Walkin' In a Winter Wonderfand

Sleigh bells ring, are you listening?

In the lane, snow is glistening ...

Walking in a winter wonderland.

Now wait just a minute! Shouldn't we be humming "Autumn Leaves" right about now?

 

The calendar says October, but it felt more like December for a little while on Sunday night and Monday morning.

The weird weather continues. We had another 0.90" of rain during the day on Sunday. Then huge, wet snowflakes began tumbling down Sunday evening (October 14).

After another glum day, we were glad to see the sun come up on Monday morning. The Sunday rainfall brought our total to almost 13 inches of rain in just a little more than a week.

The snow didn't stick around for long. But it made for unusual photos since most of the leaves are still on the trees.

 

While I couldn't find records for Stafford County, the National Weather Service said Wichita's earliest measurable snowfall until this fall was 1888. On average, Wichita can expect its first measurable snowfall around December 2, with that chance increasing to 90 percent by January 1. Last year, we didn't get any snow at all here on the Stafford/Reno County line.

Jill's in-laws had given us homegrown pumpkins and gourds when we were in Manhattan for the K-State/Oklahoma State game.

Our Sunday night snowfall put a little "frost on the pumpkin" and seemed to confuse Oreo the cat.

The vine on our house had more icicles than it had fall-colored leaves.

The temperature is supposed to rebound this week. By week's end, we may push 70 degrees. I just hope it doesn't include any more rain. We are still drying out from the last round, and it's going to take awhile.

With milo to cut and more wheat to plant (or re-plant), we're not ready to "swing" totally into winter.

Want Ads: Pontoon Needed

Farm Want Ads: Pontoons for car.

Fairyland

Fairy Want Ads: A dry basement
Farm Wife Ads: A dry basement and a dry utility room.

Right now, my only viable mode of transportation to the north is the 4-wheel-drive pickup. There's too much water in the road for my low-to-the-ground car.

As far as the basement goes, both Randy's Fairyland for the girls (and himself) and my basement have water in them. The Tupperware bowl that catches rain in our leaky utility room is now dry, but it was emptied multiple times during the deluge of 9.7 to 11 inches of rain we received. (Our employee says we got 12 inches at his house. I believe it after seeing all the water.)

As I said in my post earlier this week, Peace Creek was out of its banks north of our farm headquarters. However, we couldn't get there without going around the section. Rushing water has washed out part of the road.

Randy took the top photo below on Wednesday morning. 

 

 By Wednesday afternoon at 5:30, the water had receded some. 

Water had been over the road Wednesday morning, but, south of the bridge, only the ruts were left behind yesterday afternoon.

 Peace Creek was still up along the Zenith Road, too, and water still flowed over the road.

Sea gulls have been abundant around here. Who came blame them? We have "sea to shining sea" right in the middle of the Plains.

Jill's father-in-law Alan (and our friend) sent this after we sent them a photo of our roads:

Alan, who works for Iowa Extension, said Iowa farmers were thinking this might be a viable way to harvest fall crops still in the field.

I wonder if he has a pontoon for cars.

Rainy Days and Mondays (and Tuesdays and ...)

I've always been a big fan of The Carpenters. And they were never more accurate when it came to the lyrics of one of their popular songs, "Rainy days and Mondays always get me down."

Let's expand that thought: Rainy days and Mondays (and Tuesdays and Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays) are currently getting me down. 

I feel a little guilty complaining about the rain. My Australian farmer blog friend, Lynda, is in the midst of a drought. It wasn't all that long ago that I was writing about being in a drought designation here. (We were officially out of the drought in August when we got 6 inches of unexpected rain during the month.)

Since last Friday, we have received between 7.80 and 9.10 inches of rain. I was going to wait to take photos until the rain quit yesterday. But it never did. And, come to think of it, all that the grayness kind of matches the mood of farmers who are worried about planting wheat and harvesting fall crops. Even my favorite perpetual optimist's mood is flagging (or drowning).

 It's been a long, long time since Peace Creek was up this far.

The photo above is looking west, where we have a pasture and lots that border Peace Creek.

It's good we don't need to get in or out of there at the moment!

This summer, I could barely see the water in the creek. Currently, that is not a problem.

Looking east from the bridge

Last week, I drove to the Peace Creek bridge on the Zenith Road to take a photo of the sunset. I had to try to get the reflection in the water.

