Crop Spraying

The Goblin Child and I went for a ride today. As nice as it was sometimes it seems like more work than it’s worth. Coyote hadn’t been ridden for a very long time so I thought it best to mess with the saddle. We rode south along the pivot that is part corn and part wheat, this is important to remember for later. Along the fence we went to the other end of the field and back enjoying the beautiful day.

Back in the yard we noticed a huge bull snake crossing the road and stopped to admire him. Colored like rattle snakes they pretend to be one when threatened but are actually completely harmless, beneficial really, something all those silly people who kill them just because they are a big snake need to remember. The gigantic (maybe three foot long?) snake slithered along and strangely enough came to a garter snake that happened to be crossing the same road and slithered right over it.

As we watched in fascination the sound of an airplane reached our ears. The Goblin Child loves airplanes. They fly very low over our heads more often then seems normal. We wave to the and say “Hi!” This one flew in low and looked like it was getting lower. And lower. I really was starting to get concerned. It buzzed the fence we had just been riding down and sprayed a grey cloud of chemical onto the wheat then left.

The wind was blowing out of that direction and I could see the cloud drifting closer. Tying Coyote to the bumper of the pick up we left him to fend for himself as we rushed inside hoping to get The Goblin Child out of the worst of it. It was already upon us so the attempt was futile, I am sure, hope, it isn’t as bad as I was envisioning.

After putting the child down for her nap and setting Coyote free I sat down to rest for a bit when I heard again the roar of plane engines. I looked out the front door in time to see the plane swoop over the house. I am terrified of airplanes. Of planes crashing onto my head or into the house as I sit inside unsuspecting. I saw La Bamba as a child I remember the kid smashed on the play ground. Not to mention all the times it actually happens. I couldn’t stay in the relative safety from chemicals of the house I had to be able to see if it was going to hit me. So I stayed outside.

I did have a few qualms about leaving the poor innocent child sleeping in the house I was to scared to stay inside of but decided she shouldn’t have to miss her nap because I am neurotic.

I decided that this of all times would be a good time to trim OD’s feet, don’t know why then,  but he was good for it. Trimming came to a halt every round as he buzzed over our heads barely clearing the trees in the yard. It was horrifying, it was fascinating. I no longer cared about the real or imagined threat of noxious fumes I just wanted to watch. I held my breath as my heart palpitated every time I thought for sure he must hit the power lines this time. He dove to within feet of the field heading straight for the lines then pulled up hard to miss them by what seemed to be mere feet. He was insane, he was an artist, most amazingly he is still alive, I don’t know how.