Wednesday October Fifteenth

Though I’d never brought it up in Monday’s post it rained all day that day. A light, easy kind of rain that lets every drop soak in. I’m not complaining but the ground is pretty much completely full of water after the twenty plus inches we’ve received through August and September. A nice long dry stretch would really come in handy about now. I wouldn’t miss the rain till next spring sometime. Preferably right after planting. Preferably a nice easy rain like we’ve recently had. But then when do I ever get what I want? I’ll get what I get and I won’t throw a fit. I may bitch a little though.

The wind blew like crazy yesterday out of the northwest. The crops dried out but the ground is still muddy. I think some corn may have been harvested yesterday. I know we’ll see combines rolling through cornfields this afternoon. I doubt we’ll see any running beans but I may be the one who makes a liar out of myself if it’s fit to cut at suppertime. I thought the ground was plenty moist on the eighty five acres I’ve already harvested. The stems were pretty moist too. I know I’ve never run as green of stems through doing beans as I have this year.  It’s not because I’m ahead of schedule either. I’m actually behind schedule, it’s just that Mother Nature is a lot further behind than I am.

Speaking of being behind. I think I’ll mess with fence all day. Yesterday I moved the cow herd across the creek to the west side but I never put the hot wire back up on the north end where they had run it down while it wasn’t hot. I make the north creek crossing hot wire hot with the wire running down the west side of the creek. It’s a good fifty yards in from the six wire barbed wire fence that comes right up to the water’s edge on both sides of the creek. I use the space between the barb wire and the hot wire as a buffer to let them think they are “out” before they actually are. After that I still have over a half mile of barb wire fence to roll up on the farm north of I-80. I hired a kid to take them off the posts but he didn’t want to roll them up. That takes real work so I guess that mission is mine. Should I decide to accept it.



Noble Barns

The classic Iowa barns. Mostly post and beam construction. Sounds like an avatar for an internet business. Write a post or however you catch the moment and beam it out over the internet. Or maybe just barely under it. One wouldn’t necessarily want to get caught in the spotlight when the wrong search engine fires up and starts spinning around. It’s best to be out of phase when the all seeing eye of Google scans by. To be oriented correctly to slip through the openings of the dragnet when those on high come dredging by. To have a little hyssop on the lentil to belie that passing over angel of death. That beam above the posts that frame the threshold out of hearth and home.

Even if your home is nothing but a hearthless barn. Any shelter from the wind and rain. Or snow. I started this post to talk about the barn. Not any particular barn but the concept of the barn. Basically a barley urn, according to Webster’s New Universal Unabridged Dictionary circa 1972. A place to store barley. Maybe initially but by the time I came along they were used to store about anything. I’d say horses but the horses were gone. The horse barns weren’t gone yet though. Neither were the cows, hogs, hay, straw, oats, and machinery. Today the machinery and hay is about all I use the barns for. They are worth their weight in rust as a place to keep my old paintless equipment in, bull or no bull.

I haven’t seen a new barn built since I helped build one down in Texas one hot summer years (and years) ago. Unless you count the imitation barn that was put up to be called a corn crib in town a few years ago. It’s used as a gas station office and a Dominoes pizza place. And this dominoes doesn’t deliver. The same guy built a house to look like a barn a few years before that. But a new barn shaped like a barn to be used to store stuff in I haven’t seen built since that one in Texas back in the early 1980’s. Granted that Texas barn was on an acreage not a farm. And it was going to store video game and vending machines instead of barley. But it was built like a real barn with a fancy hip roof and everything.

I can remember back when we were kids the barn becoming a spaceship on long rainy days. We would climb all the way to the top of the hay. Then climb the ladder on the end of the barn all the way to the top window up under the peak on the gable end. We would stand side by side on the 2×6 ledge below the window and take turns looking out the window into the falling rain. We thought the rain looked like the stars that used to stream by on Star Trek. So our imaginations would conjure up a space based reality we could run with all day. It beat the usual pastime of jumping off the hay bales into a pile of loose hay at the bottom. It also beat the work we usually had to do in that very same barn.

Back then we grew to like rainy days. Out in one of our classic Iowa barns


red barn : Old Barn       red barn : The towering peak of the roof of an historic old German style Bank Barn.



UK Reign




The rock is Precious. The paper is Fiat. The schism is Artificial. Yet the oldest game on earth.

That game is Geo-brinksmanship. Living on the razor’s edge. Move too slow and it settles in. Deep. Move too fast and your sliced in two. The Goldilocks gait. Just right. Just in time solutions. To just installed conditions. Just in case you were wondering. Justice seldom arrives in time. In our time. It’s been said vengeance is The Lord’s and He is beyond time. He is beyond space. He is beyond explanation. He just IS. It takes a load off knowing.

We’ve nothing really to do in the grand schemes so I suppose we’re free to be protesters for a day. Or two. Or few. Prepaid partisans. Till the snipers come out. Then is it really worth the twenty five bucks it pays per day? Fifty? Not even if smokes are ten bucks a pack. Five billion don’t buy the loyalty it once did. Especially behind the old Red Curtain. It spreads out kind of thin. A little like the oil.

I think the Chinese received a better deal. But then don’t they always. Spring is here if only barely now. There’s jobs out on the farms. Well, work anyway. Put down the placard and hop in the Packard. Head for the hills. Hard currency takes hard cargoes. China won’t take them all. Thank God! The country has bills to pay. Grain can spread the wealth. And health.

April showers bring mayflowers. Mayflowers full of pill grims. How many a day? Cloudy and cold. Seek professional help before attempting a dosage reduction. That boat sailed a long time ago. That boat has hit the doc. And run him clean over. Reeducation. A task on the farm perhaps. Livestock sector? Same drugs different mugs. Wash your hands before returning to work. Or better yet, take a shower. Ukulele.