110
I look at the weather station.
watch hot wind bend juniper, mesquite.
Off and on clicks electricity, then off.
15 minutes, 20 minutes, 25,30,35.
Slowly, interior temperature rises.
I find the coolest place, read, worry
about refrigerated food.
40 minutes, 45.
Switch flips, ceiling fans whir.
I think: how could anyone live
in this heat without air conditioning.
One happy plant resides outside,
from somewhere in East Africa.
Everything else–wilted.
The saga of staying sane, learning new skills, keeping occupied continues. When I posted Covid19–1 a couple of days ago, the Panhandle of Texas had two cases, now we have ten, one of whom, at the age of 39, has died. Another 30 something is in critical condition. A case was announced this morning at Cannon Air Force Base just across the state line.
Yet, I can think of positives arriving from this: people at home reading, spending more time with family, cooking, playing games, relearning old skills.
What have I done recently? I teach high school English and Spanish. Starting Monday, we will be teaching online using Google Classroom. I have used it before but not for over a year. Probably overkill, but yesterday I spent something like four hours taking a class on how to use it and relearning. More to come today. I have the English lessons hand written, all planned out. Now I have to convert them to Google Classroom. Perhaps with Spanish I will change course totally and use Duo Lingo for many of the lessons. Did that last year, but not this one.
Luckily, living out in country, having horses, having lots of gardening to accomplish makes this quite a bit easier. Horses have to be fed and cared for, weeds require hoeing or mulching, dead wood must be cut out of woody plants, the tasks seem endless. Since we are having a heatwave and temperatures are considerably above normal, I can hike, walk the long drive to the mailbox, eat lunch on the patio as I did yesterday. The mustard weeds out by the barn suddenly grew more than two feet tall; it was driving me nuts–I cannot stand mustard weeds. Yesterday afternoon, I got out the tractor and mowed. They are tough. When I fed the horses this morning, I saw a few had regenerated themselves and were sticking up again. I might have to do this over.
In the midst of this crisis, I have noticed far too many people around here seem not to take this seriously. It appears, looking at the news, that this is a problem in many parts of the country. Do we want to be like Italy? I received a message from Martina there. More and more dying and no end in site. When I stepped out on the patio this morning to take the photo that appears below, the traffic on the main road was as loud as it is when nothing is happening, when people are not asked to stay home. Is no one complying? Why?
Meanwhile I will take advantage of all the positive things I can find in this–communicate with friends and family all over the world, garden, cook, learn more Google Classroom, relearn some pieces on the piano, water before the predicted wind for tomorrow occurs, brush the shedding hair off my horses, read, and perhaps join the online Zumba class in San Antonio at 4. Life, even in times of crisis, is what you make of it.
Be safe! Learn something new! Laugh out loud!
In the Panhandle of Texas residents greet rain with joy. We rarely get enough and when it does rain, usually it brings lightning, thunder, sometimes hail, wind, downpours. Today was different. When I arrived home, I heard the waterfall running, saw droplets on the evergreens and flowers, saw flashes of sunshine.
Today Martina, my exchange student from Milano, Italy, and I went with my students of the Wildorado Cattle Company to work cattle on a ranch west of Amarillo. When I posted this on Facebook, a city friend asked what does working cattle mean. These were calves of various sizes, both male and female, all Angus.
First, a person on horseback heels a calf (ropes it by its hind feet) and drags it to the branding area. Then, depending on the size of the calf, a few persons flank it (hold it down) while a person gives it shots, e.g. vaccines, vitamins, another brands it with a hot iron, and someone else ear tags it. If it is a male, its testicles are cut off. Having raised cattle, this was not new to me. However, for a girl from Milano, it was the definitive Texas ranching experience.
I think we worked over a hundred calves during the morning which started at a chilly 47 with a strong West Texas wind. Later, in the afternoon it warmed up about 30 degrees. The wind just now finally quit; it is 8:54. Here are a couple of photos of the day’s activities.
Three people from the National Angus Association headquartered in St. Joesph, Missouri, were there making a documentary. Although currently I live in the country in the Panhandle of Texas, I grew up on a farm about 30 miles from St. Joesph. Small world.
Tan grass stretches miles and miles as far as eyes can see.
The water in the indigo bird bath evaporates in one day.
Playa lakes, full last summer, surrounded then in emerald grass, lay waterless.
Thirty-five miles an hour winds create fog-like clouds of dust across the horizon.
Grit, wind hurled, buffets cars and trucks driving down the long, straight highways.
Dust-fed sunrises and sunsets clad skies in orange, hot pink, vermillion, violet, mauve.
Day 127 with no measurable precipitation.
Note: I wrote this ten days ago. That evening it rained .01 inches. None since then. We are approaching four months with just that .01 inches, nothing more. Every time it warms and the winds come, the weather forecast mentions high fire danger. All counties and state parks near here have burn bans. March is a windy month.
Today, three of us drove up into the northwest corner of the Panhandle of Texas to visit this national grassland which adjoins the Kiowa National Grassland in New Mexico. The two grasslands together equal more than 200,000 acres. Originally, created after the Dust Bowl in an attempt by the government to mediate the destruction caused by the giant Dust Bowl storms, the grasslands are now managed by the US Forest Service. The US acquired much of the land when its owners gave up and left the land owing money to banks. As a consequence these national grasslands are interspersed with privately owned grassland. Ranchers, some of whom refer to themselves as grass farmers, can lease this land and graze it along with their adjoining property. Moderately grazed land often supports a more diverse wildlife and plant population than overgrazed or ungrazed land.
To reach the Rita Blanca we drove past Dalhart, Texas, and turned on a Farm to Market road which led to an area with camping and picnic tables plus restrooms. Campers and picnickers must bring their own water. The only trees are those deliberately planted in days long past. We saw or heard many birds there, including orioles. Below is the entrance to the Thompson Grove camping and picnic area.
After a comprehensive briefing from the park ranger, a wildlife biologist, and a range specialist, we took a hike across the grassland.
While this may look like a boring green sea to some, upon close inspection, this land teams with many species of grasses and flowers. Flowers I saw today include Fineleaf Woolly-White, which is not white but bright yellow, Prairie Zinnia, Broomweed, Sundrops, Engelmann Daisy, Mexican Hat, Winecup, Tansey Aster, all of which I have at my own place an hour and 1/2 away. However, I saw two flowers I have never seen before, White Pricklepoppy and a native Morning Glory which has huge hot pink flowers. While the Pricklepoppy has spectacular, large white flowers with gold centers, the plant looks like a very prickly grayish thistle.
Although I knew some of the species of grasses there, I could not identify the others. However, the park ranger knew them all. I might remember some with the help of a book. Many I have around my land but still cannot identify all of them. I do know blue grama, side oats grama, buffalo grass, and a few others.
Many grassland and wildlife research projects done there produce useful information. One current project deals with seismic activity.
If you are driving cross country anywhere near Dalhart, Texas, or Clayton, New Mexico, take a short break and head to these grasslands.
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