Down on the Farm
I’ve decided it’s too hot to day anything but sit on the porch, fan running, and drink beer. Seriously.
And it’s only 84 degrees. I must be old.
Remember the summer of 1980? One hundred twenty degrees in the shade in the corral at camp. And I survived, even wearing jeans and boots all day. In fact, when I came home on weekends, I kept turning the thermostat up on the AC and Mom would complain.
Fast forward, er, 36 years, and here I sit. Sweating. A lot. I mean, when I was putting up the new clothesline, I could SMELL myself. Ugh.
Okay, enough complaining—I just hope I get used to this quick, because, unlike tonight when the temps should drop into the 60s, the rest of the summer won’t be like that!
We’re down at the Farm on a weekend this time, because this morning we went to an equipment auction at the MDC. Boats and motors and trailers and parts and implements and tractors and UTVs and ATVs. And trucks. And more.
Everyone said bidding was high this time, and all we came away with were two gas-powered backpack blowers. And boy, are they heavy!
It was hot, but again, not too bad. A little cloud cover, a slight breeze. A LOT of people.
Then, of course, the obligatory shopping, and back home. Mostly, I’m piddling around here, trying to stay cool. I did put up the aforementioned clothesline, and put away the supplies. And tried to light a bonfire.
Smokey the Bear’s got nothing on me. I swear, the stuff is being deliberately . . . I don’t know what! But other than a couple flares, thanks to a judicious application of lighter fluid, that was it. I gave up. Guess I’ll just look at brush piles for a while yet.
I’m inside, and it’s not too bad—at least 10 degrees cooler. And looking at those brush piles. . .
My husband is up at the barn, fixing things. Most particularly, my garden rake that he broke last week, killing a snake. He sure hates snakes. I explained that one does NOT need to raise said rake over one’s head in order to bash said snake and deliver a fatal blow. . .
And now, as we speak, the new AC unit is going in. Call me a wimp, I don’t care! I ditched the jeans and boots about 2:00 p.m., about two hours later than I should have.
In other news, the garden is growing and expanding, the barn is cleaned and traps are laid down for those pesky mice. Plus, I rigged up a cooling system for the deck and picked up a ton of trash in the pasture and garden areas. And all the trimming and cutting is done, too. For now.