Wow! August already. Summer is drawing to a hot and humid end. Very soon those first cold fronts will sneak in and I’ll shake the dust off the jacket to ward away the chill on morning rounds. . . .
Well, I can dream, can’t I? I am so tired of being hot and sweaty and smelly. The chickens are tired of keeping their wings up all day to ventilate. The horses are being eaten by bugs I can’t see. The bees aren’t doing much of anything these days except sitting on their front porches telling tall tales and tossing back homebrew.
I’ve seen a lot of new things this year, but in the past week, the things I’m seeing have taken on an air of queerness.
Take this guy for example:
On the same hive, I found this thing:
A few days later, while trying to clear a path to the side door, I found this guy loafing on the Butterfly Bush.
Then there’s Hubble.
And finally, the horses hooves have gone berserk in the last few days.
And oh yeah, while I am talking about weirdness, a little black rain cloud slobbered on us yesterday. 15/100ths of an inch. Weird!
P.S. This morning, while I was working chickens, the dog started barking. She doesn’t come to the chicken yard, but generally loiters in the shade of the porch while I work. She barked a lot and she kept at it for a long time. It was the “I need help” bark, but I ignored her because well, I was busy with chickens, and there were three lazy kids up at the house who could help her.
My kids don’t speak dog though. They ignored her too. After the chickens were done. I worked the horses and then came up to the house to cool off and get cleaned up for a trip into town. My youngest went with me. When I put the van into reverse we heard a very loud meow. The cat had been trapped in the van overnight and up until about 11:30 this morning.
It was really hot in the van, but surprisingly enough, Mushu didn’t go directly to the water dish. No. He was more hungry than anything else. We’re very glad he’s okay. We could have lost him, considering how long he’d been trapped and how hot it was. I must pay closer attention to what the dog says when she says it. Because by the time I came up to cool off, Moose had forgotten all about the cat. Her attention span is about as long as my memory.