We've been watching the weather with great interest. Every night, our lovely weatherman predicts the weather with intense emotion and excellent description, "Great day for being outside! Sun, sun, sun! Low humidity! There's a chance of maybe a shower or two popping up, but for the most part...a great day!"
Always a chance.
Never definite.
If you're wanting to run outside, get a tan, swim, or wash your car, this weather is awesome. If you're a farmer where we are, as well as a great deal of the state of Texas and into the Plains, you're dying for a rain.
There was a chance today. The sky has blued up three times today, complete with lightning, thunder, the whole works.
Not even the pavement got wet.
Joe is trying to keep optimistic, but whenever there's a chance, he'll say, "Do you know what a tenth, two-tenths, half inch (whatever) could do for our crop? Do you know how much we're losing every time it doesn't rain."
Sigh.
There goes my dreams of the denim couch in the Pottery Barn catalogue...not that I would ever really go and buy it after the fall, but with cash in hand, a girl can dream, right?
We're starting to worry around here, and that is never fun. Decisions are second guessed, dirt is kicked without conversation when the farmers gather, and worried faces scan the radar for just a sliver of green to pass our way.
We could be worse off, I know, but this month of August is already rough with summer ending, school starting, and with harvest just a breath away, and if we could just get a good soak, we'd be ready for the crop to finish its maturing process.
It's sunny now, and when Anna gets off the bus and the girls (and boy...even though he just sits in the stroller), and some friends will go outside and enjoy this lovely day, complete with low humidity, a light breeze and sun, sun, sun. I'm going to stay hopeful that a rain will come, so we'll go out and enjoy this nice afternoon because tomorrow, there is always a chance.
Showing posts with label rain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rain. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Friday, July 29, 2011
ohpleaseohpleaseohplease
I was up super early this morning for many reasons: newborn(ish) baby, quiet time without anyone needing anything, the potential (notice I said potential)of an early run to beat the heat. However, I decided to catch a bit of the news...and fell back asleep.
I was awoken by rain, glorious rain, but leaped out of my slumber to go and shut the windows on our entryway porch...the one where we keep most of our shoes. Aurgh. As I soaked myself, shutting the windows and laying down our pool towels (which are kept out there as well), I heard Joe get up, too, and begin to pace.
This rain, this glorious, soaking rain, was coming down in sheets, but was also accompanied by wind.
Scary, strong, nasty wind.
I could read Joe's mind as he stood in front of our big kitchen window:
"Ohpleaseohpleaseohplease...not wind."
Wind sometimes equals downed corn, which at this point, could be disastrous. Later in the growing season, it would also be terrible, but the corn could at least be mature enough to be harvested. Our corn is still forming its kernels, and if it were to snap and flatten, that would be bad, bad news.
But, it didn't. We got some rain, and some relief, and once again, I am contemplating going to monster.com and finding Joe a desk job.
However, as I write, in my soaked running clothes, I am reminded again that we are okay. We may be on edge 97% of the time, but we have yet to fall off this cliff called farming. I might be slightly annoyed with farming some times in my life, but I am not living in a place where my safety is compromised on a daily basis. My children are healthy, and we are blessed to have them healthy. All the things that I find around my house that need a little tweak and a brushstroke of paint are cosmetic; they are things. I'm not standing in a rubble heap after a tornado like those unfortunate folks in Joplin, Missouri (thanks to my mom for her Facebook status to remind me of that, again!).
I'm trying to remember that. Our ohpleaseohpleaseohplease moments are so small in comparison to what others go through, and I need to remember that. My pool towels can be dried, our corn crop still looks good, and all these things are miniscule in the grand scheme of life.
Remind me of that, please? Possibly tomorrow.. and the next day, and the next?
I was awoken by rain, glorious rain, but leaped out of my slumber to go and shut the windows on our entryway porch...the one where we keep most of our shoes. Aurgh. As I soaked myself, shutting the windows and laying down our pool towels (which are kept out there as well), I heard Joe get up, too, and begin to pace.
