Sorry, Charlie

Yesterday, as my post indicated, I was pretty resigned to the fact that the horse was probably ours. None of my contacts had turned up anything. A couple of days had gone by. Surely if someone loved this animal they would have turned up by then!

Charlie reaching through the cattle gate in an attempt to nibble on me

The only lead we had was from a guy that lived in a log cabin at the end of a nearby dead-end road. He said that the road picked up again on the other side of the woods and that the people that lived at the very end of that road on the other side of the woods had a horse that sometimes got loose. He said that it didn't have much grass, that they didn't have much of a fence. He wouldn't be surprised if it had gotten out again.

My husband had driven around to that road. The further he drove, the narrower and narrower it got. Eventually the rough blacktop turned into a one lane, overgrown gravel drive. At the crest of a hill he stopped. The narrow lane dropped sharply down and turned immediately to the right. He couldn't see where it went and there was barely enough room for his truck. He balked. 

Around here, everybody seems to have a gun, a "no trespassing" sign, and some dogs, so his hesitance was not unwarranted. He didn't like heading into something unknown, and he had my oldest 2 kids in the truck with him. Somehow he managed to turn around and came home. He looked up the owners' names on the GIS site, but their number was unlisted.

We talked it over last night. He said that if the folks back there lost the horse, we had notified everybody, and if they wanted him back, they would be able to find him. He said that he didn't want to "guilt" someone into taking back a horse that they could no longer afford to feed. After all, none of our kids were going to go hungry if we had to keep him. And we've seen plenty of folks around these parts living in poverty so that they could keep a horse. 

We talked about the possibility of advertising free hay along with the horse, because obviously somebody took care of him and must have loved him. Maybe it was because they loved him that they dumped him where we found him, someplace where he was likely to be taken care of. He was well fed after all, which was no small thing this year. But they must have been hard off if they didn't get the vet work done (his hooves trimmed, his eye taken care of.) In the end we decided that times were so rough that we couldn't trust someone to take the horse because it was theirs. They might take it just for the valuable hay and do the horse in. 

So we were fully resigned last night. The horse was now our responsibility. I think that my husband was secretly relieved. He was fond of the horse. I have to admit that I would have been more attached too, if I had let myself, but somebody needed to be reasonable. He assured me that we would find a new owner for him. I wasn't so sure. I saw how much my husband enjoyed the creature. I wouldn't ask him to give it away, even if it meant more work and less money. And I didn't think anyone would volunteer for the hay bill that horse would require this winter anyway. 

Today at 10:30 in the morning on a Tuesday, a young, scruffy man came to the door. He held out a picture of a horse in his grimy hand. It was a glossy photo and had the words "Lost Horse" in white lettering across the bottom, followed by some other writing that I didn't bother to read because my head was racing with thoughts. 

The really fancy photo and lettering didn't match the ill-kept man. But the blurry photo looked vaguely like the horse in my barn, and how many lost horses could there be? I interrupted his dejected spiel about the lost horse to say that I had found a horse. As I stepped out the door, an older woman called out from the white Chevy Blazer in the drive, "She has him?!" 

"Well she has somebody's lost horse," he replied, none to excitedly. A gray-haired lady immediately leapt out of the vehicle with a lead rope in her hand and joined us as we walked to the barn. I explained how he had turned up on Saturday and how we had alerted everybody we could think of. They didn't say anything. 

I mentioned that he was wearing a green halter. The woman spoke up excitedly, "That's him. That has to be him. His name is Cy." They explained that they lived at the end of a dead end road and that the logging that was going on near their place had scared him, that he had bolted, that they hadn't been able to catch him.

When we walked into the barn, Charlie (as my husband had started calling him) trotted into his stall and pushed his nose through the bars to nibble at my sleeve as I stroked his nose. Then I slid open the door and the man approached the horse with the lead rope. Charlie hesitated. It wasn't an excited reunion. 

The man clipped the rope to the halter. I didn't look at him. I tried not to look at the horse anymore either. For some reason I didn't want to see either of their faces. Instead I glanced back at the woman. She was looking around the pole barn with wide eyes and chatting about our goats. I felt guilty as we stood there next to the 4 horse stalls, only one occupied... by the aforementioned goats. For a moment I thought about offering to keep him. 

