Son Yancey and our granddaughter Emmy will arrive tomorrow (Thursday) to spend the weekend with us, so we went to town Monday morning for food and supplies. I shopped first thing to avoid the heat of the day. As usual, I’m nervous about the food. Will I have what people want to eat, and will I have enough?
It was hot in the Valley, with Tuesday being a triple-digit day. The weather service had issued a “heat alert.” This year is the first I’ve been aware of heat alerts. Maybe I just didn’t notice.
We thought about coming back to the farm early on Tuesday, but I wanted to stay until my Echo Show 8 was delivered. Now that we have improved internet at the farmhouse, I wanted an Echo Show just like the one in town. So yes, the mailman delivered it in the late morning, and we loaded up and returned to the farm.
The farmhouse was pleasantly cool when we arrived, but it was one of those summer evenings that didn’t cool down – still 88 at 7-8:00 p.m., still 82 at 9:30.
.jpg)
.jpg)
One
recent night, I awoke after midnight to see beautiful light play to the north. Lightning?
Northern lights? Or something else? My dad’s family – the homesteaders here –
were well-acquainted with the night sky, and they used to sit out on the
kitchen porch late into the summer’s night, and apparently they could see the
northern lights. Last night about 1:00 a.m., I saw them again, and this time I
awakened Mike. We saw them first to the northwest, and they gradually played
eastward along the horizon – beautiful yellow-orange flashes. We watched for about
half an hour. The photos here are the best Mike was able to capture with his
phone. Perhaps it's a lost cause to post them.
The early morning hours were pleasant. Mike mowed the lawn as a storm skirted around us. Just as I was getting ready to bake cookies, we noticed that it was suddenly warmer, so I postponed my baking and cleaned the kitchen instead. I’m feeling quite virtuous today.
.jpg)
In the process of trimming the yard, Mike found yet another baby rattler near the front steps.
Last week, Mike washed the farmhouse windows inside and out. I mentioned at the time that it's difficult to take cleaning seriously here because the next time the farmer comes in with machinery, the house will again be coated with dust. Sure enough! Here he came this afternoon to work the fields, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake. KW
 |
| And this was just his first pass |
Ugh! The dust cloud is terrible. I finally got out and washed my windows--almost the same time as Dad was doing yours. It's been at least a year and it needed to be done. I used to try for a bi-annual schedule.
ReplyDeleteWere you and Dad in agreement that you were seeing northern lights?
The farmer only went around once. The machinery is parked at the top of Plank's Pitch. I suspect he'll be back. We don't know the purpose of this work.
ReplyDeleteWe are both reluctant to say it's northern lights. We just don't know. It was worth watching, whatever it was.
I know you feel good about your clean windows.
The farmer probably was making a fire break I would guess.
DeleteSounds like you saw the lights just about the same time as we had a terrific thunderstorm up here! Never have I heard such booming thunder!! I think it was right overhead.
ReplyDeleteAnd dust! The peril of living surrounded by farmland. We are a bit further from the fields, but we get it, too. I think I could dust everyday and still fill a Swiffer. I have friends who live by the coast and they say no dust, which made me jealous until they said they have to deal with mold. Guess I'll take the dust.
Well, an hour or so later, I did see lightning but we had no thunder. These storms seem to happen regionally. We don't know where they will strike and maybe drop a spot of rain.
ReplyDeleteGotta love that Swiffer. It saves the back. I have two with short handles and one with a long handle.
We thought of a firebreak, too, but whatever he's doing, he's not turning the soil and the dead vegetation remains.
ReplyDelete