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I feel like we could make a movie like the old Wagon Train series that showed the terrible hardships of moving west. The grass is gone, the ponds are dried up and the trees in our yard are dropping leaves. We are dusty and dry as hardtack biscuits, and the thunder clouds have been dropping two and three inches of water on spots, mostly on concrete. We fed the steers hay this afternoon.

July is always hot and basically dry. We were raised to know this kind of weather, but we act like we sure expect better! Sorta reminds me of Eskimos fussing about the forecast of a blizzard. But we are gonna live through this spell or die trying, and then we will tell tales about it for the grands in years to come.

I have been cleaning out the purple mint in the barn lot and around water tanks. Some of the tops have been nipped off, and I do not intend to allow addictions if at all possible. The ticks have not been so bad as they were earlier this spring, and my close relative reminded me mosquitoes are not driving us back in at dusk when drinking iced tea on the porch. So, some blessings came along with the bad.

We have about got the pinkeye cleared up. Got the eye patches from the vet, and I guess he knows what he is talking about. We haven't lost any eyes as of today, and I didn't find any new ones as I scouted around this morning.

The offspring have been getting the old bullpens rewired and we plan on using some better kind of wire this year. Some of the wire is still good, reusable and will be fine for several years. The rusted out pieces and the ones that the bulls have ruined will be higher-grade wire. I am surprised we have had no trouble with our bulls in neighbors' yards or, worse, in with their cows! It just takes time and a good banker to improve and fix what you can afford to fix. We've been here so long we can tell about the great flood drying up.

My close relative is going to visit her sister who lives in the East. She has airplane tickets purchased, clothes packed and enough homemade TV-style dinners frozen up to feed me 30 days. She said she would only be gone about six days but she did not intend for me to graze on greasy hamburgers and French fries twice a day while she is gone. I would not have done that; I would have had a steak at least once a day! She will enjoy herself, and I will miss her!

It is my opinion, and everyone has one, I still like the summer times of the year. I like to hear the mockingbirds, watch the little rabbits and see fawns growing up fast. I pray for rain, dislike ticks and trap all the armadillos and possums I can. I check the feed troughs in the horse barn for possum droppings every morning. I sure enjoy sitting out on the porch as the sun sets and again when it rises, coffee hot and fresh and time to pray for a good day. So we are again in a drought and I pray often for rain, but we can't overlook the good, because there is that!

Look for me in town next week at meal time and I will sell some excellent TV dinners pretty cheap!

Bill is the pen name used by the Gravette-area author of this weekly column. Opinions expressed are those of the author.

Editorial on 07/25/2018

Print Headline: I still like the summer times of the year

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