Daffodils: First Sign of Spring

Daffodils: First Sign of Spring, a set on Flickr.

While less than a month away, March 20th seems only visible in the distant view of a collapsing telescope in the grimy hands of a pirate. But nothing shouts, "Spring is almost here!!!" like daffodils blooming.

Given our recent winter weather and ice storm - they are such an uplifting sight to see!

Some years back on a neighboring dirt road not too far from our own, I discovered daffodils left behind from a family farm long forgotten. The old home place no longer remains - but the annual blooming of the faithful daffodils appear year after year as if to remind us of Spring's annual return and for us to always keep hope that life cycles around to all things beautiful.

No matter how many times I make my way back to this secret spot, it never fails to surprise me. Dirt road riding is well worth the breath-taking view of thousands and thousands of daffodils.

Snowpocalypse 2014

Snowpocalypse 2014, a set on Flickr.

Despite my having to serve Crow Casserole over my disbelief of a "snow-slam" - I enjoyed the 24 plus hours of scenery and wanted to share this year's snow that arrived here at the Dirt Road Farm.

Meteors Are Falling From the Sky

February 13, 2010 - Dixie, Granny Rox & Mildred during the last snow

here at the Dirt Road Farm!

They may as well be.

Fewer things strike fear and stupidity into the hearts and neurotransmitters of Southerners than that dreaded winter forecast that screams out the "S-word."

Do I  need to spell it out for you?

S-N-O-W.

There. I said it.

It's a weather expletive in my giant book of all words bad.

All Southern children love it because the very moment the word develops into a minuscule whisper, the schools will send the kids home early and just up and close for the remainder of the week.

And as if we need one more thing for the balance of our countrymen to poke fun of us over, this time seems to be no exception.

By 4 o'clock this afternoon, all the local schools in the 6 county area had announced school closures for the next 3 days. (Parents, I shall commence praying….)

My Facebook and Twitter feeds are shrieking the "S-word" - one after another.

Dare I imagine the milk and bread isles at our little IGA?

Photo By L. A. Jenkins
This photo was taken at the Wal-Mart in Grovetown, Georgia at 7 p.m.
I. Kid. You. Not.

And if it really does snow followed by the usual community shut-down, we could easily experience a population explosion by October! (can you spell 'scandalous' ?)

Stranger things: it was 65 degrees on the front porch this morning while I drank my coffee, rocked in my rocking chair and blinked my eyes open while the sun warmed my face.

So in the next 24 hour window of time, I'm fully expected to believe that up to 4 inches of snow will arrive here at the Dirt Road Farm to greet me first thing in the morning… 

That ain't even funny.

At. all.

Y'all know I don't do mornings.

And now I just broke my "ain't rule"…what's this coming to?

Sounds like I need to be more cautious when citing the Dirt Road Snow Globe for matters of geography.

While I shudder at the thought of snowfall, it's not that I am anti-snow fun.  I watch the Winter X-Games and plan to watch the Winter Olympics.  I'm a fan of Carrot Top, er wait,  Shaun White!  If I want to see and experience snow, I am fully capable of traveling to the snow regions UP in the NORTH - the Northern territory that is.

But this is the ever-loving Deep South, People.  We simply don't. do. snow!

And besides, snow was not in Gone With the Wind.

Therefore, snow is a myth.

A diva named Scarlett said so.

HKJ

South of the Gnat Line

Copyright  © 2014

All Rights Reserved.

From the Dirt Road News Desk

With October winding down and the arrival of November at our doorstep, I thought it time to give a few updates from the Dirt Road snow globe.

What say you?

A week or so ago, I discovered we had new neighbors in the north pasture.  I have eagerly awaited the opportunity to seize a Kodak moment.

Here they are:

The white donkey is a male ("Jack") and the traditional brown donkey is a female ("Jenny"). Until I can make time to call Mr. Stanley to inquire about their official names, "Jack" & "Jenny" it will be.

They are rooming with the 30+ Black Angus cows & calves in the north pasture(s) and I couldn't be happier about it. Fingers crossed they give the coyotes (roaming four-legged pestilence of the Dirt Road mammal world) a full blown run for their money....or rather existence!

It is a Southern tradition when new neighbors move in, we rush to greet them with accolades of welcomes and shower them with foodies.  So I am working very hard to welcome them and ultimately, gain their trust by spoiling them with alfalfa cubes whenever I see them.  I think it may be working since today when they heard me talking with the sheep and eventually *saw* me, they began hee-honking with what seemed to be excitement ("....hey lady, you brought us some treats again, right?"). {insert winking}

In other news, a new ram has arrived at the Dirt Road Farm to be a suitor for the girls.  He's just visiting for a couple of months in order to help the farm set up lamb-housekeeping in 5-6 months.  He wasn't exactly thrilled when corralled for pick up and transport to the Dirt Road.  In fact, the little ram made it very clear that he did NOT like the likes of me by stomping his front foot.

