Friday, October 07, 2016

You know that dry creek I talk about.

Sure you do.

Well, it started raining Wednesday  night. And it rained alll night. Then it rained all day Thursday.

By Thursday evening that dry creek was twelve feet deep in running water, and as dusk felll it spilled over into my yard, over the road and down the street.

The dry creek topped out at twenty=one feet above the road over the bridge.

I spent the morning repairing the north fence, at least temporarily and putzed with the south fence – throwing off some limbs.

And then . . .

Renter came over and told me his fence had bee totally destroyed and he hadn’t found all his cows.

We did a quick consolation and decided that hooking up the post hole digger would be a good thing and we went off to fix his fence.

I checked out about two  when his brothers came to help him.

My fence needs rebuilding but will hold cattle for now. When the water goes down I’ll get the fence under control.

Mean time I’ll stop talking about my dry creek. Apparently it makes it mad to be called dry.

_________

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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