They were taking Charlie back to a barbed wire pen in the woods, probably, given the scars on his chest. Neither of them worked a job with standard hours. Did they even have jobs in this down economy? I thought about how much the horse ate while here. I thought about the fact that multiple generations seemed to be living in the same house. My heart ached. What should I do? How could I even tactfully offer to keep him? How would it not sound insulting, condescending, or downright rude?

But then Charlie quietly acquiesced and peacefully stepped from the stall. He followed the man meekly down the gravel drive as they discussed the upcoming long walk home. They complimented me on my house as we walked along. So I became more embarrassed. I tried to return the conversation to their horse. I said something about being glad to have reunited him to his owners, that I knew someone must have been looking for him. My heart wasn't in it. It was almost a lie. 

But the lady flashed me a toothless smile and assured me that her granddaughter had been beside herself, that Cy was her baby. I felt a moment of relief. At least some broken hearted girl would be reunited with her horsey love. Then I noticed that there was someone else in the back of the Blazer. Was it the granddaughter? It was definitely a child. The windows were tinted. I couldn't tell. 

They thanked me again and I hurried into the house, having left the 3 year old under the care of the 13 year old for longer than I was comfortable with, and because if I stayed outside any longer, I might do something rash. I was conflicted about what the right thing to do was. I was uncomfortable with the strangers, the small talk. So I rushed in and told the kids about the horse going home. My youngest son ran to the storm door and watched them go. I couldn't. My 13 year old looked disappointed, but nodded his head like it was what he knew would happen. "They look kind of rough," he mumbled in a concerned tone.

I immediately regretted that I hadn't thought to offer them hay or to give them our number or something. Somehow we hadn't even introduced ourselves to each other properly. Then I thought to get my camera in order to document the goodbye for my husband who was at work, my husband who had to drive the long commute to Indianapolis this morning to be at a meeting that started at 8 AM, my husband that had gotten up early to tend the horse before he left. But I saw no sign of the horse or the man leading him anywhere on our long driveway. Had they cut through the woods? The blazer was rumbling down the drive throwing up a cloud of dust. I sighed and I didn't bother to snap a picture.

Then a lot of other thoughts tumbled through my mind. If it was the granddaughter in the car, why wouldn't she have raced to the barn to see her beloved horse or at least let out an excited whoop? They didn't come looking for him until days after his loss. So was their logging story a ruse? Did they even know he was gone until yesterday? If they didn't realize until now that he was gone, how well could they be taking care of him? 

Maybe the story was true. I have been hearing chain saws in the distance. But then, why didn't they look for him immediately? They watched him run off in our direction through the woods on Saturday and didn't start enquiring until Tuesday? Did they really want him? They never called the sheriff, the extension office, the nearby forestry office, the horse shelter, or the 4-H group. 

Also, all of our neighbors knew about the horse. Many of them are retired and home during the day, so wouldn't the owners have come here expecting to retrieve the horse? Or were we the first place they inquired? It just didn't "add up." Did some young girl, not understanding the burden the horse was to her family guilt them into looking for him? Were they going through the motions just to placate her? Did they come to my door knowing I had the horse, but hoping I wouldn't admit it? They had made door-to-door visits in the middle of a week day. Maybe that was because there was less chance of someone being home to return their horse. Did they not really want him? 

But the woman had sounded relieved. And they had that picture. But maybe that picture was from one of the other times he had run off? I am full of doubts and worries. 

Ugh! Sorry Charlie!

Gift Horse

It's been nearly 2 days, and there haven't been any inquiries about the stray horse. My husband has met some new "neighbors" on our quest to find the horse's owner. Every other person seems to own a horse around here, and most people seem to know the other horse owners. But nobody is owning up to losing a horse or knowing of someone else who has. The Sheriff's Dept. hasn't had any calls for lost horses. The nearest horse rescue place hasn't referred anyone to us. 

I just submitted a classified ad to our local newspaper.  I may even enquire to see if they'd like to run a story on him. I'm just hesitant about the loss of privacy that would cause. I contacted the local extension office and the Horse and Pony section of the local 4-H. (They have it posted on their Facebook pages.) I've left information with the local state forrest office. I suppose that now it's time to print flyers to post at the local feed store, grocery store, on telephone poles, etc. Of course I'll need to buy ink for my printer first. And of course, I don't really expect handbills or posters to make a difference.

