It Rained and Rained--Until it Didn't

I carried more buckets of water to the sheep yesterday than I did any day this past summer.

This summer it rained and rained and rained, until fall came, and it didn't.

The sheep ingest much of their water through grass which grew instead of going dormant in July and August. Even when temperatures rose into the 90s, the sheep drank little water.

The rains stopped this fall, and the grass stopped growing and turned brown. While the sheep are still grazing grass in the pasture, its water content is low. Dew no longer coats it in the morning.

The temperatures rose into the 70s yesterday and the winds picked up speed. The sheep, sporting their light winter coats, drank and drank and drank.

And I carried and carried and carried.

And I told myself it was better than carrying buckets and buckets of water in 90 degree weather--or hauling hay through the snow.

My Green Thumb Turns Red

Among the new tries for this year's garden was popcorn.

It loved my garden, and grew and grew, then turned brown, the full ears drying on the stalk. I harvested it last week and had two paper backs full of mahogany red ears.

I could leave the corn on the ears. When I want a snack, all I'd have to do is grab an ear, stick it in a paper bag and zap it in the microwave.

But ears of corn take up a lot of space.

So I opted to save some whole ears for popping and began shelling the rest. Removing the kernels from the cob made by thumb sore. I put on gloves. It helped, somewhat.

After filling two jars, I called it quits. My thumb was quite red and beginning to blister.

Corn shelling will have to wait a few more days.

Harvest

I fall asleep to the sound of diesel engines.

Combines are gobbling up bushels and bushels of corns and soybeans and transforming the landscape. Night sounds roll across the bare fields.

I awake in the night to coyotes, howling, barking, yipping, responding to each other.

Are they hunting, gobbling up raccoon, rabbits, mice and groundhogs displaced by harvest? Or are they joyful about the wide, open spaces?

My own harvest is going much slower.

In the afternoon sunshine, I pull an ear of popcorn from a stalk, remove the husk and place it in a bag.

Little One, the new barn kitten, helps with harvest.

I measure my progress by ears husked. When finished, I have two grocery bags filled with popcorn. A fine harvest indeed.