This rain, this glorious, soaking rain, was coming down in sheets, but was also accompanied by wind.
Scary, strong, nasty wind.
I could read Joe's mind as he stood in front of our big kitchen window:
"Ohpleaseohpleaseohplease...not wind."
Wind sometimes equals downed corn, which at this point, could be disastrous. Later in the growing season, it would also be terrible, but the corn could at least be mature enough to be harvested. Our corn is still forming its kernels, and if it were to snap and flatten, that would be bad, bad news.
But, it didn't. We got some rain, and some relief, and once again, I am contemplating going to monster.com and finding Joe a desk job.
However, as I write, in my soaked running clothes, I am reminded again that we are okay. We may be on edge 97% of the time, but we have yet to fall off this cliff called farming. I might be slightly annoyed with farming some times in my life, but I am not living in a place where my safety is compromised on a daily basis. My children are healthy, and we are blessed to have them healthy. All the things that I find around my house that need a little tweak and a brushstroke of paint are cosmetic; they are things. I'm not standing in a rubble heap after a tornado like those unfortunate folks in Joplin, Missouri (thanks to my mom for her Facebook status to remind me of that, again!).
I'm trying to remember that. Our ohpleaseohpleaseohplease moments are so small in comparison to what others go through, and I need to remember that. My pool towels can be dried, our corn crop still looks good, and all these things are miniscule in the grand scheme of life.
Remind me of that, please? Possibly tomorrow.. and the next day, and the next?
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Worse Than a Curse Word
"Rain, rain, go away, come again another day..." our four year old sweetheart sang as she ate her breakfast this morning.
I stopped my cereal pouring. Joe halted in his tracks.
"WHAT?" we asked simultaneously.
We were probably a little harsh in our tone, stopping this sweet girl in her song, but after weeks of no rain and a terribly, even dangerously, hot week, we are desperate for rain.
Remember those bullets I thought we had dodged earlier this summer? Well, that thought is coming back to haunt me.
So this conversation and a few tears from my darling daughter, got me to think. In a farmer's life, what's worse than a curse word from a farm kid's 's mouth? The wish for no rain.
This is new for me. I was baptized (literally and figuratively) by fire with a huge rain storm on my wedding day. As I looked out the windows of our church, praying that it would stop raining for the grand exit, hoping that I would be showered with rose petals, not rain drops, I was told by my mom, a late in life farm wife..."Never, ever curse an August rainshower."
Great.
So, it poured on our wedding day...so loudly that people still talk about the fact that they couldn't hear the pastor's message or our vows during the ceremony. And our video, shot from the rafters of the metal and steel building --sigh-- it's a beautiful picture, but the sound is something to remember...or forget.
But I digress. Here we are, nearly eight years after that day, and I'm just now getting the message. We need rain. And we need all the good rain vibes we can get. So we have put the stop to all nursery rhymes that ask for rain to go away. When Anna had a t-ball game cancelled due to rain, we didn't pout. Tonight's Vacation Bible School at our church would probably go off a lot smoother if it was not raining, but we are not worrying about that.
We need rain. I will do a rain dance if I have to in order to keep it going.
Because what's important at this moment in our farm life is rain, and no one better cuss it today!
I stopped my cereal pouring. Joe halted in his tracks.
"WHAT?" we asked simultaneously.
We were probably a little harsh in our tone, stopping this sweet girl in her song, but after weeks of no rain and a terribly, even dangerously, hot week, we are desperate for rain.
Remember those bullets I thought we had dodged earlier this summer? Well, that thought is coming back to haunt me.
So this conversation and a few tears from my darling daughter, got me to think. In a farmer's life, what's worse than a curse word from a farm kid's 's mouth? The wish for no rain.
This is new for me. I was baptized (literally and figuratively) by fire with a huge rain storm on my wedding day. As I looked out the windows of our church, praying that it would stop raining for the grand exit, hoping that I would be showered with rose petals, not rain drops, I was told by my mom, a late in life farm wife..."Never, ever curse an August rainshower."
