Summer’s No Vacation
Have you ever noticed that things seem to break and generally mess up or need attention in batches, never only one at a time?
We just discovered that one of the bulls is limping. We don’t know why. We’re hoping he’ll recover in time to do a little work next winter. Timing is everything.
The toad relocation program hasn’t been entirely successful. Todd (or Pete) returned a few days ago. There he was, big as life on the breezeway, mere feet from our sleeping dog — in all huge froggy or toady glory, staring at me. By the time I could drop the basket of clothes I had just taken off the line, he had wisely disappeared. I found him (or possibly another of his friends or relations) dug into one of my still-moist flower pots on the back deck. I snatched him out before Stinky the Dog could dig for him. (This decimation of my flowers was the cause of his relocation a couple of weeks ago). Zack found a new home for the amphibian (again). The muddy area below our leaky, overhead water tank probably wasn’t far enough away. This time, he took him farther from the house, near the mud hole that WAS our stock tank during a wet spring and early summer. I expect the other toad that was “in the program” will make an appearance shortly. I suppose this answers my question of whether a toad can find its way home like a dog or cat. Distance probably has a lot to do with it too.
We’ve caught glimpses of at least one dog and two or more cats sneaking around on the property lately. They do NOT belong to US. We hope they’re only passing through or belong to neighbors. I’m restraining myself here from my usual diatribe about folks (not my neighbors) that don’t neuter their animals, then dump and “share” them and their progeny throughout the countryside.
One of our tractor tires was flat this morning. The blades on the lawn mower are dull. A truck just returned from being repaired.
An overabundance of peaches is straining the limbs of our poor, little trees. We should have pruned them more vigorously. It’s been a race to see what will happen first; the ripening of the peaches or the breaking of the limbs. The birds are telling me it’s time to start harvesting. If I don’t, THEY surely WILL. This will mean hours of work picking, cleaning, peeling, pitting and freezing fruit, then homemade crust and cobblers. I love the peaches and cobblers, but I hate the work. (I can see why people in the country had multiple children —they needed the help!)
Zack loves peach cobbler, mainly the crust. He told me that, as a child, he would beg his mother to put in less fruit and use more pastry. I grew tired of watching him leave the filling, so I invented Zack’s Crust-Heavy Cobbler. There’s about an inch or less of filling and at least an inch of latticed crust. Zack is a happy camper. The problem is that it takes just as long to make “Zack’s Cobbler” as any other, and he can devour it in half the time.
This is the month to pick grapes and make jelly and/or wine. More work. (I just did this with plums about five minutes ago). Naturally we didn’t start collecting rain water during the wet spell to use for the wine. I knew I should have planned ahead, even mentioned it. Then I didn’t follow through. I think I might have been busy with something else. And along those lines, the garden needs attention. Seems if I take a day off (to celebrate my daughter’s birthday this time), I find myself far behind in every department.
That wonderful rain we had gave way to a bumper crop of skeeters —which are now eating me alive! The rain also boosted the grass and weeds into high gear again. We just mowed (in tandem) for two or three hours and still didn’t quite finish. I also see weed-eating in my future. Now that the rain’s stopped, the cycle of watering will begin anew.
And to top it all off, the heat (or something) is playing havoc with my computer.
Whine, whine, complain, kvetch (look it up). Oh, poor me. LOL. I could complain vocally locally —right here at home— but no one would be terribly interested. So I’m whining in print. Whatever fool said summer is for vacations obviously never lived in the country!
Gene Ellis, Ed.D is a Bosque County resident who returned to the family farm after years of living in New Orleans, New York, and Florida. She’s an artist who holds a doctoral degree from New York University and is writing a book about the minor catastrophes of life. Check out Genie’s blog at http://rusticramblings.wordpress.com/