Horses need a lot of care. They can't really be left more than a weekend on their own. I know that much. So we figured that if we didn't hear from somebody returning from a weekend trip last last night or early this morning only to find their horse gone, that we'd probably not hear from anyone. There's an outside chance that the horse spooked and ran a long way before settling down, and that word hasn't spread far enough yet, but it doesn't seem very likely. For one thing, he wasn't lathered or out of breath when he turned up. It seems to me that either he was either intentionally dumped near our place, turned loose from his pen on purpose, or got out on his own but his owners are sort of relieved that he's gone and don't plan on looking for him. 

My husband has now named him Charlie. The Brown part is implied. I may be doomed to life with a large, needy "pet" about which we have no knowledge and for which we have no use. So now I'm looking at the proverbial gift horse in a new light. Yes, his coat is shiny. Yes, he is well-fed. No, he isn't a sway-back. But his right eye has some clouding. He isn't shoed, and his hooves are chipped and beginning to split. And he quintupled the number of flies in the barn in a matter of hours. He has also drunk about 15 gallons of water a day. The bucket has required many refills. And there goes our hay, which is commanding a good price. Sigh. (Not that we would have sold it for top dollar anyway. Most likely we'd have sold it for half of it's value to our neighbors.)

I haven't looked in his mouth, as the saying goes, but I recently read that if I want to know his age, I'll have to look closely at his teeth. And there are so many other questions. Like, is he broken for the saddle? But then those sorts of questions are probably irrelevant anyway. None of us know how to ride, and as a pregnant woman that's pretty much out for me in the foreseeable future. Even caring for him seems risky for me. The very real possibility of being a horse owner (without any preparation or choice) is sinking in.

Horsin' Around

There's rarely a dull day here at the homestead. Meet our latest adventure, a young, dark brown gelding with a black mane and tail, and a white coronet/foot. No, we didn't purchase a horse. We're not that crazy.... yet. This guy is a stray. Hopefully he won't stay long. (City folks get stray cats and dogs. Rural folks get stray dogs, cows, and horses.) 

My husband stopped to get the mail today, and this horse was hanging out near our mailbox. After enquiring at the neighbors to see if they were missing one, and having no luck, he was heading back to the horse wondering what he should do next when a young woman driving by stopped to help. Her grandfather lives near us, and she used to keep her horses on the empty land next to us. She didn't recognize the horse, but thought he was very young. 

After calling her father for advice, it was decided that we should keep him until the owners turned up, and that he should be reported to the sheriff. We do have three empty horse stalls after all. Since she was so knowledgable and experienced with horses, she helped my husband to walk the horse up to our barn. (He had the oldest 2 kids with him and his truck too, after all.) She took a picture of him, took down my husband's name and number, and promised to stop by the Sheriff's office with the information while he set up the animal with hay and water.

My husband then called another neighbor who has horses in order to start spreading the word. She volunteers at the local horse rescue place. We plan on dropping a picture of him off there tomorrow. If no one shows up soon, she promised to give us a tutorial on horse care.

We also plan to check in with the Sheriff's office tomorrow, canvass everyone on our road, and call the man we know who used to run the horse section of the local 4-H chapter. (His daughter runs it now.) That ought to get word to any owners who might be looking for a horse. If no one contacts us tomorrow, I suppose we'll arrange to put a classified ad in the local paper on Monday.

In the meantime, my husband is making excuses to go out to the barn. He's clearly smitten already. My 3 year old, who is terrified of the goats, petted him. My 13 year old son practically volunteered to clean up after him and feed and water him. My 4 year old has decided we should name him Cocoa or maybe Brownie. It won't be long before my 9 year old daughter is besotted too. After all, she is the appropriate age for the stereotype.

As for me, I have to admit that I find horses appealing. After all, I remember sitting in the bleachers next to the dusty horse ring at the local fair with my little sister, the horse lover. Affection for them rubs off. I also remember riding a few times at my uncle's neighbors. Horses are strong, intelligent, communicative, graceful... I mean, you have to respect a creature that manages to look noble despite looking at you with grass hanging out of its mouth. 

But I'm pretty pragmatic and practical. I would never choose to get a horse. Horses are big animals that require lots of care and specialized knowledge (that we don't have.) They eat a small fortune's worth. But before I start a litany, let's just sum it up and say that my cons list would far outweigh a pros list.

