Summer

Due to my lack of attention to anything on the computer, I plan to post a lot in the next few weeks.

We are roasting in North Dakota. The heat index in our neck of the woods is supposed to be in excess of 100 degrees today. I was shocked this morning to see that the sheep apparently can let themselves out of the barn. Hank and I trotted through the still dew wet grass planning to release the woolly girls early to allow them time to eat the succulent green grass before their permanent wool coats forced them to lay in the barn or under trees, presumably hoping for cooler days ahead. Instead we found the barn door had been flung open, allowing the girls to eat far earlier than I had planned. My favorite husband had released them from their night-time home before leaving for work - feeling bad for both them and me (I stayed up late, late the night before and had wished for a morning to sleep later).

During July and August I always feel the pinch of being a single income family. It seems to be a perceived pinch, but the planned purchase of a plethora of school books for our homeschooling the next year always presents a daunting figure. I begin to scheme, plot, plan and consider how this might feel when I am able to contribute to our bottom line. Add to the pending purchase my favorite husband's run to Ikea for much-needed bookcases (love them, just didn't love the deduction from the check book), the soon completion of our upstairs bathroom and all necessary supplies to accomplish the project, the purchase of a new hot water heater (the old one shorted out in a shower of sparks resembling the 4th of July), and the purchase of a new pump for the animal water and I turn into a quivering mass of nerves when balancing the check book. Never mind that in September I will breathe a sigh of relief - and then to express new concerns to the propane man in November about the prices.

Ahh, the dog days of summer.