Sunday, July 16, 2006, 22:00
From Here to There and Back
I've been doing lots of running the last few days. Running to town. Running out to check on Isabelle and make sure she has plenty of water in her bucket. Running up to see the filly again (the Appaloosa filly the owner wanted to give away). Running to chase the neighbor's cows. Running to the craft sale on Saturday.
Friday night I did double running. My nephew and his wife came to see the Appaloosa filly. So we took them over to the place where she was. They had no more than pulled out of the driveway to head home when a friend called Randy and said he was stranded in a hayfield and could Randy come and get him? Randy no more than got home from giving his friend a ride home, and the neighbor with the Jersey heifers pulled in the driveway. The other neighbor had found them in his yard. Could we help herd them back home?
So there I was, at 9 o'clock at night, standing in the middle of the dirt road, peering through the gathering dusk -- not to mention the cloud of dust hanging over the road from the neighbor's car. She had just driven through and was going to park on the road past our place to keep the heifers from turning up that way.
As I waited for a glimpse of the Jersey heifers, I heard them before I saw them -- the rat-a-tat-tat of their hooves on the road gave them away as they trotted toward me.
My job was to stand in the neighbor's field driveway so they wouldn't head west instead of east.
The brother of the man whose yard the cows were in trotted along behind them to keep them moving.
When they got to the field driveway, we had a bit of struggle to turn them up the road and away from the field, but we finally made it (required jumping up and down, waving arms and yelling). Then we herded them up the road, over the hill, along the flat stretch and turned them into the neighbor's driveway where we herded them into the horse pasture.
It was almost 10 o'clock when we got home. And we still hadn't eaten supper!
I think I figured out why the heifers kept escaping, though. The neighbor whose yard they were in has a pond in his backyard. The heifers were hanging out in the woods during the day and coming out at night to wade in the pond and to drink. (As I understand it, they were also munching on the neighbor's bushes and flowers.)
When it's hot and dry, cows LOVE to stand in a pond to cool their feet and legs. I suggested to the neighbor who owns the heifers that she might want to make a pond for them. She said they had already discovered the goose pond at her place and had drank it dry a couple of times.
Apparently the heifers didn't think the goose pond was big enough and set out to find another pond that was more to their liking. They're in the horse pasture now, where there is an electric fence, so I think they'll be more inclined to stay home. At least for a while, anyway.
Saturday morning it was a scramble to get to the craft sale, even though I didn't have to be there until noon. Still, with an hour's drive ahead of me, I had to take care of the dogs and horses and the barn cats first, load all of my things for the craft sale -- and then, before I got in the shower, I called the other neighbor. They have lots of horses and are in the horse business of breaking out horses for people and getting some saddle time in on them. I had left a message on their answering machine the night before about the Appaloosa filly, and they had a left a message on our machine while we were chasing cows.
The long and short of it is -- they brought the Appaloosa filly home yesterday. They took two of their stock horses and rode 8 miles up there and 8 miles back, with the filly in tow. I know she's in good hands there. They will at least be able to teach her some ground manners, even if it turns out she is not sound enough to be a saddle horse. I can relax now, knowing that her life is no longer in danger.
The craft sale, of course, was a bust. Too hot. I sat in the high school gymnasium all afternoon, from noon until six, dripping sweat. I was supposed to be there until 8 p.m., but I couldn't stand it anymore. Sure, they had lots of fans running, including a big industrial fan that was about six feet across, but it didn't help much.
Every hour or so, two or three people would wander through the craft sale. I went outside a couple of times, just to walk around. The fairgrounds is located right next to the school, and the carnival rides were idle all afternoon. Not enough people around to even run the carnival rides. I was supposed to go back today, but after driving 102 miles round trip yesterday and paying a vendor fee of $30 and only selling one book, I didn't think it was worth the trip again today, especially since it is still hot and very humid.
The temperature this afternoon is in the upper 90s (and that's with an overcast sky) plus the dewpoint is in the upper 70s or low 80s range.
And we still haven't gotten any rain. I went to town this afternoon and saw a couple of cornfields that I know are finished. The corn is rolled up, spiked and the leaves are turning brown. When the leaves turn brown, that's pretty much the end of it. At that point, there's not even enough left to chop for silage.
Hayfields around here are turning out yields of only about one-third what you might normally expect. The picture is bleak for people with any kind of livestock. They will either have to sell their livestock -- or they're going to have to ship hay in from other states. And with the price of gasoline, shipping hay is going to be extremely expensive.
My husband's friend got 2.5 big round bales off a twenty-acre field yesterday. In a normal year, he might have gotten 10 round bales off the same field. So far this year, he's managed to scrounge up about 40 round bales (and he's been baling all over the country). He needs 90 bales to see his beef cattle through until spring.
LeAnn R. Ralph
Friday, July 14, 2006, 19:59
Going Buggy
Sophie is having the time of her life.
The katydids are back.
And if there's anything that will grab the attention of our little gray kitty cat, it's a big green bug that makes ticking noises.
Last year when the katydids were coming into the house, Sophie was only a few weeks old and was fighting for her life. She's a grown-up kitty now, and she's ready to take on the katydids!