I'm hopeful that the owners will come claim him quickly, before my family finds it difficult to part with him. I hope even more that he wasn't turned loose due to the crazy feed prices and water problems. It seems a little suspect that he turned up at the end of our driveway... a place that was a horse ranch for 17 years. After all, the locals know that the newbies don't have any horses and that we have hay, etc. It's akin to having a baby dropped on our doorstep

But his ribs aren't showing. His coat is in good shape. He's wearing a halter. And stallions are known for causing a little trouble. I've been telling myself all afternoon that he probably just jumped a fence or loosened a gate. I hope that's true, and that we aren't saddled with a horse that we never planned to have. I really don't need any more to worry about, care for, or spend money on. But I guess there could be worse things to befall us. He is a beauty. 

Drought

This bird bath rests on the cap to our septic tank.
So the green you see in the background is localized.

It was another insulting afternoon. The thunder rolled in. The clouds darkened. It spat a bit, but not enough to wet the cement patio completely or even to drip down the downspouts. Then the thunder and clouds rolled away. 

Such is the story of our summer. It has been so hot and so dry for so long, that the deer come to eat over our septic tank and its drainage field. It's the only green grass around! I have actually photographed the area from above so that if our septic system ever fails, I have a "map" of the drainfield and its fingers!

The weather has been so unfavorable this year that the county I live in has been declared a natural disaster area by the USDA. Public service bulletins keep advertising how to conserve water since reservoirs are drying up (not to mention the wells.) More and more farm ponds have completely dried up. Our trees have been dropping leaves and yellowing for over a month. There are quite a few dead limbs, and I expect there will be quite a few dead trees next year. Birds are already flocking and migrating.

I couldn't quickly find data for my sparsely populated neck of the woods, but a ten day old blurb from Indianapolis (about an hour northeast of us) will give you an idea of records for this year.

INDIANAPOLIS (WISH) - Central Indiana is in the midst of record-breaking heat and drought.

Forecast 8 Meteorologist Ken Brewer said so far, Indianapolis has tied or broken 12 records, and it’s only the middle of July. The area is also on pace to break several more records in the days ahead.

Here is a list of Records tied or broken so far with information from the National Weather Service in Indianapolis;

Longest Dry Spell (No measurable rain in Indianapolis):

• June 1 – Current
• Old Record: 45 (Aug. 13 – Sept. 26, 1908)

Warmest Streak for Overnight Lows Above 70 degrees:

• 20 straight days (current)
• Old Record: 20 (June 26 — July 15, 1921)

Driest June Ever:

• 0.09 inches of precipitation
• Old Record: 0.36 inches of precipitation (1988)

Record High Temps:

• June 28 (104 degrees)
• June 29 (103 degrees)
• June 30 (97 degrees) (Tied)
• July 5 (103 degrees)
• July 6 (105 degrees)
• July 7 (105 degrees)
• July 16 (98 degrees) (Tied)

Warmest Six Months Average Temperatures

• January – June 2012
• Old Record: January-June 1880

Hottest June Day Ever:

• 104 degrees (June 28, 2012)

Brewer said Indianapolis could possibly break the record for the most number of days with highs 90 degrees or higher. The record is 58 days set back in 1983. Tuesday will mark day 31 in 2012 of 90 degrees or higher.

  (http://www.wishtv.com/dpp/news/local/marion_county/heat-drought-smashes-indianapolis-records) 

This report states that their hottest day was 105 degrees fahrenheit, but I know that we hit at least 108 degrees here. I also know that it hit 113 one day in my home town in Iowa in early July (two states away.) To folks in the southwest, these temps are probably not very impressive. But I assure you that contending with them when the humidity level is 85% in the morning and about 50% at the hottest part of the day is challenging, especially when the nighttime lows have been high too. It has not been nice weather for me to be pregnant and nauseous in. (The temperature which our heat pump/air conditioner can keep it indoors is proportional to the outside temperature.) As my midwife stated, "It's been brutal, because there is just never a break."

