite of my imaginations, the eagle landed in one piece! It took four skid steers to lift her from the trailer, but the posse did their job beautifully and she’s home! Next up? Operation transformation! This eagle isn’t going to know what happened to her when I’m done with her. We’re beautifying, redesigning and metamorphosing her into the best pasture Airbnb you ever did see.
Meet your farmer – Liz Gerdes. She and her husband run a farm-to-table raw milk dairy and (soon to be two!) farm Airbnb(s) in Caledonia. Visit gerdesfreshfarm.com or follow her on Facebook @gerdesfreshfarm or Instagram @gerdesliz for more info.
Salted Honey Latte
1 cup milk
1 cup coffee or espresso
1/2 teaspoon real maple syrup (to taste) add more or less
depending on preference
1 Tablespoon honey
1 teaspoon flaked sea salt for topping (add to your liking – I like
the distinct sea salt flavor)
Pour milk into jar and cover with a tightly fitting lid. Shake vigorously back and forth for a minute, until foamy. Take off the lid, and microwave milk for 15 seconds.
Divide coffee or espresso between two of your favorite cups. (If you’re making it iced, use room temp coffee and pour it over ice.) Sprinkle a little sugar in each glass.
Using a spoon, hold back the foam and pour a little milk into each glass. Then take spoonfuls of the foam to add on top of the latte. Drizzle honey over each latte and top with flaked sea salt. Stir to combine and enjoy!
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