What's Good About a Drought?/ Updates

I asked myself this question as I slathered on sunblock, preparing to do chores outside. I looked at the can of "Off" and it flashed into my mind. What's good? Fewer MOSQUITOES! I don't have to spray myself with bug-spray!

Mosquitoes adore my taste, and flock to me. Some bug sprays are simply a condiment to improve my taste! They ignore my hubby, Art, and circle me singing their keening song.

They used to lurk in the shade under the oaks, in clumps of grass, and laid eggs in any available water to propagate. Easy to keep water dumped out of potential nurseries this year.

 
The bites itched, the possibility of encephalitis or West Nile disease was unnerving. I do my chores faster without crazy-woman mosquito swatting breaks. A definite plus in this blistering heat.

                      ***               ***              ***
Updates:

Rabbit herd down to 37-- meat in freezer

Pears ripened two months early, only the size of ping pong balls or a few like tennis balls.

Grasshoppers eating everything in sight -- even the jalapenos!

I'm writing a column for a local paper. Have done three so far.

Saw "Green Lantern" and enjoyed it. Waiting for sequel; you know it's coming!

Enjoying Janet Evanovich's "Smokin' Seventeen" on audio book. I always enjoy a giggle at the antics of Stephanie, Lula, and my favorite: Grandma Mazur! My sister finished the print version in one day.

Feeling cheerful. More than enough to do to keep busy. Life's good.

                                                      

Deeply Sad -- Poor Bunny

Lost another rabbit to the heat today. Now a total of four have died, even though they get their water checked twice a day and ice bottles in the afternoon to cosy up to.

This purebred doe was one I'd hoped to keep to breed the next season. Stupid early hot weather gave us 100F again today. This should be July weather, not June.

The rabbit I found down a few days ago nearly broke my heart. Its siblings were licking it and nudging it to get it to get up. He was cold and stiff, but they kept trying.

So many terrible things happening in the world, and I'm depressed over rabbits dying.  I handled the first two fairly well, but these last two have shaken me up more than I expected. Maybe I need a reality check.

Reclaiming Old Gardens and Other Projects

Years ago they were poultry pens, then changed to gardens, then ignored for two years. Everything beige and twig-like are the skeletons of Roosevelt weeds. AKA poverty weed. They grow where ground is disturbed and left to its own devices. The pile is the first one we cleared out of gardens B and C. More have been pulled and stacked as we reclaim these spaces.



One view of garden C

 Matthew had built raised beds a long time ago, since the ground and I are not on speaking terms. Pulled the Roosevelt out, and will do grass and small weeds next.
Seedlings of squash need clear space soon to spread out and produce.





Opposite end of garden C

Paper shreds from Hangman's family and Maggie's old papers collection form a clean space to walk while choking out most weeds. Barely visible is my "settin' stool" at the upper left edge of the garden. More grass to pull, but rabbits enjoy it.




View of south fence of garden B

 Not all bad news, though. This wild grapevine trained itself on the fence, and is sporting tiny grapes already. Art rewarded it with a few shovels of "bunny poo", our favorite time release fertilizer.
There's another started on the north wall of garden C, too!



Garden B nearly cleaned out and ready to go.

 With our all purpose vehicle, the M-37 (Dodge), Art hauls buckets of compost from the rabbit and poultry area near the house to these back gardens to enrich the soil. Once dumped he smooths the rich blackness in place or fills holes he's dug previously.

Once done, he boards the M-37 and rumbles back to the critter area to plant fig trees (thanks, Hangman) near the old goat pasture. Meanwhile I'm planting okra , watermelon, and cucumber seedlings in another garden area, across from the tractor shed. It contains some lovely recycled raised beds, a topic for the next blog.

I've re-discovered my favorite quotation from WWII in an issue of Reminiscence Magazine that applies to these raised beds. It's a thought very much on my mind as I watch our economy. Preparedness is a garden, no matter how odd. 

32# of Meat ; This IS a Farm, You Know!

Down twelve rabbits, who are now frolicking in an afterlife meadow. Thank you, rabbits, for your sacrifice. As Juniper McKenzie would say, " We take in need, not in wantoness."

Half to go in our freezer soon, and the other half  went with Hangman, who is one of the quickest processors I've ever worked with. Whew! A good days work. Thanks!