My husband has been tracking the local going rate for hay, since we raise it as a cash crop. As of last night, round bales of grass hay were selling for $65 dollars a piece. Square bales of grass hay were selling for $10. Round bales of corn stalks are being sold for cattle feed for $45 per round bale. "Very weedy grass square bales suitable for cattle" were being sold for $4. I hate to think what a good bale of alfalfa is going for! If we could keep from being generous, kind-hearted suckers, we could make a killing on our good quality first cutting grass hay come January! (So far we have been overly generous to our neighbors. And I suppose we will continue to be :)

Most people don't need to supplement hay until pastures freeze in the fall. This year, due to the lack of green pastures, they have been supplementing for the last month or more, starting sometime in June instead of what is customarily the middle of October. And due to the drought, only those who baled early got any hay, and there won't be a second cutting. Many local cattle farmers have simply sold their animals early before they were properly finished. They simply couldn't afford to feed them, let alone manage to water them when the creeks and ponds are dry. And some farmers, as I indicated above, have lost their crops of corn and are baling them in order to sell them as fodder since they aren't worth leaving in the field for the rest of the usual growing season.

A friend of mine in Wisconsin described the corn fields as looking like palmetto fields. It's a good description. A cousin in Arizona asked when the midwest became the new Sonoran Desert. She said our weather was similar to AZ during June before they get their monsoon. If only it were as arid here!

This is my lawn. It is crispy, dusty, and brown. 

So at this point, I want to voice my gratefulness for having some sort of air conditioning, a deep well that has not run dry, a pond that has not dried up, and no loss of livestock due to the extreme temperatures. I also want to ask for your prayers for those hit hardest by this drought. And if you're not one who prays, perhaps you might consider at least appreciating what you have. Think of families who now have no running water in their homes. (I know one.) Think about folks who do not have any air conditioning. (I know several families who do not.) Think of the cattlemen who can't feed and water their animals or who have lost them to heat stroke. Think of farmers whose crops are a total loss, and who have already suffered through last year's losses caused by the flooding that was followed by drought conditions. Think of horse owners struggling to feed their animals before the cold weather even sets in. They are already being squeezed by gas prices and increasing food prices. Now hay prices are skyrocketing too. (My husband read me a request from an elderly gentleman offering to trade a hay wagon for two round bales of hay for his granddaughter's horse.) 

This is a widespread drought, and I predict that produce and meat prices will skyrocket this fall. Many processed food stuffs may be affected as well, as so many are dependent upon ingredients which are derivatives of corn. I think that this crisis may only be beginning. So if you've only been mildly affected, perhaps it's time to count your blessings, like that hokey song from the movie White Christmas.


When I'm worried and I can't sleep
I count my blessings instead of sheep
And I fall asleep counting my blessings
When my bankroll is getting small
I think of when I had none at all
And I fall asleep counting my blessings

That's what I'm prompted to do.

Birthday

The morning of my birthday dawned cool and foggy. The day before had been the first day under 90 degrees in a month, so we had slept with the windows open. After such a long stretch of running the air conditioning to cope with the humid, high temps (many of them triple digit) I was not accustomed to the night noises of our new place. I took a very long time to drift off to sleep, and I woke many times in the night. 

First I was awakened by what sounded like a scream. Maybe it was a bobcat, fox, or mountain lion. Maybe it was a deer that had become "dinner" because I was later roused by a pack of coyotes that yipped, yapped, and howled for about 45 minutes. At about 3 in the morning I was disturbed by what sounded like a drag race on the distant highway. You get the idea. So I was up with the neighbor's rooster that started crowing at 5:45.

My husband had been gone for business the majority of the previous 2 weeks. And he hit the ground running on the backlog of work when he returned. So we were out of groceries, as I had not managed to pull off a full run with my 4 kids in tow yet. I quietly got dressed and headed out for some staples. This is what I was met with.

The cool morning was refreshing. Bullfrogs were croaking in the pond. Crickets were creaking their tired songs. Birds were greeting the light of a new day with enthusiasm.  Rabbits scampered off the driveway and road. A raccoon scurried across the blacktop to get out of the way of my vehicle. Cows lowed and lumbered along the fence.

The town was shrouded in fog. The streets were empty. The farmer's market wasn't even beginning to set up yet. So it was me at the store with a couple of frowzy headed, bleary eyed teenagers.

I came home and made whole wheat coconut waffles served with fresh fruit and pineapple juice. It was nice to have the family together for breakfast again. It was a good start to a birthday.

