And the Rain Comes and Goes
Jul. 27th, 2010 01:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dancinghorseMore update coming, and some Beta stuff, too, but today is Flat Stanley Day. Last week I farmsat at Casa Corona, which is a gig I love--the drive to and from is beautiful and ponies and kitties and Volunteer Dog, oh boy. All four cats came out for me, which was rather amazing, because Cat Number Four is even more Invisible than his brother, my BT.
But a week-plus of mornings starting at 5:30 and me not sleeping because of the hot and the humid, then doing the trip again in the afternoons, kind of ate my writer-blogger-communicator brain. I got to revel in the AC while cuddling kitties, and got a lot of copyediting done for a freelance gig, which was a win. And there was only one afternoon with flood watches, which I'd prepared for and![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tcastleb was able to step in and get everybody fed here. It wasn't a communicative week but it was a good week.
Living at home and having no commute means I bypass a lot of the hassle of the roads; if I go out, I do it in the off hours. Wow, has the town grown--the backups when the trains go by will literally stretch for a mile and more. And nobody seems to have figured out that there's a way around to a different highway exit, which is much less crowded and doesn't cross two sets of railroad tracks. It really brought home to me how serene it is here at DHF. The lie of the land conceals the masses of suburban houses, and we're just far enough off the main road that it's quiet at night except for the wail of the train whistles and the yipping of coyotes. No wonder people sleep so well here, and melt into puddles of contentment during the days.
There were interesting moments. The family of javelina that crossed the road near Casa Corona one morning. The mother quail I stopped for near the turn to my side road, who turned out to be fetching a tiny, tiny baby from the other side and herding it toward the rest of the family--baby was terribly confused and mama was very concerned, and I was ever so glad I was alert enough to stop and not plow on over them. Mama got baby safely across and I went on with a sigh of relief.
And then there was the Arizona roadkill. One morning on the way back (which means it happened in the hour between), I saw cop cars with flashers at max. Figured they'd caught a van full of illegals--which despite the shriekfest in the "liberal" media has been a much rarer occurrence lately than it used to be--but no. Somebody (possibly a hit and run, though there's some question as to who hit whom first, since there was no vehicle there with the damage it should have taken) had had a literal run-in with a range bull. Angus probably, though he looked like a fighting bull. (And the range bulls will charge vehicles--my mom's friend who lives down near Casa Corona had her van totaled by one once.)
He lost. And there he was. I felt for the rancher; a bull like that is worth a fair amount.
He was still there that afternoon. And the following morning. By which point, in 100-degree heat, it was obvious he was there. Huge waste of prime steaks, really; since he was gone anyway. Then finally he was taken away, which must have been an operation, because he was a big guy.
Life and death in the rural West.
And for Serious Coolness, there was something I'd have seen anyway, but still. Barn gopher snake was out and about, and I walked behind it as it made its way down the arena. It's over six feet long, but still rather young: not very big around yet. Beautiful healthy snake, with plenty of ground squirrels to keep it fed.
My horses were feeling rather neglected, but they survived. Ephiny made it Very Very Very Clear she wants to keep up with her saddle work. I hope to get her backed on Thursday when S is here. We'll see. She was hobbling this morning--somebody whose name is probably Camilla tromped her ankle on the way out for breakfast--but it didn't look serious, it had just happened, and usually these things resolve in a few minutes. She should be well over it by Thursday.
And today I'm a puddle. I had intended to go and get grain, as the can is empty, but the horses will have to make do with hay and alfalfa pellets until tomorrow: after I'd decided to bag it, the rains came in, and it's been storming off and on all day. Beautiful cool air. Such a relief after the weeks of heavy heat. Good call on my part, too, as I'd have been hauling bags of grain in an open truck if I'd gone out as planned, and been caught in the first storm.
Manana.
And then Reality will be back, with Work and Writing and all of that. I'm ready for it. But not today.