Feed bill will go down, and room is made for the next generation of rabbits -- larger, and some new bloodlines. Good things for the winter season, and the following spring.

Transplanted turnip greens and kale this morning, tough winter greens for the critters. Delights for their tastebuds and ensuring those egg yolks stay deeply colored. Now greens will stretch  farther, too. Humans will also enjoy the kale. I can't get next to turnip greens for some reason. Probably don't know how to cook them.

Tomorrow I'll transplant more broccoli, kale, onions, and parsley. The winter garden is picking up! Astounding number of green tomatoes on the vines; hope they'll ripen soon!

The seasons turn and we enter cooler weather after summer's blistering heat. I am meant for cool weather, just like the rabbits we raise.

Walking With Mr. Bear

Going for a walk, Mom? Can I go too? I promise to be good!

The wild grapes are blooming! Too bad the deer will get them before you do, Mom.

C'mon! Lets go check out the flowers! Let's go! Let's go!

These smell great! Can I eat them?

Why are you yelling, Mom? Oh, poison oak is not for eating -- or smelling.

    

Bad plant! You make Mom itch.

She HATES Virginia creeper.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            Oooh,

I protected Mom from all the bad things ( coyotes, cougars, hogs, other dogs) that might hurt her on our walk. I'm a "gooooo  boy", so I got a Pupperoni! Don't forget to take me next time, okay, Mom?

Dry, Dry, Dry

It's so painfully dry here that the oaks are dying. Over half of our place is wooded, and so many of the trees are turning brown. There's nothing to do about it. Even if we could haul enough water to save them, the cost of water would be prohibitive. We have county water, not a well or even a tank.

We took a ride in the M37 to check out the property before Art goes off to work on the movie filming in Smithville. Hot, parched Texas weather is taking it's toll.

Another tree has fallen over the fence dividing our property from the neighboring pasture. One more thing added to the "to do" list.
The last time that fence had a hole I looked up to see twelve cows wandering around the pear trees. I do not herd cows, so Art and Matthew rounded them up and took them back and fixed the fence.
I don't fix fences either. I am the Empress!

When Art stopped the truck for me to take pictures, I could smell the grass scorching underneath. I tried not to ask to stop for too long. Way to easy to start a fire these days. We've had two major fires here in two years, and it's frightening how fast fire moves. The last fire, in February of this year, required the Texas Forestry Service and three area fire departments to put out. A spark from a passing train ignited the grass in the neighbors pasture, and the fire moved to the deer lease on the north and west to our place. Matthew had to cut a firebreak in the woods between our back pasture and the house/outbuildings. I'm so glad we had a dozer here for him to use.

We just have a small garden left. Tomatoes and swiss chard have survived with our help. Everything else has shriveled and died.

Yesterday I started broccoli seeds for the fall garden. In the midst of this drought, I still have hope. The rains will come and the remaining oaks will drink deep.

How Hot Was It?

It was so hot, the apple-pears ripened a month early! What are they? I'm going to send a picture to A&M to see if they can figure out what variety they really are.

They make good pear sauce, though. I'm making another batch today as I write.

The chickens and goat looked at the first bucket of peelings with delight. Now Art brings the

peels and the critters seem to say, "You again? We're sick of this stuff!" I'm finding the eternal peeling and cutting a bit tedious; there's still half of a five gallon bucket to process. At least I'm inside, cool, while I work. Then tomorrow there'll be more to pick, out in the sun. I remind myself how the tree put out only two pears last year and how I missed having pear sauce last winter.

With afternoon temps over 104, we banned cooking inside. My pot of pear sauce plops and plups on the stove hunkered on the porch. The AC is struggles enough in the afternoons without cooking inside. I put together whatever we're having for dinner in the cool interior of the house, then I send it off to the oven courtesy of Art, who loves the heat. Lately, though this heat has even bothered him.

By 9:00 each morning, the chickens hold their wings away from their bodies, beaks gaping, as they pant. The rabbits stretch out across their cage bottoms, silently gasping. All the critters have shade, but each afternoon Art brings the rabbits frozen two liter bottles of water. They sigh with relief as they drape themselves over (or next to) the delightful cool.

Today I have pondered going to the freezer to get an ice bottle for myself.

Helene