The state of my rural Texas internet

- My internet service -

The way I get internet is to turn on my cell phone hotspot and connect to my laptop. The phone is placed in a strategic position, atop a mirror, to obtain the maximum service in this area, two bars.

I've had satellite internet, but not since 2012, when DishTV changed their provider from WildBlue to whoever, and expected me to pay for new equipment. Perhaps, if they had been forthright about the change, I would have been willing to pay. Instead, they used a service call situation to say my dish was irreparably damaged and I needed all new equipment (after I took down the old dish, I saw all it needed was a new transponder, a small one or two inch box, that water had leaked into after the casing was broken by hail ).

Also, I told DishTV, before the installer came out, that I would not be paying for a new pole or whatever, a gimmick that has been used on me at least three times, to get me to hand out $100 on the spot. The installer asked for the money, I yelled, and that was the end of that.

Every once in a while I'll do a long search session to find new service, but the heavy handed sales jargon and the contracts and  the credit check, which will cause my credit rating to go down a couple of points, discourages me.

Also, I want internet service that will allow the playing of video games. The kids like that. It's just not available.

Until a real solution is found, I will continue to transmit these words via hotspot.

We all fell in the pit

- West of Camp Springs -

Hopefully not! The title of this post is just an allusion to a sitcom I like, Parks and Rec.

Anyway, the purpose for the activity that was mentioned last post has come to light. It's a huge water pit being dug for forthcoming oilfield activity. A water well was drilled on this piece of land back in January, according to a well report on the Texas Water Development Board website.

Other interesting information from the TWDB site is that Fisher County is in the Clear Fork Groundwater Conservation District, atop the Seymour major aquifer, and Blaine and Dockum minor aquifers. I'm not sure how well I deciphered this, because I clicked on a random well on a map on the site, which just happened to come up as a well of one of my relatives, Floyd Weems, and it says his well was drilled in the Whitehorse Aquifer, while other information points to the Whitehorse being in the San Angelo area.

According to the Well Owners Guide to Water Supply, published by Texas A & M, we are considered the North-Central Plains.

This is one of those times when the amount of information is too much for my mind to hold. Go on, just do a search for Texas aquifers and prepare to be overwhelmed.

More digging and dozing is going on at a new spot just west of the Camp Springs Cemetery, in Scurry County. This is directly across from the Houston 76 Unit, a horizontal well. There was a patch of dead vegetation where they are digging. I guess I'll watch and listen and do some digging myself, and I'll report back here when I figure it out.

Another project

- Dozer work -

There's a little activity going on out here in the Hobbs area, this time a mile west of my place. I don't know if it's domestic or oilfield related. I haven't found any drilling permits for this specific site, unless it's like Tigger and it's an offshoot from another location. There's an old dry hole very close to where the land is being dozed, and there's a new permit south of the area. Time will tell.

Where are the pickles?

- Pickles -

I broke up with my boyfriend several months ago, and I have convinced myself, not once, or twice, but three times, that he has come back and stolen my pickles.

It's only a brief belief, but I go to get the pickles and can't find them and start frantically searching for them. One time it was as simple as moving the tea picture to find them; one time I was truly out; and lastly, there was a new jar in the cabinet.

It's truly ridiculous to think that someone would go to such trouble to take something so innocuous, which makes me think it's genius.

I don't want to reunite, but sometimes it nice to think someone would be thinking of me, even if it was just to steal my pickles.

Bulletin boards have the facts

- A sunrise in Scurry County -

I've found that going around to county courthouses and reading the notices on the bulletin boards is a quick and easy way to get a factual and interesting view of what's going on in an area. A lot of information can be gleaned in a fifteen minute stop.

I went by the Mitchell County Courthouse this week and found the agenda for the county appraisal meeting, a block of lots up for sale at Colorado City Lake, a nice office job opening, and a will probation notice for someone I do business with. What a quiet and non-invasive way to get news.

That being said, another way to quietly get news is to scour the internet, especially when you have oodles of time to plunge down rabbitholes, like I do. Here are some things I've found today:

Fisher County Tax Sales Dec. 4

Trustee Sale for 109 W. McArthur, Rotan, Dec. 5

Sweetwater properties for bid

The Sweetwater properties link is part of a website for the Texas Communities Group. It has many areas in Texas where you can buy little lots for little money. I found this page while perusing the Nolan County Appraisal District  site.

