Friday, July 1, 2011

Summer 2011

The day I sat on the steps and cried over Rain.

The picture above shows two storm systems that were to the north and the south of us. See the blue sky in between? That only extended over OUR land.

I sat on my steps and smelled rain. I could hear it. It was only about 200 yards away. I could taste it and the air was thick with moisture. But I only felt 9 drops of rain. When it became obvious that those storms weren't going to move over us I started crying.
I have never cried over rain before, but I'm sure it won't be the last time I do. I'm coming to understand weather in an entirely new way. People who live off the land have always had an incredible connection to the seasons and weather patterns.

I pray for rain.
I pray for rain with a fervor and desperation that I've never experienced before.
So much depends on the weather. 

Feed costs. Water costs. Availability of both items. Can I water my garden? Should I?
Then the fires that threaten everything.

My world is one big 10 acre ball of highly flammable tinder just begging for ignition.

Makings of a Fire Pit

I was looking at these materials this morning and I got to thinking.
Why am I building a Fire Pit over there? I might build it and NEVER get to use it.
Those stones might become a flower bed instead. :o)

It's June, we've had 1 inch of rain this year. Yep, definitely a flower bed.
The girls heading off to the hole.
I was in the house this morning getting a glass of water and the girls came in. 

"It's hot! We're going to play in the house.", they said.
"HOT?! It's only 98 degrees outside! Go play before it actually gets hot, I'll call you in at 9.", was my reply.

When they headed back out the door I stopped for a moment and thought about how ridiculous that statement would have sounded to most people. 
But here it's true. 
We stop working at around 10 or 10:30 and don't venture back out until after 7 or 8. It's often 95 or warmer when I step out the door at 6:30. 
And it feels cool. 
I know that it will reach towards 110, or higher, within a few hours, and work as fast as we can to get things done before it does.

If I didn't keep them out until 9 or 10 then my children would have no outdoor time until October or November. (Except at the lake. We spend a LOT of time at the lake.) 

This heat has baked the earth. The grasses crunch underneath my feet as I walk to the pond to say goodbye. Last night it was only 6 inches deep with lots of mud. 
I wonder if it will last the week. 

This drought has given me such a HUGE appreciation for the hated Mesquite tree. They are still green. They're green AND they've produced their flowers and beans. The longest recorded mesquite tree taproot is 190 feet. With seasons like this I can see why they'd need it.
So on we trudge. 

Praying for rain.
Preparing for a fall garden.
Researching shade cloth and extreme mulching techniques.
Possibly reducing our goat herd to something we can support with these conditions.
Even with these extreme conditions I have HOPE.

(Actually, it may be all I have at this But at least I have something.)


MamaWestWind said...

Praying for rain as well down here in the southern of the SW. I know what you mean about 98 degrees in the am. We've been hiding inside as well!


umbrellalady said...

I wish I could send some of our moisture your way. Southwestern Manitoba is still flooding...there is no fairness to your lack of moisture or our overabundance of it. I cheered because my tomatoes are flowering and we finally have heat this week - it has been a cold, miserable, very wet spring right until the end of June. I wish we both could share and have the perfect weather all summer for our gardens and ourselves...sigh

I will keep positive thoughts going your way.

Restless Prairie Farm said...

The weather just gets crazier and crazier each year.

It's amazing because we have incredible flooding just a few hundred miles away from us.

I'm constantly praying that the weather will balance out. It feels like all that global warming stuff may not be the hoax that so many say it is.

Bending Birches said...

wishing you a cleansing and nurturing rainfall, friend... xoxo

texomamorganlady said...

You must live very near us, we too could smell and see the rain that refused to dampen our cracked earth. We are ever so fortunate to have irrigation for the hay, but around the house and barn it's crunchy under foot. I fear when the rain does come, in the fashion of the texoma deluge, it won't soak in fast enough and we will float away!

Nicole Spring (Frontier Dreams) said...

Oh my, I will pray for rain for you too. Global warming really is scaring me.

Restless Prairie Farm said...

Thank you all for your thoughts and prayers. :o)

texomamorganlady, I finally had to irrigate the pasture just so we didn't lose the native grasses. (The grasses themselves would have survived but not with the goats tracking all over it.) Maybe we'll get some rain. There were clouds yesterday.

Penny Miller said...

That was disappointing for sure. Not even sure I saw 9 drops. Just enough clouds and rain scent to get my hopes up.