A walk in the rain

Having dumping five inches out of the rain gauge, it is in the process of filling up again.  The rain shows no sign of letting up, so I put on a raincoat and my Canada hat, which works almost as well as an umbrella, and went for a stroll.  Cliff told me to check and see if the disked-up part of the pasture was washing.  

 It didn't look too bad on the west side. 

 I'll bet the cows are enjoying the coolness of the rain, after suffering through record temperatures all summer.  

 The pond has been dry for several weeks.  Isn't it amazing what five inches of rain can do?  

 Oops.  The east side of the field washed terribly.  This is what happens when you have sandy soil and try to farm on a hillside.  On the bright side, once this mud dries out so I can walk on it without sinking in, I should be able to find a few of these: 

I found this one in the seedbed last weekend while walking with my sister-in-law.  It isn't perfect, but it's always a thrill to find proof that you are walking where Indians once walked.

  Yep, I'll bet I find some arrowheads in a few days.  

This and that

Cliff got our pasture seeded Sunday and Monday; it was mighty wet for him to be working the soil, but our sandy soil drains quickly and he got the job done.  Grass of any kind needs, ideally, to be sown by September 15, so he got it in just under the wire.  Tuesday the rains came, over 2 1/2 inches.  The pasture ground is not level, and we both figured half the field was washing away.  As it turns out, the rain came slowly, and there was only minor erosion.  
Yesterday it rained again, almost an inch in the course of the day.  

Again, the rain came slowly.  So far, so good.  All this rain should have that seed germinating in record time; once the grass and clover is up and growing, the danger of erosion will be reduced.  
Cliff has been having a lot of back pain lately.  He has a history of back pain, ever since he worked at the butcher shop and was the only person big and strong enough to move beef quarters from one rail to another.  But he's been able to manage the pain.  Now he has a hip bothering him too, and it sometimes pops when he's walking.  I'm pretty sure what that means, but I'm no doctor.  I do have experience with osteoarthritis, though.  
Anyhow.  We've never been ones to go to a chiropractor, but Cliff decided to try one while we still have good insurance coverage.  We'll see how that goes.  His first visit was yesterday. He experienced some relief immediately following the treatment, and he goes again today.  
It seems as though it takes forever for daylight to arrive now.  I was in the habit of going outside with my coffee and checking the garden and flowerbeds to see what little miracles had occurred while I was sleeping.  These days the coffee is long gone before it gets light enough to see.  
On the garden front, I'm feuding and fussing with a mole who insists on making his run right under my row of fall beets.  The miracle zucchini is producing better than ever, and I am celebrating the fact that the squash bugs have not bothered it.  
I'm only getting a couple of tomatoes each day, and they aren't very pretty.  But they still taste better than store-bought.  
We're getting garden-fresh green beans, and these recent rains have given the eggplants new life.  I've blanched a couple of gallon freezer-bags of sweet peppers to use in stuffed peppers this winter.  
My little garden is giving us lots of free food, and I'm thankful for every bite.  

Rainy days aren't so bad if you have a good book

A few days ago I wandered over to Kansas City Sinic's blog, and she sang the praises of a book called "The Glass Castle". It sounded like something I could get into, so I went to Amazon.com, found a used copy, used my $5 Amazon gift card (thank you Swagbucks) and ended up paying only $2, shipping and all.

Believe me, it's keeping me spellbound. I've had my nose in the book off and on all day.

We're up to two inches of rain so far, it's still coming down, and there's more in the forecast.

Last week I saw in our local newspaper that flu shots were going to be given today, from ten till noon, in our little city hall. I woke Cliff up around ten, telling him there was no hurry because we had until noon. We were puzzled to see no cars at all in front of City Hall. I went inside and saw not a single person, although I detected a faint medicinal smell... maybe alcohol. Returning to the car, Cliff decided I must have gotten the date wrong.

As we were about to leave, "Wild Bill" (that's what his pickup says, although he doesn't look that wild) drove up beside us and told us they ran out of the vaccine early on.

It's time for Cliff's quarterly visit to the doctor anyhow, and I need to see if they can give me a blood pressure med that doesn't make me cough; I quit taking the last prescription after three weeks of miserable choking and hacking, and it took three weeks off of it before the coughing stopped. Anyhow, we'll get our flu shots then.

*sigh*

So, I hear more rain is coming

Yeah, for the next three (count 'em) days. Two or three inches overall expected.

Ah, the weather

Cliff's sister took this picture this morning. Didn't we look happy to be heading to Arkansas? Don't mind the neighbor's dirt yard; it's been like that for three years. If weeds start to grow, he just gets the dozer and runs it over the yard.

Fools. That's us. Check out the weather for Arkansas and Missouri for the rest of the weekend. If we don't get drenched heading home, it'll be by the grace of God.

I will say we sure did enjoy the ride down here. At least we have that.