Back to actually, physically, finding information about properties: going down to the local appraisal or tax offices and getting a paper record usually nets more information. Sometimes the people I come across have a tidbit or two of news that will be useful or interesting. Ambiance is not overrated and is hard to come by in cyberspace.

Crazy about links

It's a cold and windy day, with lots of time to while away, so I thought I'd share some links I like to use. I'm a sucker for a database.

Texas Unclaimed Property
Texas Crime Records
(List of multiple links)
Texas Criminal History Search
(Small fee for search, less than $5)
Tx DPS Sex Offender Registry
Texas Criminal Dept of Justice Offender Search
Tx Board of Nursing License Verification
Tx Board of Nursing LVN Verification
Tx Board of Nursing RN Verification
Tx Dept of Aging & Disability, Nurse Aide Employability Status
(Employee Misconduct Registry, also includes Medication Aides and other employees at DADS regulated facilities)
Tx Health & Human Services Licensing, Credentialing and Regulation
(Check if Child Daycare or Nursing Homes are licensed, other links)
Tx Comptroller Taxable Entity Search
Texas Sales Taxpayer Search

Fishin' 'n' frackin'

- Sandhill Cranes -

Going down a rabbit hole this week, I discovered that the first Zebco reel was invented by a Rotan man, one R. D. Hull. How this tidbit escaped my dad's encyclopedia of tales, I don't know.

According to the Oklahoma Historical Society, Hull approached Zero Hour Bomb Company in Tulsa with his invention, and they helped him manufacture and market the reel. The company produced electric bombs used in oil field fracturing at the time, in 1949.

I find it interesting when I run across things purported as new that are actually old. I thought all this fracking business was a recent venture, but Zero Hour started in 1932.  Looking back at other articles, fracking seems to have originated in the 1860's, although the materials used to accomplish the fracturing have changed vastly from the first days.

Back to the reel, I have to say that it is an object that has been ubiquitous throughout my life. I have fond memories of fishing off a dock at Lake Sweetwater and taking the kids fishing on local creeks, using simple and cheap Zebcos.

Here's an informational article from the American Oil & Gas Historical Society. There is a misspelled word in there, which usually puts me off, but it's a coherent and well-written documentation of the history of this particular reel, as well as fracking. Make it a game and find the gaff!

This link is just some fun, an article about a house that Hull had built in the shape of a fishing reel.

The photo today is of the incoming migration of Sandhill Cranes that inundate the Mitchell County area each fall. I have a video, but it won't load on here. I only wanted to post it because of the audio. The cranes make a lot of racket with their singing.

I'm wondering-

- questions -

Sometimes I think Google is broken. Sometimes it gives so many answers, I'm overwhelmed. Just one of many love/hate relationships that I'm involved in. Include in that group my cell phone, phone company, and television.

How do people have a good relationship with a doctor? And why do I have to pay the same for a nurse practitioner as a doctor? And it seems like a doctor is only good in an extreme circumstance, such as strep throat or gangrene.

I finally have a good dentist and I am grateful for that. That's a straight up situation. Pull this tooth, it hurts or it's falling out.

Why do magazines think they are my benevolent benefactor? Why do writers think they need to pander to me? Just give me the info, don't tell how to feel or try to lay a guilt trip on me. Work is the same way. Oh, thank you, I was not aware that I shouldn't wear a full wool suit or mukluks and a parka when the temperature is 112 Fahrenheit outside. What would I, a fully-grown person who manages my own life, know what to do without such handy tips?

Why isn't there a place to read a report about what is being sprayed and where by crop-dusters? Why doesn't anyone talk about what goes on at the county appraisal meetings? Why and how do people take over property that isn't theirs and they don't pay taxes on? Why do vehicles seem to be made to where my hand almost fits into a space to turn a screw, but not quite? What is the infatuation with people who have terrible morals and slatternly ways on television? Why does Samantha Bee have her own show? Do people really watch these shows or do the networks just use them as some kind of bad investment write-off? Why are nursing homes so bad but people act like they're fine? Why won't people use their blinkers?

I've become a grumpy old codger. My father would be proud.

Noises in the night

- Tigger? -

The other night, I could hear a pervasive, but almost imperceptive, rumble. I had a stopped up ear, so I couldn't tell if the sound was inside or outside of my head. After a few hours,with the sense that I could feel the sound as well as hear it, I decided to go find the source. I was thinking that fracking must be going on somewhere in the vicinity. It had already gotten dark, so I tried to follow the lights on the horizon, as the sound seemed to be everywhere.