But a week-plus of mornings starting at 5:30 and me not sleeping because of the hot and the humid, then doing the trip again in the afternoons, kind of ate my writer-blogger-communicator brain. I got to revel in the AC while cuddling kitties, and got a lot of copyediting done for a freelance gig, which was a win. And there was only one afternoon with flood watches, which I'd prepared for and
tcastleb was able to step in and get everybody fed here. It wasn't a communicative week but it was a good week. Living at home and having no commute means I bypass a lot of the hassle of the roads; if I go out, I do it in the off hours. Wow, has the town grown--the backups when the trains go by will literally stretch for a mile and more. And nobody seems to have figured out that there's a way around to a different highway exit, which is much less crowded and doesn't cross two sets of railroad tracks. It really brought home to me how serene it is here at DHF. The lie of the land conceals the masses of suburban houses, and we're just far enough off the main road that it's quiet at night except for the wail of the train whistles and the yipping of coyotes. No wonder people sleep so well here, and melt into puddles of contentment during the days.
There were interesting moments. The family of javelina that crossed the road near Casa Corona one morning. The mother quail I stopped for near the turn to my side road, who turned out to be fetching a tiny, tiny baby from the other side and herding it toward the rest of the family--baby was terribly confused and mama was very concerned, and I was ever so glad I was alert enough to stop and not plow on over them. Mama got baby safely across and I went on with a sigh of relief.
And then there was the Arizona roadkill. One morning on the way back (which means it happened in the hour between), I saw cop cars with flashers at max. Figured they'd caught a van full of illegals--which despite the shriekfest in the "liberal" media has been a much rarer occurrence lately than it used to be--but no. Somebody (possibly a hit and run, though there's some question as to who hit whom first, since there was no vehicle there with the damage it should have taken) had had a literal run-in with a range bull. Angus probably, though he looked like a fighting bull. (And the range bulls will charge vehicles--my mom's friend who lives down near Casa Corona had her van totaled by one once.)
He lost. And there he was. I felt for the rancher; a bull like that is worth a fair amount.
He was still there that afternoon. And the following morning. By which point, in 100-degree heat, it was obvious he was there. Huge waste of prime steaks, really; since he was gone anyway. Then finally he was taken away, which must have been an operation, because he was a big guy.
Life and death in the rural West.
And for Serious Coolness, there was something I'd have seen anyway, but still. Barn gopher snake was out and about, and I walked behind it as it made its way down the arena. It's over six feet long, but still rather young: not very big around yet. Beautiful healthy snake, with plenty of ground squirrels to keep it fed.
My horses were feeling rather neglected, but they survived. Ephiny made it Very Very Very Clear she wants to keep up with her saddle work. I hope to get her backed on Thursday when S is here. We'll see. She was hobbling this morning--somebody whose name is probably Camilla tromped her ankle on the way out for breakfast--but it didn't look serious, it had just happened, and usually these things resolve in a few minutes. She should be well over it by Thursday.
And today I'm a puddle. I had intended to go and get grain, as the can is empty, but the horses will have to make do with hay and alfalfa pellets until tomorrow: after I'd decided to bag it, the rains came in, and it's been storming off and on all day. Beautiful cool air. Such a relief after the weeks of heavy heat. Good call on my part, too, as I'd have been hauling bags of grain in an open truck if I'd gone out as planned, and been caught in the first storm.
Manana.
And then Reality will be back, with Work and Writing and all of that. I'm ready for it. But not today.
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no subject
Date: 2010-07-27 08:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-27 10:45 pm (UTC)It's been pouring here all afternoon. You are officially glad we're home -- we barely made it back from town in time to get across the big wash. It was a close thing -- I felt myself begin to slide in the Civic, turned back toward the center hump, and made it through. Five minutes later, and it would have been completely impassable. We were going to get groceries this afternoon, but no. We'll be lucky to get out tomorrow morning.
no subject
Date: 2010-07-28 02:56 am (UTC)And I cannot wait until I can get into a HorseCamp!
no subject
Date: 2010-07-28 03:56 pm (UTC)