Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Summer. Summer. Summer.

There's not much to report on at the moment, here in late July in rural Kansas. 

Dullsville. 

Ruttsville. 

The weather, they say, is mild (I am STILL hot).  We are watering gardens and such every day.  The farmers are irrigating every day.  I kind of take my lead from them: if they are watering, well, then, so am I. 

In addition to the 169 lavender plants I put in this summer (The Summer of Lavender), I also declared it the Year of the Perennial.  Whether it was the lavender field (weeding, tilling, making troughs with a shovel, planting on hands & knees, weeding, coddling on hands & knees) or my age (54?) or the heat and wind (definitely), I am tired of the annual Planting of the Flowers.  Annuals, being the operative word.  Annuals must be put in every year.  The positive of annuals is that they flower all spring, summer, and fall.  Perennials, on the other hand, need only be planted once (with luck & a prayer), and the bloom for a few weeks each summer. But, with luck & the prayer, they will hang around indefinitely and bring joy each and every summer to one's garden.

Sadly, I think it's the "54" thing.  My knees hurt.

But!  Enough of that nonsense.  In other news, I feel like I have been inundated with negativity of late.  So much so that in my morning prayer today, I asked God to make sure I am a Positive Polly each day.  I don't want to be a 54 year-old Negative Nancy. 

I just looked out the window to across the field where a man on a tractor is taking a huge drink of water from his thermos.  He is cutting/baling hay.  Interesting that he is making small square bales (what we always ask for ) as opposed to the big round bales more prevalent these days. Our hay man stopped by yesterday to tell me that he will not be cutting our hay this summer - too short, too meager.  This is not a concern of ours, really. When we had horses, we wanted grass in the pasture.  Now that we are equine-less, the hay man benefits from our field much more than we do. 

Here's a happy:  Two of our kids are winging back from Australia this week, after having visited the Aussie Grands and extended family for a month.  Gillian is heading directly to her new museum job in Colorado, two days after arrival (Jet lag, anyone?), and Graham will retrieve his car and head back to Washington state and commence his post-grad/post vacay job hunt.   All happy, all positive.

Friday, July 25, 2014

Frightful

Oh, the weather outside is frightful,
But inside is so delightful,
And since there's no place to go...
Please raise your glass to the guy who invented the AC.



Thursday, July 24, 2014

Manhattan Women's Thursday Rides

Last summer a cycling friend, Diane, organized a women's bike ride during the summer months.  It was a hit!  We slacked off during August, heat being what it is, and we called the cycling season good.

This summer, Diane once again organized the group.  I help out by posting notices on Facebook.  This morning's ride held ten cyclists: a group of women who run the spectrum of life: Teachers, self-employed (that would be me), grad student, minister, physician, and more.  What a fun group.  We enjoy the camaraderie of riding and learning about each other.  Would I call us all close friends?  No.  We're fun sporty friends, the ones we can share the outdoors and funny anecdotes with.  We tell funny stories on our rides, as well as discuss politics and civic news.  Just a fun time to be had by all.

We are hoping to keep the group going at least through the autumn months: what a great time to ride!

On another note, this one quite bucolic:

That Spouse o' Mine came home and I was out watering things.  I called to him, and then I said, "I hear sheep."

"Sheep?" he replied.

"Yes.  Sheep.  I hear sheep.  Baa-aaah" 

And that is where we left it.

Well.  Fast-forward an hour, and I thought I heard a call to prayer, Moslem-style, from a high minaret.  "This cannot be,"  I thought to myself.  How can I hear sheep and then a call to prayer?  I am not in the Middle East (although I follow the goings-on like a native.)

Just after I heard what I thought was a call to prayer, my neighbor Barb came round our corner with a pickup and a trailer carrying - YES! - a lamb.  The lamb was not at all happy to be going to the County Fair tonight.  Baaa-aaaah!

Somehow, from the 2nd floor, this bleating sounded like Call to Prayer which I came to embrace back our Egypt days.

And that's all I have. 

Tomorrow's temps are forecast around 108ยบ.  I am not amused.

Monday, July 21, 2014

One Hundred

They lie, they lie.
It is NOT fair.
It is stinkin' hot and windy.

Friday, July 18, 2014

A Bedtime Story

Once there was a little duck.  She was a cute little duck who ran around the yard with her little duck friends, all of them chasing June bugs and grasshoppers, willy-nilly, all over the place.  One day, the little duck sat down under a big old pine tree.  When she got up, there was a pretty white egg laying on the pine needles.

The little duck did this again and again over the next few days, as did her little duck friends.  They had a nice collection of pretty white duck eggs!



One day came that the little duck decided she wanted to keep the pretty white eggs warm and protected, so she decided to set on them.  She built a neat little nest out of pine needles, and that's where she sat, day and night, keeping her egg collection dry and warm.




After a couple of weeks, the duck herdswoman noticed that some of the eggs in the nest were missing.  Hmmm...she thought.  A few days later, she mentioned it to her husband, "There were about a dozen eggs on that nest, and now there are only seven.  Do you suppose something is getting to them?"  He shrugged his shoulders.


Well.  The very next day, the duck herdswoman was walking out by the barn and came upon a very long and pretty snake.  It was FIVE FEET LONG!



The duck herdswoman put two and two together, and came up with "let me go count those eggs again."  And so she did.  There were three pretty white duck eggs laying in the pine needle nest.

Aha!

The very next day, the duck herdswoman looked out to see all the little ducks standing around the big old pine tree.  What was that about?  And so she went outside to see what the ducks were doing.  And this is what she saw:






















 The end.  Sleep tight!
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