I could have driven all night, because it was a circumstance of take your pick. There's drilling going on everywhere, but it's not so noticeable during the day. Not in Hobbs proper, but along US 180, south of Camp Springs. I've been driving right by the pictured lease and not noticing it. I drive long distances to everywhere, and I tend to automatic pilot from point A to point B.

The location on the Rail Road Commission map indicates this might be Tigger, but I'm not quite sure how to read the legend on the map. The permitted site is across the road from the well. I don't know the rules.

The brilliant Ms. Barr, or perhaps Mr. Werner, or Ms. Gilbert

This article had nothing to do with Hobbs, except that it is written by someone from Hobbs. Just a spin in this author's mind.

The last episode of the original series of Roseanne was very poignant. It's something I think about often.

The show was a product of it's time, even as it was a departure from other series that ran during that era. There were some After-School-Special aspects of a few episodes that I didn't appreciate. I lost weekly focus after they won the lottery. Whether that was due to lack of interest or the ability to watch more than three channels, I'm not certain. I don't even remember if I saw the last show when it originally aired, or in re-runs.

It was simple fare and ground-breaking at the same time, and easy enough to watch. It was also what I was watching when my kids were little. It's familiar and nostalgic for me.

When I heard there was going to be a 2018 continuance of the series, I had mixed feelings. I wanted to watch it (I needed a John Goodman fix), but I didn't see how the writers could resurrect Dan without ruining my affinity for that last episode. I went ahead and recorded the new show on my DVR, just in case I could see a way around it.

Then came the thing that Roseanne said that made everyone upset. I think comments made online are akin to passing notes in eighth-grade. I don't give much credence to them. On the other hand, I don't want to hear any political conversations or mentally involve myself in anything political. The articles that my eye could not avoid made the new show out to be very political. I think politics uses distraction to keep the everyman from looking at real data. With that, the new Roseanne was something I wouldn't even consider watching. I mulled over deleting the recordings after the show was cancelled.

One night last week or so, I was watching tv, one of those three original channels I used to watch in the old days, and a commercial came on and said that Goodman was going to be on the late night show after the news (I guess ALL ads aren't bad). I tuned in just to see him. He was talking about a new show called The Conners, a continuance of the continuance of Roseanne. I was struck by the way he spoke well of Roseanne and deflected any bashes that the host tried to lead. This piqued my interest in the newest show, and I wondered how they would deal with the disappearance of Roseanne. John didn't spoil it by giving details. I put the show on the DVR list, just in case.

Last night, I couldn't find anything to watch, so I pulled up the list and scrolled through. The second episode of The Conners was on there, but not the first. I thought I remembered seeing it on Hulu, so I went there and found it. After watching it, I was surprised and satisfied with the way the absence of Roseanne was dealt with. The new dynamics of old characters was interesting. I zoomed through the two episodes that have been on television so far.

There were some storylines I needed clarification on, though. Thankfully, I found the entire Roseanne reprise series tucked away in my DVR. Again, I was surprised and satisfied, this time with the way Dan's comeback was handled. "Of course!," I thought. I'm not going say exactly what I thought, because that's a spoiler. It was well-crafted and it didn't take anything away from that special last airing in 1997.


I don't think politics is what the show was about. I think it was about a family having the same types of conversations that I would find typical in my family. I heard the political stances from my parents over the years and learned to let it flow over my head, for the most part (Hah! I didn't talk to my mom for several weeks after a blow up over President Bush II). Learning to navigate all topics and not lose my mind is something I have striven for, not always successfully, in my familial dealings.

I'm looking forward to watching the rest of the second series, and I feel like I have found a jewel in the newest incarnation. I don't know if the grandstanding over the show was intentional or not, but the back and forth of emotions and opinions couldn't have been more carefully orchestrated to lead me to it. I have been drawn in.

I understand that all these shows can be watched somewhere on streaming television, but I think I'm going to go old-school, and enjoy The Conners one week at a time.

The names in the title of this article are all people who have been involved in the production of one or more of these various shows.

Hobbs homecoming time

Hobbs Homecoming will be held October 20th, 9 a.m., in the Hobbs School auditorium. Kyndra Lee will be performing during the ceremony. Lunch will be served in the Hobbs Gym annex afterward.

