Eleven and a quarter inches of rain fell At The Farm in less than three days. The valley was roaring. I did not get pictures. I haven't checked for water damage away from the house. I do know where the grass was gone, the top soil is too. We were lucky. The water falls almost as quickly as it rises.
That water is finding it's way to White River and on down the line to the Mississippi. It was some serious rain. Places not far from us had road closings and I'm sure when the water goes down there will be damage. The good news I've heard of no one in our immediate area hurt by this monster rain.
Today we drove to the Guion Arkansas where Hubby grew up and where we lived for a while as a young married couple. The waters are receding but are a long way from be normal.
My heart goes out to those down steam as the tributaries add to the volume along the way.
while making our rounds, we noticed the spring holding pond level had dropped. A varmint had made his own path way. The water was running under our over flow pipe instead of through it.
This job called for the Kubota King. He did some digging in the levee and removed the culvert.
He dammed the exit to allow the water to fill to its maximum capacity. We (I supervised) worked on moving rocks while the pond filled.
These large rocks will turn most rain water away from the spring holding pond.
Time to break the dam
The water leaves swiftly flushing the holding pond.
The water follows the steam bed to the big spring pond.
The rocks under the ones to the right are ones my grandfather laid around an old oak barrel over the spring outlet. Back then the water was carried by hand to the house. The ones you see were added by Dad when the house was plumbed for water. Now a submersible pump carries more than enough water to two houses with plenty left for the creek. Although there are several bubbling springs within this area the main spring is inside the rock barrel.
After the pond flushed itself Hubby did every thing in reverse. Culvert installed at correct level to maintain the level we perfer. Dirt placed and packed on culvert while keeping it level to drain. Less than two hours the pond filled to the lip of the pipe and flows merrily on its way.
Once again crystal clear water at the correct level for the pump. Gotta love tractors. This used to be done by hand! A spring that pumps hundreds of gallons a minute is simply a natural above ground well with sweet water from deep within Mother Earth.
The challenge today was a Play It Again, Toads at Imaginary Garden With Real Toads. This Haiku popped when I saw the picture from the prompt page so I'm trying to fit it into challenge three. That's a stretch but here's my mind's path, broken dancer, break dancing, fits with music...so Challenge Three. My twisted humor may be showing. Thanks for the fun.
who grew the food for your traditional Christmas feasts. The farmers who mind their crops and livestock with the same love we have raising a child or even crocheting, sewing a quilt, or creating another work of art.
Farming is not an easy job. You deal with the weather and the pests trying not to use pesticides, making your animals comfortable so maybe you can make a profit if the market is good. It's certainly not a job for the faint of heart or the lazy ones.
There are equipment failures, blights, droughts, and no matter how hard you try there is loss. As a farmer I take the loss personally. What could I have done to save that calf? How could I have improved the peach crop this year? And on and on. It's not just a job, it's a life style. Twenty-four/seven to feed the world is all it takes.
Your milk, your meat, your vegetables, your cheese, you fruit, cooking oil, spices and even your peanut butter (just to mention a few things) comes from farmers...not the grocery store. That is the final stop and the grocers make good profit.
I think this year as we plan our magnificent feast we should take a moment to thank God we have food to eat (many do not) and thank the farmers, the cattlemen, the ranchers who keep supplying no matter how hard the work is.
.Merry Christmas!!! from the crazy lady At The Farm