It hasn’t rained in over two weeks; the fields and, more importantly, the cotton have thoroughly dried out again, which is why my eyes are tired, blurry and burning slightly, and I have an intermittent, maddening and hacking cough. The big green John Deere’s and Cases are out in the fields again industriously stripping cotton, and throwing all that Roundup and Quick Pick laced dirt and plant particles up into the air. I’m staying as indoors and out of it as I can, but it’s hard to escape with our practically constant wind. Since we have cotton fields 360° around us, we get it no matter which way the wind blows. And they’ve started ginning it, too, which puts cotton fibers and more chemical-laced gin trash in the air.
This morning, I tried reading the short stories of Truman Capote (he of Breakfast at Tiffany’s fame). He’s supposed to be such a good wordsmith, and I suppose he is, but I find his subject matter dog-eared, slightly sordid, Tennesee Williams-ish for all the wrong reasons, and generally pretty depressing, all of which gets in the way of my appreciating his wordsmithery. So much for litrachure.
My mom got her new TV, a 50-inch flat screen, delivered, set up and hooked up in her bedroom. It replaces a 19-inch TV she’s had for 20+ years, which was so small, you practically had to have binoculars to see it from the bed. Now when she falls asleep watching TV, she won’t have to get up and go to bed. She’ll already be in bed. Very time and labor saving.
Daylight Savings Time ended last night, and consequently, I had to go around and reset every cotton-picking clock* in the house back an hour. I do wish the powers that be (such as they are) would make up their (alleged) minds once and for all about whether we get to keep that one stupid hour or not. I wasted at least half of it fiddling with the durn clocks!
*except the "atomic clock" my dad gave me years and years ago. All you have to do is push the magic button, and the clock telepathically gets the correct time from the Atomic Clock in Boulder. Talk about a gift that keeps on giving. Money very well spent there. (and my plonging clock that sits on the mantle. I don't like fiddling with the mechanism any).
2 thoughts on “Of Cotton Gins and Litrachure”
Your description of the cotton harvest reminds me of the soybean harvest in Kansas last year. Dusty? Oh, my. It was amazing. There was so much dust in the air it looked like smoke from a forest fire. It’s good that they’ve had the weather for it, though. I heard today there’s quite a front coming next week. In fact, I heard snow mentioned, but I think it was supposed to be over in the NE part of the state — Dallas and such. We’ll see.
I’ve got the grandmother clock ticking along again, and reset the others in about 2 minutes. Since the computer, phone, and ipad reset themselves, I only had the microwave and the camera. I’ll get to the car eventually, but I never set the coffee pot. That’s it! Fini!
We did have an experimental period in the UK when we stopped changing the clocks twice a year and then we started the silly business all over again. None of the reasons given for doing it are convincing. Why is it worse, for example, that children should go to school in the dark than than they they should go home in the dark? If farmers want to get up an hour later in winter, fine, there’s nothing stopping them from doing it. They don’t need to disrupt my life as well. Why don’t we just shift the clocks 30 minutes in between the two times and leave them there? 30 minutes either way can’t make a difference.
All our clocks shift automatically, the computers’ clocks, the clocks on our phones, my alarm clock and the radio-controlled clock on the wall. No button push required. I do have one non-radio clock which is useful in case I lose my nerve and wonder whether the others really have switched!