Speaking of birthdays, in another 6 months or so, my family will celebrate another birthday, God willing. I'm 12 weeks along now, and due to give birth on the last day of January. Anyone who knows me knows that I deliver chronically late, though. So realistically I'll probably make an announcement sometime during the second week in February. 

Watch Like a Hawk

First off, let me satiate your curiosity by telling you what I learned about the snake... which is nothing. I tried to remove the skin from the hole in the wall, but it seems to hang down on the other side and is snagged on something or is held down by something. My efforts at removing it were tearing the skin. So it is still hanging there in case I can think of some other method of removing it intact.

The eyesore left by the previous owners finally gets put to use!

After the snake discovery, I guess it is no surprise that there was a big hawk hanging out close to my house all day yesterday. I noticed it first from the kitchen window as I prepared breakfast. I herded the kids to the dining room window, where the short ones could see, and we all gawked at it while it preened and scanned the area for a meal. Then it flew down behind a copse of trees and snatched something. After that it unsuccessfully stalked crows out in the hay field, and was eventually joined by a mate or one of its offspring at the tree line. We got hungry, so we quit straining our eyes and ate.

But later in the day, as I was standing up from emptying clothes out of the dryer, I was startled to see a hawk watching my every move. It sat on the lowest branch of a tree on the near side of the board fence (as opposed to the hawk sighting of the morning on the satellite dish that is on the far side of the board fence and in the hay field.) And through the screen room and the storm door to the laundry room, it was eyeing me intently. It was a bit unnerving. I think I exclaimed out loud in surprise and wonder. I scurried for the camera and tried to capture the look it was giving me, but unfortunately cut its head out of the shot. But you get the idea.

Here is another view of the bird in the back yard. I had moved to a different window so as to not scare it off.

It eventually flew to the board fence by the fire ring.

After a time, it swooped down and caught a mouse, mole, or other small mammal.

Then it proceeded to eat it in a tulip poplar in the little copse of trees near the fire pit.

After a time it flew off into the woods.

I've tried my hand at identifying it, and let me tell you, I am no good at bird identification in this case. This hawk had a lot of white flecks on it's head. It had dark "cheeks." It had a white "chin." It's underside was mostly white, especially under the tail, but its breast was flecked. The tail was banded, not reddish.  And the wings had a band of reddish brown on them. My best guess is that this is a juvenile red tailed hawk, especially because red tails are so common. Maybe one of you smart people out there can give me a firm answer.

Whatever it was, it was exhilarating to witness such a wild creature so close at hand and so unexpectredly. Even laundry is exciting at our new house :) 

Snake Skin

Snakes are a part of living next to the woods. All of the snakes I have seen have been small and harmless so far, but I've seen a fair number- or at least the evidence of them. I've bent over to pick up a stick from the cement pad next to the garage, only to have it suddenly flex and slither away.

I've come upon shed snake skins in beds of ivy, in the grass, and in the loft of the hay barn.

I nearly stepped on a snake that had stretched itself along one of the wooden steps leading from the garage into "the stone room" (an old breezeway that's been converted to living space) as I carried in groceries. (The garage door had been left open for a few hours.) I've found their leathery, soft eggs when moving bricks from the gigantic pile the previous owners left. 

But it is still unnerving to come across small ones suddenly... or to come across this.

This is a snake skin... a long snake skin of substantial size, trailing from a previously unnoticed hole in the limestone wall of my garage. It's about two inches across and I can see maybe two feet.

It stretches from the opening, down to the ground, and along to the pipe on the right hand side of the picture. That end is large and open, maybe the head end? But there is nothing that looks like a head. It's probably a rat snake that was after a field or deer mouse that entered that hole. Or maybe it was just a random snake seeking a cool spot on one of these never ending triple digit/ninety-plus days. But a snake in the wall of my garage, which attaches to my house, is not cool. Yug. It's bad enough to know that we get the periodic mouse that we have to deal with. Again, that's a fact of country life. But snakes in the walls of my house?  

I'm hoping it was leaving at least, and not shedding as it entered. One of these days, when it isn't so brutally hot, I'll make an effort to go out there earlier in the day and gently pull the skin out so that I can see if it is possible to determine if it was going in our out, and if it was a dangerous one. But so far I have passed this skin for three days at dusk, on my way to the barn to close up the goats, and haven't had the gumption. 

