Sunday, June 07, 2015

Bright and sunny. Hot, even at eight in the morning. Calves liked their range cubes at six thirty. Renter used to feed them before departing for his day job, about that time.

I was going to take a break from the village downtown this morning, but, hey, the news is on every station there’s no point talking about that until the first of the year – unless the class says something really stupid.

Five thousand rubber ducks float down the Arkansas River as a part of a fundraiser for the Honor Flight program on the final day of the Wichita River Festival.

Read more here:

That’ll get us started. Five thousand rubber duckies floating down the Arkansas River. I’d put up the picture the Eagle Beacon published, but they get un-happy over such things. Go see, they’re bright.


So. We’re back in the village. This building was an original fire house – back in the day. It was taken over by the village as a ? , well, as a maintainenance shed, then a water point for whom ever needed bulk water, and a great many outside the village do.

The area about is part of the Flint Hills of Kansas and bedrock isn’t far down. That means that the limestone drains ground water fairly quickly and ranchers need bulk water for the stock. We have two such bulk water points: this one and another a mile and a half away near the highway, west.

The pressure on the village water system has eased somewhat with the State program  of rural water and loans and grants for building surface collection dams. But we maintain the water points for those not so equipped. There’s a tiny slot in the wall for quarters. Put in a quarter and get back some water. Keep doing that long enough and your seven hundred fifty gallon container will fill up.

I’ve never seen a full trailer from the west fill up. Their trucks won’t pull the weight and the tires on the trailers won’t bear up on the sharp gravel roads they have to travel going home.

For years, when I was working for the city those quarters came into the building through that slot, tripping the pumps, and then falling on an old desk where they’d bounce around and I’d have to sweep up the floor a couple of times a week.

I was never sure, even after placing a box to catch those quarter and having it go missing (the money left on the desk), whether the quarters on the floor were meant for me to sweep the office area once a week or no one really cared whether we got them all.

I do know the procedure tickled me and I didn’t mind dumping a couple of dust pans of quarters back on the desk.


From the reaches,

Ten Whiskey

About tenwhiskey

User tenwhiskey is also the author of this blog. He currently lives in small town Kansas in a semi-retired condition. His kids are married and gone (thank you). An empty nester. Divorced. Very happy with life as it is. Ten Mile maintains a personal blog here, writing of events as they appear to him; commentary, and opinions abound. He deviates into fiction as the mood strikes and creates flash fiction stories and short stories. He will not warn the reader when he drifts from fact to fiction. He feels adults are, generally, smart enough to figure out which is which. He does, however, attempt to make his fiction sound as true to life as possible. You have been warned. He, as time permits, writes and occasionally sells writing. More often than not he gives it away to various non-paying publishers of Ether Magazines, forums or for entertainment on a wall for in need of a hand friends. He likes candy, pies and a certain amount of strife. In the matter of strife - in his yourth on the farm, he became embroiled in a slinging fight. The fight involved lath as a launcher, fresh cow patties as ammo and it was a six way free for all. A little mud only adds (Umm?) a certain taste to life.
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