Cooler weather and reading real books

- Stormy windmills -

During July and August it seemed as though we were under a curse. The penetrating heat went on and on, like it would never end.

Now we are being treated to cooler weather and rain, one day more pleasant than the next. The windmills I've photographed are between Hermleigh and US 180, just as a cold front rolled in yesterday.

I began keeping a record of each day last October, jotting down bills paid or items bought. I looked back to see what the weather was like this day a year ago, but I didn't start noting that information until the end of October. By the 21st it was getting cold in earnest, and the first frost was November 9th, as my record reads.

I've been perusing a few books about some of the most media-exploited crimes of the 1980's and 1990's. What strikes me most in the reading of these books is that many of the people don't seem to be able to speak cognitively. There are so many broken sentences, and putting what should be at the end of the sentence at the beginning. It makes me wonder if we all really talk that way and we subconsciously add in the "and"s, "but"s and "or"s that are missing.

Another thing that bugged me was vagrant inconsistencies, especially in the Downs books. The changing description of the car, for one, kept me turning back the pages (much easier to do with a paper book than a kindle) to confirm that the previous account of the vehicle was different from what was now being offered. Was it a Nissan or a Datsun? Who knows?

They're good, fast reads, though, and if you would like to take a look at them, they are about Wanda Holloway, Diane Downs, and Candy Montgomery. I'm also reading fiction in between. You know, where people speak in a clear and concise manner.

The Templetons of Hobbs

- Templeton family, circa 1946 -

In this photo, from the left front, are Mickey, Haskell, Jimmy Don (Stapleton), Daisy (holding Jimmy Don), Les, then to the back, Johnny (Templeton) Stapleton, Imogene (Templeton) Taggart, and Barbara Taggart.

My grandparents, Daisy and Les, and their four children and the two grandchildren that existed at that time. All are now deceased.

I have this photo in my living room, where it will remind me of the people who came before me. I ponder their lives, and their deaths, and try to divine the meaning of life from their yester-selves. 

You can see that Dad, far left lower, and his niece, Barbara, upper right, were very close in age. Born the same year, in fact, and are only one name apart, alphabetically, on the list of births in Fisher county in 1940.

Dad told me that his mom was embarrassed that she was pregnant at the same time as her daughter, Imogene, and at the age of 38, how scandalous! The grands were given the nicknames Bitty Mother and Big Daddy in an effort to avoid confusion, I guess. I only referred to my grandmother as Daisy, but I saw cards and photos with Bitty Mother written on them. My grandfather died the year before I was born, but there was a lot of talk about Big Daddy when I was growing up.

I was going through my dad's baby book and found that he was called "Michael" when he was born. They referred to him as "Mickey" from the very beginning, but his birth name somehow migrated to "Mitchell". If Dad was here to tell me how that happened, I'm sure it would be a lively story.

Fall fake out

- Lizard with attitude -

Yesterday was the first day of fall, and it lived up to the hype. It was nice and cool. I even turned off the air conditioning and fans.

Today, though, the sun returned with gusto. I'm now sitting here with a sunburn and several mosquito bites after an all day mowing session. The mornings and nights are cooler, which is nice. I guess it's the same as every year, but I still like to comment on it. Safe small talk.

I saw a Texas Spiny Lizard as I was doing my rounds the other afternoon. He seemed to have a more severe expression than the usual lizard. Maybe I was in his path to somewhere.

El Capitan 63 has no equipment on it. No pump or tanks. It looks like no boom is imminent.

Relief from heat

- Well on the hill -

Or so I thought, until I went to mow my yard this afternoon. It's hot and humid and full of mosquitoes out there. There was a mosquito in my truck yesterday, so big I hit it with a stick! I wasn't going to fight hand to hand with that sucker.

They've been back on the hill, working El Capitan 63. It was pretty busy the other day, but now it looks lonely and abandoned. According to the Railroad Commission completion report, it's a shut-in producer. Now y'all go look at all that mess and tell me what it means.

I discovered last week that George Gantt died back in July. I talked to him in April or May and wondered why I hadn't heard back. Boy, that time is flying, ain't it. Another entity gone. Another page in the book of Hobbs dotted with a definite period,

The summer plunge

- Cloudburst on the plains -

Here we are in the midst of July and the heat has been stultifying for two months. It's unbearable to think we have two more months of it (or more), so overcoming that it drives all thoughts from the mind. The mornings are nice, but it's hard to be motivated in the afternoons. In other words, it's just like every other summer in this place.

