This, too, shall pass.

Recent observations:
1. Rain dances do not work.
2. Praying for rain does not work.
3. Begging for rain does not work.
4. Pretending not to care whether or not it rained does not work.
5. Visualizing a nice drenching, soaking rain does not work.
6. Crying and generally throwing a fit because it didn't rain does not work.
7. Threatening Mother Nature with mean, vindictive insults to try to make it rain does not work.
8. Seeing my  Weatherbug pindot smack in the middle of a red/yellow blotch indicating it SHOULD be raining where I am will no longer elicit excitement from me. IT LIES.
9. Dragging a 100 foot hose from bush to tree to garden plant is almost as good as spending ten minutes on the Wii.
10. One thing is for certain. Nothing lasts forever. This, too, shall pass. The rain will fall again. The grass will one day be green again. One day we will be complaining about too much rain. We'll be praying, and begging for it to stop, and visualizing warm, sunny days instead. Rain will ruin outdoor plans and whining about it will do no good. Crops will be bin-busters again.

Bring it on!!

Now, from the chicken front, I'm happy to report that Opal and her two babies are doing well. They are growing and she is still leading them around the yard and finding tasty morsels to share with them. The other girls are doing well, too. The three new girls, the ameraucanas, should be laying blue eggs in another month or so. They are such sweet birds and like to perch on my hands and arms. When I get the energy to go outside, I'll take pictures to post.

August is shaping up to be a busy month for me. I'll be reporting back on a few adventures. I can only say it involves Nadine the Church Lady, a big high school class party, a trip to St. Louis with our son, and the build-up to a Tour of Homes.  Thank goodness I now have a personal shopper. hahahaha

Blessings,
Brenda in dry-ville

I'm so thankful

This summer has been depressing. It started out with such promise, but turned into the evil step-sister that just demanded attention and care.  Just going about everyday living has been stressful, with heat, drought and all that comes with that, living on a farm and in an old house. I find myself on the verge of getting an attitude, but then try to snap out of it by thinking about how much worse it could be.  At least when I cook I don't have to do this:

Scouring the countryside for buffalo chips for fuel would not be my definition of a good time. I also don't have to do this:

If we had to rely on what I shot for our meals, we'd soon be starving. I guess I could always send Pa out:

I'm thankful that when it's 105 degrees, I can strip down to nearly nothing, and not have to be trussed up in this:

Shoot me now if I have to wear that.  Give me capris and a tank top any day.
I'm thankful that when I go to town, I don't have to hitch horses to the wagon and clip clop for hours. Of course, if we all slowed down, we'd be able to stop and smell the roses, but we'd be smelling something else, too, methinks:

I'm thankful my husband retired from farming, and raising the crops in this dry year is someone else's worry. I do still worry, just not as much as I would have before. It is a struggle and hard work, every year:

If it just won't rain in my neck of the woods, at least I can still give thanks for other things. We are enjoying the last of the pumpkin blossoms tonight. The squash bugs and squash vine borers have pretty much done the vines in. I've already resigned myself to there being no pumpkins, watermelons or cantaloupes raised in my garden this year.  We are enjoying the ripening tomatoes. Keeping them watered is a high priority task. The green beans have seemed to laugh at the dry weather. I'm still picking some every few days. I'm happy others are getting rain. I'm thankful for farmer's markets, and the efforts of others.

Most of all, I'm thankful I'm healthy and able to shrug off this crazy weather year.  Who knew it wouldn't rain for weeks on end?  The well seems to be holding out, thank goodness, and I don't have to haul water from town, or worse yet, in buckets from a spring half a mile away.

I'm thankful there are Kroger's and Aldi's and Walmart's and other bountiful places to shop. I'm thankful I have chickens that gift me with beautiful eggs and their egg songs.


I'm forever thankful for my family, my church family, my friends and the warmth I feel when I'm around them.


Now, excuse me while I go water the maters with my crocodile tears. (hahaha)

Hot, dry blessings,
Brenda

P.S.   Dear Weatherbug. You are a liar. You just can't know how you've played with my emotions this last week. Do not, I repeat, do not show my dot in the middle of a yellow/red blotchy area if you aren't going to deliver the goods. That is just cruel. Thank you for listening. Signed, disgruntled viewer.

Snow in July?