 This is looking the same direction on Monday afternoon.

The photo below is Peace Creek looking east from the Zenith Road.

We had planted about half of our 2019 wheat crop before the rain started. We can now be classified as Quivira National Wildlife Refuge South, since ducks and geese have "parked" on mud puddles in the wheat fields. We probably will need to replant some of it, but we may not be able to get on the ground in time.

 

The Zenith Road (photo below) has water running across it in one location. It's a "major" thoroughfare, at least for us. (Yes, it's a dirt road for a portion of it, but it's still a major road for us.)

 

There's more rain in the forecast today, though it's supposed to clear up on Wednesday. However, there are more raindrops on the map on Friday and Saturday. 

With apologies to my Australian friend and anyone else experiencing drought: Rain, rain, go away! Come again another day (and not for awhile)! Or at least shift to somewhere it's needed.

Rainy days and Mondays (and Tuesdays and Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays) are getting me down.

Big Sky Country - Kansas Style!

Montana claims to be Big Sky Country.

I won't dispute their claim, but I think Kansas gave Montana a run for its money yesterday in the sky department.

When I came back from helping Randy, I noticed the sky and took a detour to the milo field to take a photo of the ripened grain against the spectacular backdrop.

Sunset over a neighbor's CRP hay

A little while later, I was still working in my basement office when Randy called to tell me the sunset was pretty. Now that's love - taking time to call me in the midst of planting wheat ahead of a storm.

Sunset over Peace Creek

He didn't spend a lot of time talking about it. He knows how quickly these things change. Sunsets don't wait for things like shutting down computers and such nonsense.

A neighbor's windmill

The cattle came to see what I was doing.

 Hey, guys! You're turned the wrong way! You're missing the light show! (And the photographer should have used the flash - ah well!)

 

This morning, before I downloaded last evening's photos, I opened my Guideposts email devotional and saw this message:

A Time to Act

Recognize that true gifts of life come 

from moments shared and beauty witnessed—

laughter with loved ones, a glorious sunrise, a rainbow after a storm.

A Time to Pray

Dear Lord, all the treasure of the world is already mine—

not to own, but to cherish and share. Thank you!

Good advice indeed!

Zenith Road, looking north

We got 1.80" of rain from those storm clouds, so our wheat planting has come to a temporary halt. I guess we won't feel guilty about going to Stafford's 29th Oktoberfest this weekend.

Airfest

Great Bend had an air show this weekend, celebrating the 75th anniversary of its Army Airfield. We were planting wheat, so we didn't make it. But I had an "air show" all my own in an alfalfa field.

Since we are planting wheat north of Stafford, I took Randy his noon meal on Monday. When I found out he'd be refilling the drill after a couple of rounds, I decided to wait so I could get photos of the process.

At first, I lamented that I hadn't brought my book. But then I decided to take a walk in a nearby alfalfa field, thinking maybe I'd find a stray Monarch butterfly left behind when its compatriots departed for warmer weather in Mexico.

I didn't find any Monarchs. But I still experienced the aerial acrobatics of hundreds of little flying machines. I've never gotten photos of the little blue butterflies before. I later found out the bright blue ones were male Melissa's blue butterflies. They are about the size of a thumbnail, so it's not easy to get close enough for a clear shot before they flit away to another perch.

I also saw a few painted ladies (though their numbers were fewer than the smaller aerial artists) ....

... clouded sulphurs ...

... and, perhaps, some cabbage whites? I'm not sure, even after spending some time looking at a Kansas butterfly and moth website.

I may not know their names. But I know they made my day.

Beautiful and graceful,

 varied and enchanting, 

small but approachable, 

butterflies lead you to the sunny side of life.  

And everyone deserves a little sunshine. 

 ~Jeffrey Glassberg

Today, I'm scrambling to get my KFRM report done before 7 so I can deliver Randy to the field and go to Zenith to fill a 100-gallon diesel tank on the pickup. I'll pick up seed wheat on the way home from getting some medicine in Hutchinson, then deliver the noon meal to Randy again. Helping Randy move from over west to a field closer to home is on the agenda sometime this afternoon, barring breakdowns and other complications.  I'll be the one "flying" from one thing to another today. I could use some wings.