The only dangerous snakes I have to worry about here are copperheads and timber rattlers. They are pit vipers. I've already taught my oldest two children to avoid them and how to identify them if they can't. As I mentioned at the bottom of this previous post, my children go out in tall rubber boots with instructions to step onto logs and then down- instead of simply stepping over them, to never reach under a log or into a hole or cave without prodding it first with a good, long stick.

According to a post I stumbled upon from a pest control place, you can tell if a snake skin is from a rattler or copperhead by looking at the scale pattern on the underside of  it behind the anus or ventor. If there is a double row of scales, then you're in the clear, if not, you have a venomous snake on the loose nearby. And of course, if there is a tail tip to the skin, you can automatically rule out a rattler. I'll let you know what I turn up, but if this close up is any indication, the answer doesn't look good.

Hot and Dry

It has been hot and dry here... really hot and really dry. For example, yesterday the heat index was 116 and the actual temperature was 106 degrees fahrenheit! Our local public radio station was featured on the national NPR news broadcast this evening concerning the long run of high temps. According to that report, when the public pool opened yesterday morning the water temperature was 91 degrees! And a friend who went swimming said the water temperature was 97 degrees when she was there! Cows are passing out from heat stroke. Blacktop roads are buckling. We've had almost 20 days with record high temps so far this year. Many of the records that were broken were set in the early 30's during the dust bowl period.

As far as the drought goes, we're about 20 inches of precipitation below average for the last 12 months. And recently? Normal rain for May/June is 10 inches. We've had less that 2 inches and not a drop in 36 days until today. Burn bans have been issued in nearly every county of our state. Many municipalities even cancelled fireworks displays! Local ponds and wells have dried up. There have been limits on water consumption during certain hours in some cities. And just a few days ago there was a wildfire that burnt 30 acres in a nearby state park.

With the drought and the extreme heat, all the animals were starting to behave weirdly. The squirrels have been thrashing in the lawn, chasing their tales, and draping themselves on various objects in death-like positions. Birds of various kinds were perching in rows on the board fence, holding their wings out, holding their beaks open, and panting. The deer were moving at odd times of the day.

For example, I had a deer ram the side of my vehicle one night despite my best efforts. She stepped into the field of my headlights from the ditch. Thankfully I was on a rare straight stretch of road. I slammed on my breaks and moved into the opposite lane, as there were no cars coming. Nevertheless, she rammed into the passenger side door, making a tremendous thudding noise. I turned at the first chance and drove back to see if I had injured her, but she was gone and there were no signs of blood. 

She had done damage to the passenger side door though. There is a nice vertical dent where the doe's head hit. And there is a big dent where her "shoulder" struck. I bet she had a tremendous headache and was seriously sore the next day! The window still goes up and down though, thankfully. And I'm also grateful she didn't leap out before a blind curve along the previous stretch of that same road where it winds along next to a creek. 

The wasps have seemed to flourish and become aggressive during the drought. The delivery men that brought the trash compactor I mentioned in my last post each got stung. I got stung while watering my plants. And they have positively had it in for my youngest! As I mentioned previously, he got 3 stings on his upper arm a while back when a wasp somehow crawled inside his shirtsleeve as he played in the sandbox. He still bears little bruise-like marks where he was stung. Yesterday, a wasp stung him on the shin as he played on our teeter totter. By the evening his entire lower leg was swollen to twice it's normal size! His leg was hot to the touch and he was walking gingerly and complaining of the pain. 

I did a bit of reading and determined it wasn't panic-worthy. I iced his leg and later tucked him into bed with an ice pack, hoping the swelling would go down. This morning it was still swollen and his foot had started to swell too, causing him to walk on his toes. So I decided that I should give him some anti-histimine. All I had on hand was children's Claritin. I was lucky to have that, as we are not a mecine-taking family. It took some cajoling, but I managed to get him to choke it down. 

This afternoon, the swelling still had not gone down, so I made a visit to the pharmacist and talked things over with her. I purchased some Benadryl and she went over the proper dosing with me. I made sure that the 24 hour acting Claritin that was still in his system would not cause any problems. The Benadryl has had no effect either! The poor kid has been wearing a slipper on that foot (even it was hard to get on) for a day now (even to Mass- where we brought up the gifts at the offertory- and the Children's Museum). So I gave him another dose of the big B after the usual 4 hours- still nothing. He didn't even get the slightest bit sleepy! Ugh. I sure hope the swelling lessens some tomorrow, but supposedly it could be this way for up to seven days.

