We’ve landed right in the middle of a very large wheat field. It looks a lot like the Midwest.
There was a pile of gravel for a pad on Friday morning, but by afternoon, it was needed for the drill site.
Saturday, I drove the Mirada into the field and put down the leveling jacks.
I’m writing this in the wee hours of Tuesday morning and I think we’re beginning to sprout.
We’re certainly lilting. We’ll worry about that tomorrow, Rhett…
I’m still surprised each time I look out the window. It’s really quite pretty, all those amber waves of grain. At least I hope they’re waves of grain.
I was wondering if rattlesnakes are partial to wheat fields, which is exactly what I Googled. It’s amazing what you can find on-line!
It seems the answer to that is yes, indeed they are. Particularly western massasauga rattlesnakes. They especially like wheat fields.
JoJo, our Total Safety guy is very committed to the safety of the entire group. Today he crawled under The Company Man’s trailer to catch a snake they thought might be a small rattler.
The species remains unclear.
I did find out that back in 1910, a gentleman named Strecker reported killing between 25-30 rattlesnakes in his Texas wheat field. That was quite a while ago, but history does often repeat itself.
I’ve read that the western massasauga rattlesnakes are primarily nocturnal. Which would be more comforting if I didn’t work the gate in the middle of the night in a large expanse of wheat. I’m hoping that they at least take naps.
There are western massasauga rattlesnakes in the wheat fields in Kansas, too. Which brings me back to yesterday’s post.
I’ve never been particularly afraid of snakes, although I now see the value in maintaining a healthy respect for them and keeping a bit of distance. I may have been a snake handler when I was young, but I was very afraid of the Wicked Witch of the West and I only saw her on TV (and sometimes looking in the windows).
The Wicked Witch of the West, Margaret Hamilton, was a former kindergarten teacher. What fodder for counseling! All you’d have to say was, When I act out, it’s because the Wicked Witch of the West was my teacher.
This is a short clip of Margaret, as Miss Gulch: added primarily for the extra creepy soundtrack.
Can you imagine the lessons you would learn on the days The Wicked Witch of the West had recess duty? You’d have to constantly be on the lookout for balls of fire hurling towards you. And you’d hear things like:
Ring around the rosie, a pocket full of spears!
Ah! You’ll believe in more than that before I’m finished with you.
I’ll get you, my pretty, and your little dog, too!
You cursed brat! Look what you’ve done!
How about a little fire, Scarecrow?
Well, my little pretty, I can cause accidents, too!
And now, my beauties, something with poison in it, I think. With poison in it, but attractive to the eye, and soothing to the smell.
Poppies… Poppies. Poppies will put them to sleep. Sleeeeep. Now they’ll sleeeeep!
Heh heh heh heh heh heh!
Indeed, a good therapist could delve for years into the psychological damage of being exposed to flying monkeys and apple throwing trees.
This is an interesting clip, narrated by Angela Lansbury, explaining how a kindergarten teacher from Ohio, became forever famous as the witch with the green skin.
I’m melting! melting! Oh, what a world! What a world! Who would have thought a good little girl like you could destroy my beautiful wickedness? Oooooh, look out! I’m going! Oooooh! Ooooooh!
Before I turn in those ruby slippers for a practical pair of snake resistant boots, I think I’ll click 3 times and see where they take me tomorrow. Possibly Westminster Abbey…