Great.
So, it poured on our wedding day...so loudly that people still talk about the fact that they couldn't hear the pastor's message or our vows during the ceremony. And our video, shot from the rafters of the metal and steel building --sigh-- it's a beautiful picture, but the sound is something to remember...or forget.
But I digress. Here we are, nearly eight years after that day, and I'm just now getting the message. We need rain. And we need all the good rain vibes we can get. So we have put the stop to all nursery rhymes that ask for rain to go away. When Anna had a t-ball game cancelled due to rain, we didn't pout. Tonight's Vacation Bible School at our church would probably go off a lot smoother if it was not raining, but we are not worrying about that.
We need rain. I will do a rain dance if I have to in order to keep it going.
Because what's important at this moment in our farm life is rain, and no one better cuss it today!
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Fidgety
There are a lot of similarities between the farmers around here and me. I am constantly fussing about and with something. Currently, I have a baby quilt on a rack, on my bed, ready to hang up. Poor Joe has about nine thousand hooks to hang in various places in our house (remember the Seinfeld episode..."Imagine! A series of hooks!" We're there.). I have furniture to move and paint to roll. I'm constantly rearranging drawers, changing pillow placement on couches, fluffing something. Something always needs to be put away or fixed, in my eyes. It's a nervous habit, I guess.
However, it's also a farmer's habit. It is raining again today, and although just last week the guys were tinkering in the driveway with the planter, lamenting on the lack of rain, it's now the third (or fourth) day of rain, or the potential, cooler temperatures, and one can hear a bit of grumbling. The grumbling at my house is coming from my husband who has been instructed with chalk lines and a power drill placed on his pillow (not really) to get to work on the honey-dos while the weather is crummy. I'm not naggy...I just have to jump on my chance to get some stuff done while he's in the house! Other grumblings include the fact that now it is after the "magic day" of April 15th, and there should be something going on around the countryside. Other farmers in our family (i.e., my father-in-law) have worked ground and even planted. Friends have called Joe, asking him the ever present question of the season, "What have you gotten done?"
Answer: Nothing, ground-wise. A lot, fidget and fuss wise.
That's not entirely true, and I would be in big trouble with my editors (aka, my dad, uncle, and Joe) if I didn't recognize the fact that the planter is unfurled and ready to roll, the Turbo Chopper 4000 is hooked on and staged like a runner at the start line, and the seed, fertilizer, etc. have been delivered. We are all ready to run our race; Mother Nature is just not necessarily cooperating.
Which leads us to the fidgeting.
I'm hopeful that the rain, although welcome for sure, stops and the temperature goes up to at least 65 degrees...for all of our minds. Kids need to be outside; farmers need to have a glimmer of hope that they will get out there and get going for planting season; and I have a garage to clean...with another series of hooks to install!
There's always something!
However, it's also a farmer's habit. It is raining again today, and although just last week the guys were tinkering in the driveway with the planter, lamenting on the lack of rain, it's now the third (or fourth) day of rain, or the potential, cooler temperatures, and one can hear a bit of grumbling. The grumbling at my house is coming from my husband who has been instructed with chalk lines and a power drill placed on his pillow (not really) to get to work on the honey-dos while the weather is crummy. I'm not naggy...I just have to jump on my chance to get some stuff done while he's in the house! Other grumblings include the fact that now it is after the "magic day" of April 15th, and there should be something going on around the countryside. Other farmers in our family (i.e., my father-in-law) have worked ground and even planted. Friends have called Joe, asking him the ever present question of the season, "What have you gotten done?"
Answer: Nothing, ground-wise. A lot, fidget and fuss wise.
That's not entirely true, and I would be in big trouble with my editors (aka, my dad, uncle, and Joe) if I didn't recognize the fact that the planter is unfurled and ready to roll, the Turbo Chopper 4000 is hooked on and staged like a runner at the start line, and the seed, fertilizer, etc. have been delivered. We are all ready to run our race; Mother Nature is just not necessarily cooperating.