A most delightful storm

Thunder and lightning preceded the rain we're having now, making me anticipate the storm that was approaching. I lose our Dish-TV signal during rainstorms, but that's OK. It's worth it. I do love rain.

Sadie doesn't deal well with storms, and seeks a snug cave in which to hide. So I removed my guitar from under the baby bed behind me to allow her to curl up there... although she isn't normally allowed in that space. I'll vacuum tomorrow to remove the dog hair. It's the least I can do, to make up for poisoning her Saturday.

Rain, they say

Today was a gift from Heaven: Lows last night around 50, highs today 70.

Perfect.

Tomorrow may be similar; after that, we're supposed to get rain every day for the next five days, and plenty of it.

I think Cliff and I should go on a nice motorcycle ride tomorrow, before he has to leave for work at 2:30.

After all, it may be the last ride for awhile.

What do you think?

A delightful storm

This year, Mother Nature has been quite generous with precipitation... up until August. This month, the whole world simply dried up. I've been watering my baby Norway Spruce trees, as well as the lilac bush and the burning bush I recently bought. No worries about grass; we haven't planted any back here yet. Oh, there's the clover/orchard grass mix that was here when this was a pasture, but with all the traffic that's involved with building and moving, that's pretty well shot.

Yesterday all day long, the weather-guessers excitedly blathered on about possible heavy storms. When we're going through a dry spell, I tend to block all that out, because I just don't believe the forecasts.

Along toward evening, though, distant thunder grew closer and raindrops started falling. My dog, scared of storms, cowered behind my chair, and I settled in to enjoy the storm. Then the electricity went out. Now let's face it, there isn't much you can do in such a case to keep yourself busy. At my house, you can't even flush the bathroom stool more than once, because we're on a well, and an electric pump brings water to the house.

I remembered my Blackout Buddy, which supplies me with light and a radio in such emergencies. Trouble is, I never listen to the radio, and couldn't find a station I liked. I remembered Cliff talking about a show he listens to at work on his MP3 player: Delilah. But I didn't know what station to look for; so I called him on the cell phone, at work, to see where it's found on the dial. Turns out it was KUDL, a soft-rock station.

I don't know when I've enjoyed a storm so much. Just me and my frightened dog in the safe cocoon of home which has, of late, become my favorite place to be.

The power was out for an unusually long time, and I went to bed sometime after nine, still with no lights.

We got three quarters of an inch of much-needed rain.

family time

Our son, from Georgia, has been here since last Saturday, and will stay until Sunday morning. He and Cliff have spent lots of quality time in Cliff's shop, doing chores that they both seem to enjoy. We're babysitting Cliff's sister's hubby's Mahindra tractor, so Cliff and Jim have replaced its vital fluids and walked around the beast, admiring it's bulk and power. Yesterday, with rain coming toward us, Cliff washed it until the red paint positively shone. He washed the Sidewinder mower, too. My youngest granddaughter stepped in some mud made by the half-inch of rain that was supposed to go north of us, so Cliff told her to toss them in a bucket so he could wash them. The girl has half-a-dozen pairs of shoes here; I'm sure she has more at home. Can you see the granddaughter in this picture? This mobile home has three bedrooms, but I turned one into my computer room. Our couch makes a bed, but we found that Lyndsay is awakened easily once we're all awake chatting around her. So I put an air mattress in the computer room floor for her and whoever is staying the night with her. Anyway, Lyndsay is actually on the floor between the mattress and the bookcase. See?

Oh, last night we got more rain. A full inch, this time. I wish I could share with someone who needs it.

Lyndsay has been riding Blue in the round pen; she's quite the cowgirl. To see a video of her riding, click HERE.

Rainstorms and Rediscovered Music

Friday morning when we headed out for Branson with two granddaughters, this is how the sky looked. Talking to Cliff's sister on the cell phone later, we found the skies at home had cleared up nicely; but all the way to Branson and after our arrival there, this is what we witnessed.



About a half-hour before we reached our destination, we stopped in Ozark, Missouri, at Lambert's... the home of "throwed rolls". It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, but it turned out to be one of the girls' favorite things. The food there is home-cooking good, the portions are huge, and it's fun to catch rolls being thrown at you across the room. Even if you're a horrible catcher like me. Besides, it's a great place to be on a rainy day, even if you have to wait 45 minutes to be seated.

After a sunny Saturday doing the usual Branson things (go-carts, music show, shopping) we dropped the girls off at their other grandma's in Carthage yesterday morning and noticed storms gathering once again, as you see in the above picture.

Cliff has lots of CD's in the car in three different types of storage containers. One of those had been pretty much forgotten, so we enjoyed old country albums we hadn't heard in years, literally: Willie Nelson's "Red-Headed Stranger", which tells a complete story if you listen to every song; Roger Miller's Greatest Hits; depressingly sad Vern Gosdin; and one of Cliff's favorite singers, Ricky Van Shelton. That's who was singing when the deluge it us, south of Oak Grove. For a little taste of our drive home in the rain, click HERE.