Thankfully we've had a brief rain and a cooler front is moving through now. The 90's will feel cool compared to our long streak of three digit temps. And hopefully we'll get more rain or the local crops will be complete losses. (The corn and soy beans here are terrible looking. The corn is short, curling, and brown for the bottom two feet. The soybeans are dry and silvery looking... the fields are patchy with bare spots.) Besides, I'd like a lawn that doesn't crunch like straw, and the fact that many trees have lost half their leaves and some are turning color like the fall is sort of freaking me out a bit, seeing as July has just started.  

At the Speed of Life

Life is truly speeding by. We've been super-busy here the last two months. So I suppose it's time for a little update for those of you who follow along in order to keep in touch. I've touched on some of the things going on in my previous posts, but here's a more accurate list.

3 colors of daylilies are surviving and blooming despite the drought

My husband has been on business trips to Las Vegas, New York, and California. He even got to stay at the historic Hotel Del Coronado. (Soon he will spend another week in California and Boston.) He still travels to Indianapolis a fair bit to the interoperability lab that he is responsible for, and his internship program started and is in full swing too, so he's been teaching. He's also been hiring folks like crazy, even meeting with potential new employees on weekends. 

He's not all about work though, at least not work that he gets paid for. He lifted and threw lots of hay bales when we hayed. (I drove the truck and stacked bales in the barn.) He did some more clearing with his flail mower and got the tractor stuck on the slope behind the dam (so I towed him over the cusp of the hill with the four wheel drive truck and a logging chain.) He installed new posts, stretched woven wire fencing, and hung gates in our goat pen. He also bought a used paddle boat and repaired it. He helped our neighbors put up their hay. And lastly, he had some friends over to fish in our pond and caught a lot of largemouth bass and big blue gill. 

Here's my son with the microphone explaining his code to the crowd
at the exhibition contest at the end of the Lego robotics camp.

My oldest was in a week long sailing day camp at the Lake Monroe Sailing Association. This meant that the other children and I to spend 2 hours in the car each day to get him there and back, despite the mother of one of his friends driving the last leg of the trip each day. He also participated in a two day Lego Robotics camp, (pictures here) and got a tour of a large data center. And, of course, he helped my husband with the fencing project, and putting up our neighbor's hay.

What else has been going on in the last two months? I've mentioned some of it in bits and pieces, but here's a more complete list. We traveled (in shifts, due to the haying in progress) to Kentucky for the First Communion of one of my Goddaughters. We got two baby goats and started bottle feeding them. Our old goat did not take to them. My in-laws visited for a three day weekend. Then my parents spent four days here. We attended a chalk art event and a fine arts fair. We celebrated Mother's Day, Father's Day, my youngest son's third birthday, and our sixteenth wedding anniversary. We went boating on our pond twice. 

This squirrel hung in various death-like positions
in the miserable heat one day.

We continue to suffer through a long drought, as I mentioned earlier. The last week has been in the 100's each day! So we've been toting extra water to the animals and to the potted plants. Our neighbor's pond has gone dry (ours is doing well) and the papers are reporting on local wells drying up (our has held up so far.)

This week the goats were weaned. My husband continues to try to get our older doe acclimated to the new doelings. (She's biting them now instead of ramming and butting.) We had a trash compactor delivered on Monday. My husband installed it, and it's nice not to have the empty space for it under the countertop. 

Some of us made the trek to the family reunion for my side of the family this weekend. My father is visiting through the Fourth of July. And we are helping with moving a few of my uncle's things from his old nursing home to his new one.

And then, of course there are the usual and ongoing things that kept us busy too.  There was the daily laundry, dishes, diapering, cleaning, child tending, goat feeding/care, etc.. There were the weekly music lessons, grocery shopping runs, recycling and trash drop-offs. There was the monthly water softener filling. There were our six month dental appointments, our yearly vision exams and violin lease renewal, etc. etc. And I feel sure I am leaving a few things out. But you get the picture. Life is rushing along.

Oh, and I'm nearly at my free photo posting limit on Blogger. I'll have to rectify that soon, as pictures are my thing.