Rain dancing all around us, but rarely straight upon us, is a common theme. It takes a lot of inner thoughts like "be grateful for what you've got" and massive air conditioning for me to ride through these times. I watched a documentary about the Atacoma Desert, where it sometimes doesn't rain for 50 years, and that made me feel a little better about our situation.

It would be nice if the bosses would let us wait until 10 a.m. to go into work, so we could make good use of the morning. 

One nice thing about this time of year is the plethora of garden goods. We have plenty of watermelon, squash, cantaloupe and other fresh food for ourselves and our friends.

I was trying to find a good dentist and looking at what my insurance had to offer. I came across an article that said insurance actually deteriorates the system because the dentists will be inclined to do procedures that are only included in your coverage, some that might be unnecessary. Isn't that exactly how health insurance works? I thought as much. I found a good, straight-forward dentist in Sweetwater. Since my insurance paid nothing, because the doctor is not in-system, I got to forgo the x-rays and rigamarole, and just got my tooth pulled, no fuss. Take that, Aspen and Achieve!

It would be a good morning to pop out to the Hobbs Cafe for some good home-style cooking. Give them a holler at (325) 574-4170 to see if they'll be open at 11 a.m. It's worth the drive!

Memories, fences and the wind

- Barbed wire fence mend -

The other morning I could have sworn I heard the back door open and my dad holler, "Is anybody home?", like he used to. Back then it bugged me when he did that, but I don't think I'd mind hearing him say it one more time.

I was taking a walk the other day and spotted the mend in the fence that's in today's photo. I thought it was about one of the prettiest things I'd seen, like a work of art. I can just imagine little gold fence mend necklaces.

Regarding my clothesline, if I could go back in time, I would have had an "L" shaped one put up. The east wind blowing has me running outside every little while to straighten up drying blankets.

Speaking of the east wind, we're having a wonderful morning here. Thanks to a cold front that has come aloft on this strange breeze, we're getting a break from the 107 degree temperatures that we've had for the last trillion years (two weeks). We're running around like chickens with our heads cut off to get as much done as possible before the Fahrenheit numbers go up.

I'm going to get back to washing clothes, watering the yard and killing flies, now. "This killing flies, is killing me!", y'all know that old Clint Black tune, don't 'cha?

Varmints an everyday foe

- Welcome to Hobbs! -

In the past few weeks, we've killed a couple of coyotes, a skunk and numerous yard snakes. That first coyote was so eaten up with mange and skin lesions that we were just putting it out of misery. We've had a lot of chickens and go missing, and three have been bitten by snakes. I didn't realize it was an everyday thing. I'm finally catching on, after all these years.

There's a pretty gelding on the corner of FM 611 and FM 1614 that looks like he's greeting everyone, but he's actually rubbing his stomach on a post that's sticking up. He's a handsome ambassador for Hobbs. Hi, neigh-bor!

I found a nice little database, the Texas Department of License Regulation. You can search by county for all holders of certain licenses, such as electricians, cosmetologists, and a very specific list of others. It can tell you who is in compliance and who is expired, among other things. There's a lot of information there.

New sheriff a familiar face

Allan Arnwine was appointed Fisher County Sheriff today by the county commissioners. He's well known around these parts, he was a Texas State Trooper when I was still a teen, and that was a very long time ago. I've never heard anything said against him.

I was just discussing the other day how you never see an out of shape DPS officer. Different physical standards for different policing departments, I guess. I'm not real sure about the spelling of his name, there seem to be a few variations across the media network.

KTXS TV reported that Arnwine plans to run for office in the general election next November.

Fisher County Sheriff Fillingim resigns

In describing the process of appointment and election for an interim and new sheriff, Fisher County, Texas Elections has issued a statement on Facebook that confirms the current sheriff has resigned.

FCTE indicates that the next step will be for the commissioners court to appoint an interim sheriff to serve until the general election in November. The sheriff appointment is the only item on the agenda for a commissioners court special meeting scheduled April 30.

Commissioners Court features sheriff resignation

- court agenda -

The commissioners court meeting ought to be an interesting one today. Number 8 on the agenda is sheriff resignation.