Strange sight in the rain

Granddaughter Natalie and I saw something in the yard at noon today that made us both laugh out loud and sent me running for the camera.

It's a monster!!!

Oh, wait. It's Cliff in shorts and work shoes with a trash bag over his head to keep from getting soaked in the rain.

He had to laugh when he realized he was being photographed. Bless his heart, he puts up with a lot of humiliation, being married to a blogger.

More than one way to haul hay

We've had rain come along at frequent, inconvenient intervals lately. Inconvenient if you have hay to harvest, anyhow. Cliff got our alfalfa put up without a hitch, but it's been impossible to get the orchard grass/clover patch done. The orchard grass has already gone to seed; the clover would be OK for hay except it's grown so tall and tangled, the mower really struggles to get through it. In fact, a belt on the mower couldn't stand the strain Saturday; it broke, which stopped the mowing abruptly. Tractor dealers aren't open after noon on Saturday, so there was no replacing the belt right then. Cliff has plenty of things to do these days, so he simply went on to other items on his "to-do list".

The hay needs to stay dry and cure for two or three days. Sunday afternoon the forecasters began calling for lots of rain; Cliff decided that certain portions of the mowed hay could be baled, and started in, with help from a couple of neighbor boys. It's easier to recruit young men to help if there's a four-wheeler involved: I'm guessing that's why they're using that instead of a tractor, but there may be other factors involved. Cliff's asleep, so I can't ask. Click on the pictures to make them larger.

This picture was taken right out my back door. Obviously, Cliff still has dirt work to do in the back yard. But I love that I can see the hayfield from the house.

I actually took this shot from inside. Some hay-wagon, eh?

We got almost two inches of rain overnight, so it's good that Cliff and the boys salvaged some of the hay. Of course, there's still hay to cut, although the quality deteriorates a little every day.

Things I love about living "out behind the barn":
1. It's so QUIET! I barely hear road noises at all here, even motorcycles.
2. I don't have dogs in the yard all the time. I've only seen one dog, the neighborhood retarded boxer, approach the place a couple of times. I can play Frisbee with Sadie without worrying that she'll see a stray dog and run off chasing it.
3. The dust storm that's raised each time a vehicle rounds the curve on our gravel road doesn't make it back here.
4. I can often look out the window and see my horses.
5. I don't have kids cutting through the yard, looking in the windows.
6. The solitude. I used to love that poem with the line, "Let me live in a house by the side of the road and be a friend to man...".

These days, my attitude is this: "Let me live in a house far from the road; and please stay off my land."

Yeah, I'm a hermit. More so with each passing year.

Embarq

I've spent much of my afternoon on the phone with Embarq.

On May 14, the telephone man came to hook up a phone at our new location. Now, I had told various Sprint employees that we had to have a line run, that our new home is in a location where there's never been a house or a phone. I could tell it wasn't computing with them, but whatever.

The telephone man was supposed to arrive between ten A.M. and noon that day. He finally showed up around 4 P.M., after I made many calls to Sprint. See, they had already turned off DSL and telephone service at the old house. When I called to see why I had no service, they said, "Oh, that's been switched to the new location."

Yeah, the new location with no telephone lines at all. How's that gonna work?

The telephone man ran 500 feet of wire on the ground from the old house, across our back yard behind the shop to the trailer, and had the phone company switch my service back to the old house.

He explained that they'd have to run lines under the road and up here (duh) and he filled out a work order for May 25. When nobody showed up by May 27, I called, but that call was mysteriously disconnected about the time I started raising my voice. Hmmmm.

So today, over two weeks after the 500 feet of line was placed across our yard (very unhandy when Cliff's mowing the yard) I called again. This time even the customer service person seemed shocked at how long it's been, and said they'd have the contractor who does excavation for buried lines call me. Which he did.

He says it's the rain preventing him. Which seems strange, since you could have tilled in the garden most days this week. Yes, we've had some rain, but not that much. Oh, and he just received my work order one week ago. He does live in Springfield, Missouri, about 165 miles from here; so he covers a wide area. Some nearby towns got seven inches of rain a couple of nights ago, while we only got 4/10 of an inch. The guy says he hasn't been able to work all week and is going to work Father's Day weekend; by the time I hung up, I was feeling sorry for him. At least I do have a telephone and Internet, so far.

I will say, this puny line has been working for me. The telephone man who strung it across the yard told me my DSL probably wouldn't work like this, but so far it hasn't failed me (knock wood).

Anyhow, the contractor said he'd do his best to get the line in next week.

I've fought this issue for so long, it's getting to the point that I don't much care. As long as my Internet works, that is.