It did cool off some, and even though it may look like it has snowed in our yard, I can assure you I would have been dancing a happy dance if it was cool enough to do that.  No, the security department needed a good grooming. Major, our Great Pyrenees dog, has two layers of hair. In the fall, he grows a dense, fluffy undercoat.  The outside guard hair is coarser and longer and just glistens when it's clean.  Come spring or early summer, these dogs start shedding this inner layer and it comes off in sheets. It takes more than one brushing and one never really gets it all. Major loves to be brushed. He and Boots, our black lab, leap for joy when they see the curry comb. Such funny boys. After about half an hour I had this:

I'm not quite sure what to do with it. I've been told that dog hair placed under plants repels rabbits, but a neighbor came over this spring and got some and she has nary a petunia in her yard, even now. Shot that theory down, I reckon.

I've heard that some have taken this hair and used it like sheep's wool, cleaning, carding, spinning and ultimately weaving and sewing it into something really cool. I would love to wear a sweater made from Major's hair. Any takers? In about an hour, it will have been gathered up and placed in a bag, then in a day or two, if I haven't had any takers, off it goes to the burning barrel.

He's such a pretty dog. I think that sweater looks pretty good on him, too.

He is such a funny dog. Every dog has it's own personality, but we've never had a dog that preferred getting his drinking water from anywhere but the dog water bowl.  I find him drinking out of buckets, mud puddles, and just today found out where all the bird's water was going:

Now, has anyone seen my lint roller?

Blessings,
Brenda

Miscellaneous ramblings

I haven't been posting much lately, but it's been too hot to think. I have to have perfect conditions, the stars have to be in alignment, and the brownies baked before I can really think. And it's too hot to bake anything. It didn't used to be that way.  I could multi-task and thought of myself as a rather dependable sort when it came to memory retention.Now, when in deep thought,  if I also think to write those thoughts down, then I have them to share. Here are a few of my recent scribbles:

1.  It is so much better if I put my glasses on before I paint my toenails instead of after.

2.  I would rather go shopping in a Cracker Barrel store than Von Mauer's.

3.  My eyes are not bigger than my stomach. (hahaha.....*sad*)

4.  If it doesn't cool off and rain soon, my house will implode due to the crush weight of the dust I'm not dealing with.

5.  My bucket list has developed a leak.

6.  My personality changes with every degree hotter it gets. Mild temps with lush, moist greenery=happy.
 Hot and dry = crabby.  This is not a good summer.

7.  When you have a chance to grab a young man with a strong back to help move furniture, don't take no for an answer.

Now, more rambling.

The events of the last few weeks have rocked my chicken world.  I started out with 9 beautiful yr. old hens. I took the plunge and added 3 gorgeous americaunas to the mix. They are just now beginning to get their big-girl combs and it will still be a couple of months before I see blue eggs from them.  Then came Reuben and Miss Eula.  They are banties, and gifts from DS and DDIL. I guess you could call them gifts.... LOL...  Reuben is such a feisty, loving little thing. He lets me pick him up, talk and sing to him, and he crows right back, while I'm holding him.  He's quite the ladies' man, too. Or he would be if they were interested.  Mostly they are interested in running for cover when they see him running towards them. He seems to be uninterested in Miss Eula, even though she is more his size.  Next,  Opal went broody. She wanted babies, so after setting on donated eggs, she got them. Her babies are so cute and seem to be thriving.

They will grow fast. Laverne also became broody, but the eggs she was sitting on didn't hatch, and out of curiosity, because they sounded funny when I shook them, I broke them open. They didn't hatch because they weren't fertilized, but they did contain the nastiest rotten yolks. Imagine having a chicken sitting on you for three weeks in 100 degree heat. Ewwww. Laverne is still broody, sitting on no eggs. I've got news for Laverne. She'll just have to get over it. So, first there were 9, now there are 17. It's called chicken math.

Speaking of 100 degree heat. Again. If I were very wealthy and could afford to live anywhere in the world, I would have a summer home in the Colorado Rockies or the Pacific Northwest, a spring and autumn home in Tennessee or Kentucky or western North Carolina, and my winter home would be somewhere where it gets chilly and I can see my breath, but would not have to worry much about icy roads. I'm open to suggestions. I'll have to give it some thought, then if I can remember to write it down..........
Hot blessings,
Brenda