Out to Pasture: Sahara North Summer

One of the driest and hottest summers on record shrivels to a close.

The water level of the front pond is the lowest we've ever seen it.

The receding water has left mudflats around the island.

To beat the heat, Nine has been excavating a tummy-cooling hole in the barn. She will soon have the entire foundation uncovered.

Or maybe she’s digging a tunnel to meet her Chinese counterparts.

Despite the drought, Barb’s lamppost flowers still look good in a sea of brown;

they get occasional drenchings with the goats’ waste water.

Two of the apple trees have no fruit – mainly because they were zapped by a late frost that nipped the blossoms.

The 3 other trees display a remarkable output in spite of the drought.

The gnarled old survivor in back

is especially prolific this year, as the blue jays have discovered.

Wildfires to our north add to the smoky air drifting down from Canada

prompting frequent air quality alerts.

We might as well be smoking Camel non-filters.

For all our lack of rain, we did have one thunderstorm – that took out our cordless phone/answering machine.

After lightning fried an older system a year earlier,

we plugged the replacement (along with the office computer and printers) into an expensive, well reviewed surge protector,

which was in turn plugged into a 3-hole outlet. We naively assumed that all 3-hole outlets are grounded.
Apparently we were wrong.

Until we can get an electrician to run a new grounded line from the electrical service panel to the outlet, we unplug everything at the first rumble of thunder.

The MeadowWild herd is down to the smallest it’s been

since Barb got her first two goats in 2007.

The current roster consists of grande dame Kuiper

her daughter Planet Nine

and Cheeky’s orphan daughter Tzest.

The ladies enjoy their daily forage outings.

With this year's explosion of milkweed, we're hoping for an explosion of Monarchs.

Paper wasps are still adding on to their condo on the back of the house.

On the feline front, Vigilant Cat has been sporting a sassy new

spiderweb hairdo.

Creature of habit that she is, Momma Kitty rolls around on our driveway at dusk each evening,

takes a bath, and then heads for her cozy refuge on top of hay bales in the barn.

Despite Covid warnings, Dustin made his annual trek to the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally

on his Harley-Davidson Fatboy Terminator

which he traded for a Vincent Black Lightning 1952

(in honor of Richard Thompson).

It broke down near Summerset and he flew the rest of the way home out of Rapid City. Alas, he tossed down too many Shirley Temples during the flight and grew belligerent;