Posted by: nativeiowan | September 30, 2019

2019 v9.septemberalmostgone


Golly! Time sure flies… sitting in QLD, in the middle of a drought, with teens home for school for 2 weeks, as seasons change, and my shoulder heals.

As long as I cook heaps of meat daily, the teens are happy – and even useful. Both are big and strong and actually do a lot to contribute, all in all.

Been on the farm, then back at the ranch. Two teens and two toddlers. Both a challenge. Neither easier than the other. Both a pain in the arse. The teens useful, the toddlers cute.

Back to the farm tomorrow. Without the toddlers.

So I sit, I sit and listen:

I hear the breeze. It’s not enough to ring my Mr. Frog wind chime

Funny how old meaningless things can mean so much. A ten-dollar wind chime I have repairs many times. 10 years old, and a valuable possession. It’s quiet today/ right now.

But the wind, but the wind, I hear it distinctly. The palms rustling, the trees talking. Too early in the eve for birds to be active. A few solitary calls. No mating and ruckus stuff like the doves and kookaburras have been of late. They hang around and make one hell of a fuss. The males preen and sing as the female plays hard to get.

The sky is powder blue with non-promising clouds. Thick grey-ish clouds but I don’t feel moisture in the air.

We need rain.

And the beat goez on…

More later

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