Repeatedly.

And refusing to exit the vehicle.

I finally had to wrestle him out of the Goat Tote and physically place him in the pasture with his temporary harem of ewes.  It took him all of three seconds to realize he'd died and gone to ewes-gone-wild Heaven with nine new babes to romance.  I hope he enjoys his stay - quickly; he has until mid-December to get his romance on and then he will return to his home in Monticello.

Meanwhile, Buttermilk is somewhat confused and seemed to be suffering from hurt feelings earlier today - as all his gal pals have been all. about. the visiting ram.  So I took measures this afternoon to console and treat him to some - sheep treats (not sold at your local PetsMart - but there are such things that exist).

I'm already beginning to wonder (or is it worry?) about how to convince the visiting ram to voluntarily load onto the truck for his journey back home.

Somehow, I am not foreseeing voluntary in his vocabulary.  It should likely prove to be interesting....

And finally....

The cotton fields are being harvested.  

The fields I've watched grow all summer and mature into Fall - walked through and marveled over - will soon be sparse and barren - waiting for Winter's arrival.  Such is the ebb and flow of the seasons that surround the Dirt Road.

All Saints Day is upon us and shortly thereafter will be Thanksgiving, the rush of shopping, gift giving and celebrating Christmas. In 62 days, a new year will begin to unfold.

In closing this all too newsworthy update...

It's been a year.

HKJ

South of the Gnat Line

Copyright  © 2013

All Rights Reserved.

October Cotton Fields

There is nothing quite like walking knee deep through a magnificent cotton field.....this year's crop is almost shoulder high in some places (shoulder high for me anyway).  This is a field full of tee shirts and then some.

Photo: Harriette Keen Jacobs. South of the Gnat Line.  Copyright © 2013

Words can not adequately explain the majesty of the silence while standing in the midst of acres and acres of cotton awaiting its harvest. These fields that surround me here along the Dirt Road have decades and perhaps a century or more's history of cotton that has been grown - much picked and harvested by hand in the years behind us.  To recognize and reflect upon the human hands that have hand-turned the soil here is a must; it is also a must that we never forget.

Walking through October's Cotton Fields. South of the Gnat Line. Copyright © 2013

HKJ

South of the Gnat Line

Copyright  © 2013

All Rights Reserved.

It's Friday and That's All I Got

It can be a peculiar thing to be a writer.  Writers love words, use words, neeeeed words to generate a pause for thought, a soft laugh or something along those lines to pass along and convey whatever is on the writer’s radar-mindset and clearly needs to be shared with anyone willing to read along – or better yet ‘play along’.

But what happens when the words won’t come?

Where are those lettered combinations of language that effectively express the matter of the moment?

Do words have that much power? Can they vaporize out of sight or thought?

Those who know me know I am a social bug with verbal skills that could exhaust an ENtire army.  As a result, writing becomes an extension of my neeeeeeed to express myself.  So how is it that on this Friday in late June, all my words are missing?

They’ve picked themselves up and left the Dirt Road.

*POOF*

First, let’s remove the fodder words: “Hello” is a fodder word.  The phone rings and upon answering I say, “Hello”.  “Hello” doesn’t count and is exempt from the missing mass of words that have left my universe today.

More fodder words: “How are you?” “Fine, and you?” “Fine.”

I repeat: Fodder.

Then there’s the weather.  Even more fodder.  Do you really want a Dirt Road Weather Report?  I can provide you with a concise weather report that includes my all access to online satellite imagery direct from the National Weather Service (impressive – huh?).

It rained yesterday afternoon.  Today it’s hot.  It’s humid.  No, it’s MUGGY.  The sky is blue with white fluffy clouds slurring around thinking about merging this afternoon in order to rain right about the time I decide to go outside to accomplish something like cleaning boogers out of Buttermilk’s nose.  The satellite imagery shows that it’s a NO BEACH day along the panhandle of Florida and Mississippi and Alabama are under siege by a huge blue and red blob that has settled on top of them.  That very same blob should show up over here in a couple of days, unless it breaks up or the wind moves it north/northeast.  Cuba doesn't have a dry spot to stand in. Tomorrow will be a repeat of today.

There.  Fodder.

No real words – no words of passion or persuasion or thought provoking moments of wonder.  Fodder.

*POOF*

(sigh)

I repeat:   It’s Friday and that’s all I got.

HKJ

Copyright © 2013

All Rights Reserved.

Fragrance of the Spring Season...

During these late days of Spring leading up to the first days of Summer, I love sleeping with the windows open. Hearing the night sounds easily lull me to sleep.....

until....the bouquet of the resident skunk's *poot* drifted in and settled all over me at 2 a.m.

Yeah, it did.

And I've been WIDE. Awake. ever since.

Meanwhile, look who I discovered in the sheep barn this morning.....