The meeting starts at 9 a.m. It might be a good day to go and meet your neighbor. Don't get used to these meetings being this exciting, though. Next week will be back to approving bills and hearing department reports.

A late eulogy

- Dad and Sue -

This week I saw another lengthy obituary. The first line said "he died peacefully at the nursing home." Those are lucky people, I thought. They could simply praise the accolades of their deceased kin and feel at ease about their passing.

I personally have not seen anyone die peacefully. I have seen two deaths, my mom and then my dad, that were agonizing, even as they were expected. The thing I have thought of to help me cope with the feelings of deep unrest that death has left with me is that I am the only one reliving those days of death over and over in my mind, those last memories lingering in me. The people that have died are no longer at that place. They're fine. They've been absorbed into whatever happens after death.

As for the lengthy obituary, how could I say in just a few paragraphs what my dad did and who he was? I'm not going to wax poetic and say we had a perfect relationship. We got on each others nerves and disagreed on a lot of topics. He is at the core of me, though, and laid the foundation of who I am.

He made me feel like Hobbs was mine and the land and places as far as I could see belonged to me and my family. He told stories that brought the past to life, letting me know my grandpa who died before I was born. He showed me Rough Creek, carried me around in the tractor, let me drive the pickup when I was three, and taught me to ride horses. He took me to Panther football games, encouraged me to sing in the Hobbs talent show, and took me to visit his friends, some were old timers with names that no one knows anymore. He served on the Hobbs School board, helped build on to the Cross Roads Church, planted cotton and cut grain all over the county.  He made me think I was special and our family was unique.

He made life seem like the best television show ever, with crazy characters and plotlines with deep background.

Anyway, I loved him and I miss him. I keep thinking of things I want to ask him and I'm dismayed when I realize I can't. I also miss those conversations, with him and my mom, where they knew all the background. No one else knew me like they did.

Dad had hand-written his will, and this was how he finished it: I told you to put "I'll be back next year!" on my gravestone, but you better not, because I don't think I will be. Be happy!

In honor of Mitchell "Mickey" Dewayne Templeton, January 4, 1940-April 4, 2017.

Catching up

- Hit and Miss -

The rig that was stationed up the road has come and gone, and there have been a couple of reports that it was a dry hole. There is pipe in the ground and there's a head, as shown in the photo.

Watch out for the rattlesnakes, of course. We killed a "baby" rattler in our shop last week. A resident in Loraine thought he saw a dead baby snake on the ground, but when he went to pick it up, it bit him once between the fingers and once on the back of his hand. After racking up a six figure hospital bill, he is fine. There is just a bruised spot on the back of his hand.

The annual Rotan Whitley May Auction is this coming Saturday, starting around 9 a.m. If you've ever been to the Loraine sale, you've seen they take everything under the sun. It's easy, just take your dog pens, lawn mowers, plows, etc. out to the rodeo grounds where they'll give you a number and mark your items with it. After the auction, they'll send you a check, which comes very quickly in the mail. There's a lot of socializing goes on, too, and there's usually a concession stand of some sort. Hopefully burgers will be for sale.

A tiny heartbreak

- Spiny Blooms -

In the business of raising chickens, there are a lot of cute, fuzzy chicks hatched, but many more die than live. Some fail to thrive, some drown, get stomped, get eaten or pecked by another hen, or accidentally get hit by their own mother when she flails around trying to protect her babies. There are many ways for a chick to die. Dead chicks are no big deal, usually.

Right now we have a few survivors: Bim and Bam, the Rosemary Hen's large chicks that have been adopted by Rosie 2, the other hen who was setting under the rosemary bush; Bin One Hen's little one; and the little Asil Hen's five tiny chicks. There was one other, the Shop Hen, who had a little brown chick.

The little brown chick got its leg broken a couple of weeks ago, and I never thought it would make it. If there's a defect or wound, I've learned to give up hope quickly.

That little chick got stronger, though, and had finally just about completely healed by last Friday. It was a joy to see it running after its mother as she pecked and clucked and scratched up tidbits for the little thing.

The next morning, though, the little chick was nowhere to be found. Something had gotten it during the night while it roosted in the shop with its mother.

I was about to get into my truck to go to work when Charles, the chicken expert of this place, said, "Look, she's sad about her chick."

