The area I live in is commonly refered to as “green country.”  It’s not so green these days or at least it isn’t in my little parcel of it.  It’s brown country, or for you pbs painting show watchers, it’s burnt sienna country.  It’s hot and dry.  Not the usual hot and dry of normal summers mind you, it’s really hot and really dry.  It started early.  I built a snow-man one day and had to weed eat around him the next.  I’m not griping yet.  I understand that droughts are just things that happen every now and again.  I don’t want to seem suprised by it even though I am.  I’m trying to stay positive.  It’s getting tougher though.  My cows are being very negative about the situation.  They are yelling at me almost everyday now.  I tell them it’s not my fault and that I don’t control the weather.  Theyr’e hungry and in no mood for a lecture, so they continue to yell and demand relief.  The calves would probably be yelling at me too, but they spend most of the day sleeping.  They can’t stay awake for any period of time.  It’s understandable.  You drink nothing but warm milk and see how much you sleep.  The milk isn’t just normal straight from the mother warm either.  It’s being boiled inside their utters.  That’s how hot it is around here lately.  Damn Hot!

         I’ve always heard that the Pacific Northwest has the highest suicide rates.  The reason that they give is  the pre-dominantly rainy/cloudy skies they have.   It sounds reasonable at first.  Cloudy/rainy skies sound pretty good to me right now.  In fact, it would seem like paradise.  So  why on earth would people get depressed about rain.  Rain is good.  It cools stuff off.  It allows stuff to grow.  Hell it’s even a pretty good drink.  Come on people of the Pacific Northwest.  Give me a break.  How about you try being slow roasted day after day.  You can watch as the grass turn brown and the trees start to sag and look disheveled.  Yeah, watch as animals that depend on those grasses start to suffer.  How do you like those apples?  Give me a freakin’ break.  Depressed about rain.  The more I think about it the madder I get.  You’ve got it backwards people.  You should get depressed by having too much heat and sun.  Rain gives life.  The sun burns your skin.  If you don’t believe me, then I dare you to try this experiment.  Take a ten hour shower and see how you feel.  Then sit naked in the sun for ten hours, without sunblock, and see which one is the worst.  It’s no contest.  Depressed about rain.  I mean depressed about rain.  Just say it out loud a few times to see how nonsensical it really is.  Depressed…..about……..rain.  Ridiculous.

        Nonetheless and I digress and heretofore I will be refraining from complaining hence  my thoughts shall bequeath themselves a negative and intolerant hue.  This rabble I spew was but a short exhortation meant for noone really.  A temporary set back in my quest for peaceful and tolerant thoughts during this normal happening called a drought.  I take it all back and apologize to all the rain-haters.  It’s your right to hate rain.  I just needed to vent a moment.  Get it off my chest.  I’m fine now.  I saw the weather forcast a little  while ago.  The seven day forcast looked like a bingo board for genuis’s.  I can hear a Nobel Prize winner calling out the numbers to a room full of super nerds- M…..105,  T…..107, F……104……..”I have completed the bingo algorythim” will be yelled out instead of just plain old “bingo.”  You can’t expect these high-powered mental giants to yell something like “bingo” out, please.  They work themselves silly in school forgoeing the usual pleasures of youth, and I mean the good ones to, the big ones, and you expect these people to yell out something as common as “bingo.”   How dare you?  They’ve earned the right to smart-up bingo.  Who are you, some kind of bingo purist?  The more I think about it the  madder I become.  Yelling “bingo” when you’re a genius.  It’s some kind of -ist I’m sure.  You’re a geniusist.  Going around tellling genius’s they have to yell “bingo”, ludicrous.  Ok, it happened again.  I take it all back and apologize to the bingo-yeller purists out there.  It won’t happen again.  I’ll just stop typing  when I feel the negative energy taking over.  Perhaps (I’ve stopped typing)