Images from my very own Dust Bowl

I walked outside this evening, just before dark.  It looked as if maybe, just maybe, it might rain this evening.  I have my fingers crossed.  If it did, it would be the first time in a month.  If it doesn’t reach the triple digits tomorrow, it will be one of the handful of times since it’s rained.  Everything is burning up.  Turning brown.  The grass crackles when you step on it.  I live on a small farm.  In order to keep our garden green, we have to water it for hours every single day.  If we missed a day, we would have zero chance at harvesting a single vegetable. 

It’s getting scary.  In the back of my mind, I worry the water will run out.  Or that by some fluke accident, the crispy grass will catch fire.  Or that one of the animals will overheat.  Any number of scary situations cross my mind every day.  I have an overactive imagination, but my mind doesn’t have far to go in this situation.  The ground is parched.

I worry that the dust bowl will happen all over again.  I only have an inkling as to what it was like, but from what I’ve experienced so far it must have been a living hell.  I just hope it rains before it comes to that.

This is one of our pastures.  The whole pasture should be as green as the stripes.  They get water from our sewer’s lateral lines.  The rest of the pasture is crispy.

This little marigold grew from seed on it’s own.  It’s the one plant in our yard that is thriving.  We think it must be getting some water from the pipe that is behind it.  Every other flower shows some kind of sun damage or is drooping and near death.  This flower is defiant. 

You might remember that I love small town newspapers…

I got a hold of a copy of my favorite paper today.  If you act quickly, you might experience the best that rural life has to offer.

I will only make two comments:

1) Apparently, zucchini races are exactly what they sound like.  People build cars from zucchini and race them down a track.  Seriously.

2) I read aloud that you could stick around for the musical styling's of “Def Heifer” and it elicited a snort from a co-worker who recently moved here from St. Louis.  She only said, “I cannot believe I live here.” 

I don’t make these things up.  I promise.

Words

Faceless Angel

I wanted everyone to see this before I ruined it with a face. I'm no good at drawing faces. No good whatsoever.

Review: Riding Lessons by Sara Gruen

 

Sara Gruen wrote the novel Water for Elephants which I enjoyed and reviewed a few months ago.  I thought I’d give a second of her books a chance and purchased this book on a whim, (It’s a habit I’m trying to break since I don’t always read the books I buy.*) and then read on a whim as I tried to come to terms with my feelings for Mira Grant’s Deadline.  I’ve always been a fan of novels that feature horses or horse people or horse people and horses or any mix of horses and people really. 

Riding Lessons is the story of a middle-aged woman who ran away from her equestrian past after a tragic accident.  We meet her on the day that she learns the man she ran away with is cheating on her and wants a divorce.  To make matters worse, her teenage daughter is flunking out of school, and being a major league trouble maker.  As is her history, when faced with major issues in her life our heroine flees… back home to the life she fled in the first place.

This story is filled with broken people, broken lives, and broken horses, but it is also filled with hope.  Gruen tells a tale of healing, but before her characters can heal, she first has to break them down.  She isn’t afraid to make life happen to her characters.  I respect that.  By the time the story ends, you are rooting for the characters, and hoping for their sake (and yours, since by this time you have an emotional attachment to the characters), that everything will finally turn out okay.  Because really isn’t that all that anyone can ever truly hope for in life? 

I liked this book.  It wasn’t exactly what I was expecting at the time, but it was exactly the book I needed to read at the time that I read it.  It reminded me a lot of The Horse Whisperer (the book, not the movie).  I read that book at least three times as a teenager.  Sara Gruen knows how to tell a story.  I appreciate a good story.

*In case you were wondering… In the time it took for me to write this review, I found out that Riding Lessons is the first in a series.  I also found out that the second book is out, and is called Flying Changes.  I also bought that book… on a whim.  I can’t go wrong with it, right?  This habit will be the death of me.  I won’t have to go to rehab for a gambling/drinking/drug problem.  It' will be because I can’t stop buying books. 

This is not a book review of Deadline by Mira Grant

 

Happy #july4!!!

Seems I have a little video of the explosions I watched last night in celebration of #july4. I must admit, I was going to splice in the first couple of minutes of the Katy Perry boobFirework video. You know, make these explode from her chest. Alas, I had not the time to do that. So… in your heads, please imagine these fireworks are coming out of Katy Perry’s boobs. It will make me happy, and you will have celebrated #july4 in the very best way ever.