I looked over and saw the mama hen sitting on top of the big gate, her back to us and her head hanging low. I don't think I've seen many sadder sights. It tore my heart in two.

I didn't say anything, just stared at the chicken while I was thinking my thoughts, then Charles said it was time to get on to work, so I got in my vehicle and drove off.

I told myself it was silly to cry for a chicken. I told myself babies die all the time and I think nothing of it. I reminded myself of people who had died lately that I had not wept over. Then I cried over that sad mama chicken and her little brown chick.

Sometimes, I can't explain or justify feelings, and, sometimes, I fall in love with chickens.

Chickens test boundaries

- Super Secret Nest -

Someone who hasn't lived in the country might think that having livestock would be straight up work, what with all the feeding, watering, doctoring and housing, but there's always some little scuffle or drama going on with the animals that lends to some entertainment.

Just the other night there was a bellowing of the bulls, where they may take turns seeing who can be louder, or they may carry on in unison. Actually, I think the bull calls might be like the boom box scene in High Fidelity, or they're just singing to the lovely ladies in the pasture. The bovine ladies.

The hens have started laying, so ardently that I wouldn't be surprised to see an egg on top of the clothesline. Every time an egg is laid, the hen laying cackles and calls, then all the chickens on the yard call back, as though to congratulate a new chick being born to the world.

The hens are all running around trying to find a nest that won't be found by the other chickens. Places like in the rosemary bush, under the freezer, behind the electric saws and drills, or on a bench in the shop (see accompanying photo).

When one hen figures out where another is laying, she will go on the nest, break the eggs, and lay her own eggs there. Then the other hen will come back to the nest, thinking those eggs are hers, and sit on them, doing all the work of setting on and raising the offspring. Pretty clever and sneaky for a little ol' chicken.

I have one black stag (immature rooster) who has figured out how to come in the dog door. That's very exciting, to come in the house and find a large, black bird eating the food out of the cat's bowl.

It's like Easter every day around here, trying to find where all the eggs have been hidden by the hens. Sometimes I don't find them all, and sometimes the hens don't remember where they're at, either. There is no pleasure in coming across a nest full of rotten eggs, although they do explode upon impact if thrown, which has a sense satisfaction. Though it takes a bit of bravery, or foolishness, to pick them up in the first place.

We're all here together

- Les Templeton -

I was visiting Dad in the hospital last year, after he had a stroke, when he piped up and said, "My dad came to see me the other day."

I said, "Oh, yeah? How did he look?" I was a little worried at what Grandpa's appearance might have been, since he had been dead for over fifty years.

"He looked alright," Dad said. "Fat, wearing khaki."

I said, "Well, that's good."

Going slowly into the new year

- Hay, how's it going? -

You know, it seems like everything has slowed to a grinding halt in the last month. I can't get transactions with business or personal accounts to get a move on. Some blame could be put on bureaucracies that refuse to use modern technology to exchange documents, but even the usually super-efficient on-line actions are slow to get through the system. It all needs a new year laxative, if you ask me. Let's get going!

I'm not real clear on what the outside world considers fake news, but a few local articles have me scratching my head and thinking this is pretty close to it.

One was in the monthly electric magazine. It was about a local movie theater and how much work and renovation was being done. I swear, I haven't seen any action around that building in two years, not since prisoners were used to clean it out and fill up a large construction dumpster with debris. The Hogg Maulies even had to do some fancy editing to mock up the marquee, it's in such bad shape. They used the front of the theater on their recent album.

Then, a local paper dedicated nearly the entire top of the fold to the grand opening of a music museum. I thought it sounded pretty exciting, so I headed on over there on the Saturday afternoon cited in the article. When I got there, the doors were locked, a gate pulled across them on the inside. There was a sign laying on the ground by the doors, piled over with leaves. I looked inside and cafeteria tables had been set up and some items laid on them here and there and underneath. It looked very dinky and lame. Not worth using half the front page of the paper to publicize.

If you picked up on the clues of my last two posts, then you know that drilling is beginning out here. There is already a rig set up just to the east, and can be seen from my back yard at night. Another is about to be within a mile of my house. A few of us are a little concerned about noise and traffic. Having my own well would definitely alleviate my complaining.

Bull has supplied us with the entertaining photo used today. He really loves hamming it up on the game cameras, when he's not using them to scratch his back. I have a lot of photos of cow backs.

Prepping...

- Rig to come -