This, That and More Heat

 

For a major portion of my life, I thought the lyrics to a well-known, oft-sung country hymn told me that they were "bringin' in the sheep," and so that's what I would utter while singing along. 

I don't remember the circumstances of just when I learned that those folks were actually really happy while bringing in the "sheaves." 

Nonetheless, I did find it very easy to rationalize that it made perfect sense to rejoice while bringing in the "sheep."  Kinda like cats! 

After all, I've heard that unless you have a Border Collie around, bringing in the sheep could get challenging, so I didn't allow myself to feel too dumb about mouthing the wrong word while singing that age-old song.  

Well, this morning I had a "bringing in the sheep" moment when I looked at the photo above and started singing in my mind the song we often used to listen to at our kitchen table when my dad would put his cracked Wilf Carter album on the record player in the living room, crank the volume up and talk to us about those good ol' time Western singers he loved. 

Thankfully, for us, especially my mother,  Wilf Carter aka Montana Slim went by the wayside when my brother Mike introduced Harold to Willie Nelson.

I think we all rejoiced when Willie would get the nod for kitchen-table listening over Wilf. 

Anywho, one of the songs on that worn-out Wilf Carter album was entitled "All around the Water Tank."

And, so this morning "All around the Water Tank, waitin' for the rain" resounded in my head, especially because I'm pretty sure most cows, horses, deer and other thirsty animals would be rejoicing if some rain would come. 

Perfect picture, I thought, for these times, and a perfect song to post to my blog today.  

Well, everything seemed perfect until I went to You Tube and found a version of the song by Ramblin' Jack Elliott, listened to the first couple of lines and quickly realized that nobody back in Wilf Carter's day was waiting for rain around the water tank. 

Twas the TRAIN they were waiting for a thousand miles from home AND the homesick guy was actually sleeping in the RAIN.  

Geez, Marianne, how can you be so dense!  

Well, such hearing (or mental) impairment happens during these life journeys off ours, and when we learn the error of our singing, we always learn something.  

Never again in my life will I look at cows around the water tank and think they are waiting for the rain, even if it happens to be true.

D'ya suppose those cows are waiting for a train so they can go find greener pastures with a little more moisture? 

From now on, the train and the sheaves will get proper placement whenever I sing along on those songs. 

All that said, it would be nice for those cows and all the animals depending on sustenance from the ground if we'd get a little rain. 

Yesterday I posted a photo of weed, asking for guidance on what the heck kind of weed it is.  I wanted the guidance cuz it seems to be taking over out in our fields. 

My friend Lori Jasman, who specializes in weeds and their control, told me that weed was growing out at her place too.  Same with my friend Ruthann.  

Lori eventually told me it was called "marestail," to which I responded that I thought the shorter bushier model which grows profusely in my asparagus garden was marestail.  

She then said there are weeds called marestail and there are weeds called horsetail.  

When I looked up a picture of marestail, it did look like what's growing on our place. 

Lori said "Mow it down." 

So, I will. 

Later, after telling him of Lori's asssessment, Bill said that the weeds are opportunists and when they see an advantage, like NO RAIN, they take advantage of the situation.  

After all, who knows a flower or veggie which can grow faster than a weed, even if you water and fertilize the heck out of it. 

The weeds are there waiting, but they don't even really need fertilizer or water to spread their love everywhere.  

So, I guess that's why we are seeing so much marestail around this year. 

Maybe some rain along the way would have helped the grass squeeze it out. Who knows?

Anyway, it's dry, and we're headed for another heat wave after dipping to the 80s for a few days. 

And, with this heat wave, I'm noticing another irritant that waits around the water tank, in the eaves above our deck, in the barn and any ol' place humans happen to be.  

Hungry and thirsty bees have begun to show their wrath for no rain and too much hot. 

One chased me so aggressively last night I had to drop the hose and run for the house.  

I also quit a fence-painting job yesterday afternoon because the nasty pests would not leave me alone. 

I guess we're in a stage that feels so familiar here in North Idaho where resilience will have to guide us through all this.  

Been there, done that many times, so we should survive the heat and the lack of rain.  

Thank God for the Olympics which give us an excuse to sit inside and escape the nasty elements outside. 

It's Sunday, hymn-singing day, so I guess I'll go sing about sheaves and then stand at the water tank.

Maybe a train will come along. 

Excessive heat does this to you, ya know!

Happy Sunday.  

When tansy is one of the few bright and colorful sights along the dusty roads,  we know we're in desperate times.
 

Annie and Miriam carried their celebratory beer to the top of Mt. St. Helens yesterday.  

All went well.