Which leads us to the fidgeting.
I'm hopeful that the rain, although welcome for sure, stops and the temperature goes up to at least 65 degrees...for all of our minds. Kids need to be outside; farmers need to have a glimmer of hope that they will get out there and get going for planting season; and I have a garage to clean...with another series of hooks to install!
There's always something!
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Rain Days
As a kid, and then later as a teacher, I ADORED snow days. They were filled with possibility, pancakes, and sleep! As a farmer's wife, now, rain days (depending upon the number of consecutive ones. . . last year was not the year to rejoice in the rain) are comparable to snow days. Joe is usually near the house, able to help with the kids to give me an opportunity to run to the grocery store without having to talk about every single purchase, what letter it starts with, and why we cannot buy PEZ dispensers.
This weekend, "they" (who are these weather gods anyway?) are calling for rain. Now, I have quite a dilemma. Typically, rain is a really good thing for the new crops. We have been able to "row" crops that are already in, which means, from the road, see little promises of corn plants (it's still too early for beans to be in the ground here) in their perfect little rows. Anyway, this weekend is a race in which I have been in training for quite some time. The girls are in the youth run (a 1K, isn't that funny?), and we are returning to our dear Alma Mater for the weekend. It's supposed to rain.
As a runner, I should be disappointed in this, however, as a farm wife, I am ECSTATIC! I don't have to be a single mom, or beg my mom to come and babysit the girls while I participate. We can actually do this activity as a family!!!! Oh the JOY!!
Farmers are not the only folks at the mercy of the weather, it's all really relative to whomever you are. We all want green grass, but not a flooded basement. Don't most adults need sunlight to get kids out in the yard, attend Little League games, and just be a generally nice person. Isn't a rainy day good for all of us to not feel like we have to be potting plants, mowing the grass, pushing the kids in the swings, plant the garden, and grill out dinner. . . all simultaneously, of course!
My Facebook alerts in regards to this run and the potential rain have been pretty funny. I laugh at the comments of, "OH NO!" or "I am hoping for it to be sunny!" That was me, just a few years ago. Now I have a piece of me that would like to not have to run 13 miles in a torrential downpour, but if it means that Joe can be there to watch me and the big girls cross the finish line, and will give our crops a well deserved drink, I'll take it!
This weekend, "they" (who are these weather gods anyway?) are calling for rain. Now, I have quite a dilemma. Typically, rain is a really good thing for the new crops. We have been able to "row" crops that are already in, which means, from the road, see little promises of corn plants (it's still too early for beans to be in the ground here) in their perfect little rows. Anyway, this weekend is a race in which I have been in training for quite some time. The girls are in the youth run (a 1K, isn't that funny?), and we are returning to our dear Alma Mater for the weekend. It's supposed to rain.
As a runner, I should be disappointed in this, however, as a farm wife, I am ECSTATIC! I don't have to be a single mom, or beg my mom to come and babysit the girls while I participate. We can actually do this activity as a family!!!! Oh the JOY!!
Farmers are not the only folks at the mercy of the weather, it's all really relative to whomever you are. We all want green grass, but not a flooded basement. Don't most adults need sunlight to get kids out in the yard, attend Little League games, and just be a generally nice person. Isn't a rainy day good for all of us to not feel like we have to be potting plants, mowing the grass, pushing the kids in the swings, plant the garden, and grill out dinner. . . all simultaneously, of course!
My Facebook alerts in regards to this run and the potential rain have been pretty funny. I laugh at the comments of, "OH NO!" or "I am hoping for it to be sunny!" That was me, just a few years ago. Now I have a piece of me that would like to not have to run 13 miles in a torrential downpour, but if it means that Joe can be there to watch me and the big girls cross the finish line, and will give our crops a well deserved drink, I'll take it!
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