For the birds...

That's what this weather is: for the birds, as my dad would have said. Today seems to be the hottest day yet. I told J that we may want to reconsider our walking schedule.... maybe walking in the early morning would be better than walking after dinner. The sun wouldn't be so hot, the temperature wouldn't be so high, and maybe we'd even have more energy at the beginning of the day rather than after dinner. I was never one to get out of bed and start exercising, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Two of the three baby barn swallows in the nest above the kitchen windows have spread their baby-birdie wings and are exploring the porch and the yard. There is just one baby bird left in that nest, and the mama bird has been doing her best to get that last little one out of the nest and into the air. She will perch on the window ledge, singing and chattering to that baby of hers, and there he will sit, just watching her, waiting for her to feed him. Apparently, he is just not ready to leave the safety of the nest. Gatsby has been inside during the day, so he can't use that cat as his reason for staying in the nest.

It is amazing to me, how the birds communicate with one another. Different chirps and chatters for different things. When the baby birds are hungry, their chirps are loud and shrill. When they're just 'talking' to one another, the little chirps are soft and sweet. The cutest sounds of all are at night when they're settling back down into the nest and getting ready for sleep.... so soft, nearly sad-sounding little coo-ing as their busy little bird-day comes to an end. And no matter how many hours the birds spend flying around the yard, they always come back to their own little nest before it gets dark.

The birds. That's about what the days are composed of lately-- cleaning and cooking, reading and bird-watching. With the high temperatures, you can't really do much outside. My husband has been working in the barn and for the life of me, I don't know how he stays out there. I was outside checking on the hens a little while ago and I swear you can feel your skin broiling and simmering as you walk in the sun. Scarlett spent the morning in her nesting box, but she came out after lunch-time and dug a little oval-shaped hole in the dirt under the bushes for her red-feathered self. The dirt under the surface must be cooler than the dirt that the sun shines on.... all the hens have their favorite spots where they scratch out an afternoon resting place.

Twenty-three acres here, and this summer we have spent most of the time inside the house because it's been too blasted hot outside to do much of anything on these acres. I can't even remember the last time we had breakfast or lunch out on the porch... it's been too hot for that as well.

One of my NY cousins who came to visit us last year told me that she was thinking that Texas would be a great place to live. She's been watching our record-breaking drought and heat for the past few months, and A says she has changed her mind.

Oh well. It is what it is. The weather, the lack of rain, the property. And did I mention that the baby goats in the field across the road have been crying for the past couple of days? That can mean only one thing-- their mothers have been sold and carted away in a trailer. Another reason to stay inside the house..... with the air-conditioning on, I can't hear the baby goats.

Country life. City wife.