My pores open. Hot salty fluid emerges as my shirt and pants cling to my skin. Less than five minutes in this summer furnace and I am sweatin' like a horse. The thermometer reads 94 degrees but the weatherman says it feels like 105+. The sky is cloudless yet hazy. Long sought after rain is not forthcoming. Quenching, refreshing, and cooling. But always north and always passing. It's been longer than five weeks since any measurable precipitation. And I continue to pray. Please Lord, bring the rain. The land is parched.... crackled. The grass finally succumbing to the crunch of dehydration. Even the bees do not fly. They are overwhelmed with cooling the hive so their babies do not die.
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| First planting of sweet corn with ears long and ready to fill out, but they need rain. |
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| Dry but protected from raccoons. |
The sunflowers and zinnias somehow manage to smile. And I smile back. The giant sunflowers have yet to reach their heights but the small cut-able ones have just begun. I planted them along side the broccoli, peppers, and cucumbers. They are pretty and they calm my farmer concerns. Blooming inspite of an empty reservior. When will it rain?
For the most part many of the crops have been using the deep ground water filled from the persistent cold rains of this spring. At the time I found myself wishing for a close of the sky's water.... not anymore. One to two inches of rain for a couple of weeks would be life-sustaining for the pumpkins, melons, second and third plantings of sweet corn and the blueberries. I have been filling the "water buffalo" (A 250 gallon container Farmer Husband strapped to a wagon) but it is overwhelming. Hours after soaking the plants the ground returns to its leathery wrinkled appearance.
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| Wilting under the heat even after being watered. |
Many crops are ready for harvest. I've taken garlic scapes, purple and yellow beans, monster-sized onions, blueberries, zucchini and yellow summer squash to the markets. More onions are ready, potatoes can be started, and the garlic bulbs can be dug and cured. But it is too hot....
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| Rocambole and music garlic ready for harvest |
And life on the farm continues to bring surprises. Farmer Husband recently taught me to shoot a shot gun. My dad gave me this double-barrel shot gun - actually he gave it to our son, but he's a bit young. The gun was my grandfather's. But I had never used one before. A clever and sly fox was the motivation for learning. The fox has brazingly taken over a dozen of our free-range chickens - four of them our new chocolate colored laying hens. The first time I saw him I cornered him in the chicken yard and attempted to club him with a big stick (it was all I had). Scared him, but he was back in an hour for two more.
Strange, this protection drive. I never like killing animals. I don't hunt. Although I do enjoy fishing (when was the last time I did that???). So this emotion to protect my chickens struck me as odd and out of character. If anyone knows how to get rid of a fox without killing it let me know. The traps are too big for him as he stands about 20 inches at the shoulder.
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| Farmer Chris learning to shoot. (yes, I did put my hearing protection on). Struck the target well each time - Farmer Husband Gary said, "Glad you're on my side!" |
Journey Joys - air conditioning, plants still green, chickens in a safe yard, the smell of ripening sweet corn.
