Every last bale of the first field was loaded up and hauled out
Just before the clock stuck 9:00 p.m.
Two trucks, two trailers; all the hay gone to new homes!
Your friend on a western Colorado farm,
Although, the days are extremely hot (100-106*f–up to 41.11c)
The nights cool down, way down to 59*f or less (15c)
The sun hot and baking during the day
The cool nights
keeps everything growing gently
The constant hot afternoon wind rustles the corn stalks, causing the developing ears to be pollinated
The move from the rays of the sun
to the cooling
Of the shade.
bringing a soft and welcome
break — bringing a
Softness to the air.
Hot summer days
Shade giving comfort to beasts and man alike
Rich, flourishing Summer
Making full and happy hearts
Good morning, My Friends!
From my world to your Hearts,
I am feeling, better, better, better! Boy is that sensitive nose of mine a mess. I have to be very careful and NOT go out in the wind.
Or the weeds. Or the grass.
The second I go out in the wind my nose becomes infected. Then I’m sick and I have to take medicine which makes me very, very sleepy.
TODAY! I feel GOOD! I feel good enough I am GOING TO DO SOMETHING NO MATTER WHAT MOM SAYS!!!
Now what started all this, you ask. Well,
I was out checking all the news right after my very yummy break-the-long-night-fast of a boiled skinless, boneless chicken thigh.
(Mom is afraid I have developed an allergy to food so she is monitoring EVERYTHING! Although, I do find the REAL boiled chicken thigh very yummy. I can slurp that right down in two gulps.)
So, anyhoo here I am checking out the farmyard…lots of interesting things out here to sniff— when one has a sniffer.
I haven’t had a sniffer since forever!
Sniff, sniff, sniff.
What do we have here…?!
Sniff, sniff, snuff
Raccoon. Yes. We have lots of raccoons, I think we are a major highway for raccoons.
Raccoons will kill and eat chickens, you know. That’s why Mom always and forever locks up the two hens each and every night. Locks them up tighter than a drum. Gota keep ‘um safe, ya know.
Yes, raccoon…and WHOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
WHAT IS THIS!
Not a raccoon.
I don’t think I know this smell.
Sniff, sniff…oooooooooooo, yes, I do. DANGER in the form of QUILLS!
I better let Mom know.
But, wait! I think I had better go check out around the Butler Bins and the farm equipment and the….
I took off trotting out of the farmyard when I heard:
“BOOMER! WHERE ARE YOU?! BOOMER! YOU COME BACK HERE!”
I turned around…shoot.
MOM! THERE YOU ARE! I LOVE YOU, MOM!
I hobbled up to Mom with my tail going in a circle.
“Boomie, you can’t go off on a walk-about anymore. Your back leg doesn’t work, your knee hasn’t really healed from whatever you did to it this winter, you can’t see well, and your hearing is off. I’m sorry Beaglie, your exploring days are over. You have to stay in the yard and close to mom now.”
Mom reached down and gave my ears lots of rubs, pets, strokes, and a big kiss on my nose.
Okay, whatever you say Mom, I thought as I followed her back into the yard, then into the house.
Settling down, I made myself comfortable…I’ll sleep for a spell. BUT I think I still might do a walk-about sometime.
Rocky, you are just the best reading dog in the whole wide world.
Boomer (and Mom)
We set the last set of water under the treat of an approaching rain storm
The wind whipped a series of fast moving showers all around us throughout the Uncompahgre (Un-come-pah-gray—accent on the pah) Plateau; along the canyons between us and Grand Junction–the Roubidoux, Esclante, Dominguez Canyons, then soaking the desert separating Delta from Grand Junction.
Stunningly beautiful fast moving rain!
At one point the late sun broke through just long enough to illuminate some of the rain drops south of us to look like a faint rainbow!
Then as nighttime arrived lightning whipped the Plateau, wind beat our area, and thunder hammered the heavens way over there on the Uncompaghre.
Boomer and both cats came in, to lay as close to me as possible.
Lightening slithered along the canyons and gullies on the Plateau, with distant drumbeats of thunder sounding loud [here]. It must have sounded like the roll call of the end of the world up there on the Uncompahgre.
Although rain seethed around us the skies only sprinkled on us—not even turning the ground to mud…just damp.
This morning we woke to rinsed skies, cooler temperatures, with thick gray clouds hanging in bunches, waiting to mush together at some future point in time.
They say by Friday this flurry of small intense storms will be gone from our area; the heat and sun will return.
Your friend on a western Colorado farm,
This little granddaughter (when the family moved to Craig, Colorado) had a horrible time adjusting to life in a subdivision (although a very spacious subdivision) and a life without the farm.
But the farmer and neighbor who lives just up the hill asked Linky if she would like to help gentle down his very special pigs. (Mr. Chapman raises pigs for shows and for breeding purposes only.)
These are the pigs today. One of the piglets has a heart attack and died, but two are doing fine. Soon to be Momma’s. Linky told me one will farrow around the last week of July and the other the first week in August.
What more can a child ask for!
Mr. Chapman is a very good and kind pig farmer. The pens are open, clean and spacious. The sows give birth in a natural environment, handled all the time so they are very gentle, and fed only the best of natural feeds. (They also have a pellet stove in each house and cooling fans in the summer.)
Next month it will be Linkin’s turn to spend a week with us. First we had Tallen, then Blade and last will be Linky.
Your friend on a western Colorado Farm,