Actually, Sophie is ready to take on any insect. I swear that cat can see an ant a mile away. And this is from a kitty that the vet was so afraid would be blind. When she arrived here last summer, her eyes were terribly infected. Obviously the antibiotics and antibiotic ointment did the trick.
I first noticed a katydid in the house Wednesday evening. I was sitting on the couch, brushing my big tom cat, Duke, who weighs 20 pounds and is one of Sophie's very best friends in the whole world.
"What's that ticking noise?" I said.
Sophie leaped onto the buffet -- chirp-meow! she said, staring at the ceiling.
"Oh," I said. "It's a katydid."
I dumped Duke off my lap and went to the kitchen for the lambs wool duster. I was hoping the katydid would climb on the duster and then I could put him outside.
Nope. Nothing doing. Absolutely not.
The katydid flew into the dining room, instead, and landed on the ceiling.
Sophie flew up onto the table in one leap.
Chirp-meow! she said, staring at the ceiling.
"Okay, that's it, Mr. Katydid," I said. "You've got to go outside, otherwise Sophie is going to destroy the house trying to get at you."
I put the duster up by the katydid -- who promptly flew into the plants on top of the coat closet.
"If you know what's good for you, Mr. Katydid, you will stay there," I said.
Last year when the katydids came into the house, they would come in at night, find their way to the plants and stay in the plants until the following night.
And sure enough, last night, the katydid came out.
Or I should say -- the katydids came out. There were three.
Randy had the laptop computer set up on the table and had started to work on a website.
"What's that ticking noise," he said.
"Look up at the ceiling," I said.
And sure enough, it was a katydid.
"You'd better get it outside before Sophie hears it," I said. "Otherwise she's going to be leaping up and down on your computer, trying to get at it."
Randy persuaded the katydid to crawl onto a newspaper, and then he was able to let him outside. Much to Sophie's disappointment. She had heard the commotion and came on the run to see if she could help.
The other katydids came out a while later.
This time, they were not so happy to crawl onto a newspaper, and it wasn't until Randy had gotten into bed with his book that one of them showed up on the door frame to my office. I had no more than sat down to check my e-mail when I heard the ticking followed shortly thereafter by Sophie's Chirp-meow!
"There's a katydid in my office," I said.
Randy heaved a big sigh, got out of bed and went to find a clean, empty cottage cheese container and a piece of paper.
The katydid was going outside whether it wanted to or not -- if Randy had anything to say about it. And it certainly appeared that he *did* intend to have something to say about it.
Eventually, with Sophie dancing around by his feet -- chirp-meow! chirp-meow! -- Randy was able to get the katydid into the cottage cheese container. He put the paper over the top, and then he took the katydid outside and let him go.
The other katydid was on the ceiling in the dining room, so once again, with Sophie dancing under his elbow -- chirp-meow! chirp-meow! -- Randy was able to capture the katydid.
"I think that's all of them," Randy said. "And now, if nobody minds, I'm going back to bed."
I sat down at the computer again.
Suddenly, Sophie came flying into my office, jumped up on the desk, onto the file drawers and up onto the bookcase.
Chirp-meow! she said.
I tilted my head back to look at the ceiling.
No katydid, though.
It was a mayfly.
I went into the bedroom where Randy was still reading.
"We've got a mayfly in the office now. Sophie saw it," I said.
"The mayfly," Randy said, "is on its own."
I went back into my office where Sophie sat on top of the bookcase, staring at the ceiling, watching the may fly. Chirp-meow! she said
Eventually, the mayfly flew off, with Sophie right after it.
I'm hoping the mayfly stuck to crawling around on the ceiling -- and flying up by the ceiling -- and didn't venture closer to the floor. It's dangerous for bugs around here if they get closer to the floor.
I'm still not tired of the miracle, though, if you know what I mean. The little kitty cat who the vet thought would be blind has the eyesight of an eagle.
And she's having the time of her life. Katydids. Mayflies. Ants. Houseflies. And she can see each and every one of them.
Isabelle Update -- Isabelle is feeling much better today, I think. She's been eating hay and drinking lots of water, so that's a good sign. I think she still felt a little "off" yesterday -- but she's more like her old self today.
Craft Sale -- I am scheduled to be at a craft sale Saturday and Sunday. Thank goodness it's inside. The temperature outside is supposed to be close to 100 degrees. It's been in the middle to upper 90s here for the past few days. I'm hoping that since the craft sale is inside, people will want to come inside to get out of the heat. We shall see.
Heifers -- The neighbor stopped by this morning. Her Jersey heifers escaped again. Highly unusual behavior for Jerseys. Usually they are content to stay at home. It seems to me, though, that when the weather gets hot and dry, cattle get uneasy. The other neighbor has Angus cows. They have been escaping periodically, too, throughout this hot and dry summer. One night when the neighbor stopped by at 10 p.m. with his brother-in-law so they could look through the woods for his cows, I said that it seemed to me, cattle get uneasy when it's hot and dry. He thought about it for a moment. "I think you're right," he said.
At any rate, I'm back to keeping an eye out for the neighbor's jerseys. They were in the pasture where they belonged last night. We saw them when we took the dogs for a walk about 7 p.m. I said, "you're going to stay where you belong now, aren't you?"
I never should have opened my big mouth.
LeAnn R. Ralph