The Implications of an Early Spring


It appears that winter on the plains is over. The forecast for the rest of this week is high 40s/low 50s. And next week the rains begin. Even if we were to get a storm it would likely be a dump of heavy wet snow that would melt again in a few days. Our days of frigid temperatures and steady snow are over. Now if it would just dry out enough to clean up the dog shit in the yard.

My wife has compiled a list of the vegetables she wants planted this spring, which means a ridiculous amount of work for me getting a fair amount of ground dug up and broken up. I will be planting those monster sunflowers again and we’ll see if the four o’clocks come back on the east flower bed.

I’ve got some work to do on the cars. We’ll be able to spend more time driving the Mercury Land Yacht, which gets somewhat better gas mileage than the Family Truckster. Both need oil changes, tires checked, etc. I’ll vacuum them both out this weekend. Pippin’s coarse hair is all over their interiors which reminds me that he needs some kind of homespun haircut. If it turns out to be as ugly as I expect it to be, I’ll post photos.

As always I welcome the change of seasons. This wasn’t a particularly long winter but it certainly was a brutal one.My wife has been very vocal about wishing for spring. So have the cats.

The nasty winter certainly didn’t help stem the collapse of the boom economy here. Restaurants in Williston and Tioga have closed up, the man camps have long been emptied, traffic is down, and several houses in town are for sale. Oil is a commodity and there’s a lot of it right now. We need the price to stabilize at $60 a barrel for several months before exploration kicks into gear again. Barring an adventure or mishap in the Middle East or god forbid, Russia, that’s not going to happen anytime soon. So I can still drive to the farm without the possibility of getting rammed off the road by meth-addled truckers.

Time to put on my shoes, go outside, and survey the backyard. And smell the change in the air.

About jeroljohnson

I guess I'm the crying on the inside kind of clown
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