Rain, Hair, and Undressed Beds

(or Life in Rainy Rural America)

The weekend was drismal. We must have gotten over an inch of rain on Sunday alone—and several inches of mud. When I fed dogs yesterday and this morning, I thought my shoes would get sucked off.

At least I could feed horses under the run-in shed. But yesterday both mares were water-logged. The only thing worse than a soggy horse is a shedding horse. My two mares are shedding handfuls of hair at a time.

Because I have to wait for Cupcake to finish her “soup,” I groom Melody to give her something to do so she doesn’t hand over the gate and intimidate Cupcake. I run the shedding blade over her and watch her hair cascade to the ground. Birds will use the hair for a soft nest-lining. Sometimes I go into the stall (while Melody glares at us) and scrape hair off Cupcake. Cupcake has LOTS of hair. I’ve already clipped her head, her armpits (or whatever they’re called), and a strip down her neck so she won’t get too sweaty. I clipped off enough hair two weeks ago to knit a pony, and she still has plenty more.

For the last couple of days, I’ve returned to the house wet, muddy, and covered with hair. (Note to urban readers: this is the norm in rural America.) I then shower, have another cup of coffee and read The Roanoke Times—such as it is (or, more likely, isn’t). The RT contains very little in the way of actual news—and much of that is poorly written. (Do journalism classes now encourage students to use as many prepositional phrases as possible? as many passive verbs as they can?)

Anyhow, the Sunday Roanoke Times ran a full-page reprint of a Better Homes & Gardens article, “Sleeping beauties: Don't just make your bed — dress it.”

Notice the empty space at the bottom.
Apparently when the RT runs out of words, they just leave space.

Here's a closer look. (Note all the bleed-through from the other side of the page.)

A copy of the article is here (albeit without the numerous large photos the RT used to fill the page, the empty space, and the bleed-through). Apparently other content-hungry papers reprinted it, too.

I thought the article was a hoot, even though it wasn’t supposed to be. Who has time to “dress” a bed? I do well to get mine made up before I go out to feed hungry critters. Plus my bed is usually occupied by at least one cat—Foxy, Camilla, Dylan, and Eddie-puss have sort of a time-share arrangement regarding the bed.

Foxy insists upon returning to bed after she's made her morning rounds.
I can't make up the bed until she finishes her morning nap.

Some of the article’s suggestions just aren’t practical for a rural lifestyle:

Hideaway bed: A bed skirt isn't just for looks - it's a perfect solution for keeping underbed storage out of sight. Plastic bins will easily slide under the bed.

And cats will push them out again. Under my bed is the perfect storage for boxes of books and piles of magazines. The cats periodically reshuffle them. Also a border collie sometimes sleeps there. Cats also like to hang by their claws from the bed ruffle. I assume that’s some kind of cat exercise because they periodically kick it, too. When the carpet cleaner comes, the bed ruffle provides a hiding place. At least the cats think they’re hiding. Anyhow, my bed ruffle is decorated with paw-prints and cat hair.

The grand finale: Drape a coordinating throw over the bed's foot for a final flourish.

And a cat will promptly roll up in the throw. Another cat will jump onto the rolled-up cat. Or, worse, a cat will hack up a hairball on it.

Time and again: Choose an easy-to-work-with neutral for the parts of the bed that you won't change frequently, such as the headboard and bed skirt.

It’s even better is you select colors that match whatever critters sleep on your bed. Or whatever they hack up. Do real people actually have fabric headboards? In my house, a farbric-covered headboard would make a great scratching post.

Note that I do not have a fabric headboard.
I do have a washable comforter and shams, though.

Camilla rearranges pillows on the made-up bed.

Tucked in: Give your bed a tailored look by tucking in the quilt only along the foot of the bed.

Obviously the author has never had an ingrown toenail or leg cramps. Where do you put your feet if the quilt is tucked in? And how does a cat hiding under the covers get out easily?

Old style: Look to vintage linens as another source of less-expensive fabric (they're also low-maintenance - they've likely been washed many times and can stand up to more).

Uh, most of my linens qualify as “vintage.” Even the pilled-up places on the sheets are old enough to be “vintage.” When my linens become more “vintage” than I can stand, they become shop rags or animal bedding. (Truth be told, most of my possessions are "vintage.")

Coincidentally, I just bought a "vintage" quilt last Friday at my favorite boutique (aka Goodwill). It's not very old, though, and I'll use it to "dress" the sofa, not the bed.

This twin-size quilt cost $6.99. I hope I didn't pay to0 much.

Now, if y’all will excuse me, I need to finish my coffee, put on my "vintage" barn shoes, and slog through the mud to shovel some “vintage” manure out of Cupcake’s and Melody’s bed—er, stall.

~

Powerless

Friday night, about a half hour into the McCain-Obama debate, our power went off. We couldn't figure out why. The rain had been falling for a few hours, but we'd had no thunder or lightning.

I looked outside. Because of the rain, it was really dark outside—dark the way it must have been in the old days. Except for a few lights way down the road, everything was pitch dark. John called AEP; they said he was the fourth caller (so others lost power, too) and that power would be back on about 10:30.

The power didn't come back on at 10:30. A few hours after we were left in the dark, the rain really poured down. We saw a big truck—lights flashing—slowly make its way down the road and shine a powerful spotlight at the power lines. We thought they'd find the problem soon.

They didn't. Power was off for 12 hours.

Luckily it happened at night. We didn't open the refrigerator; we didn't flush. (In rural America, we get our water via the well. The pump is electric. Flushing would soon deplete our reserve.) We could get by—for a while.

Saturday morning, the power came back on in time for me to cook breakfast. Our only problem was that a couple of half-empty cartons of sherbet melted onto the freezer shelf. Not much of a problem at all.

Compared to those in Galveston, many of whom are still without electricity and whose homes were destroyed by the hurricane, we're lucky. Compared to those on the coast of North Carolina and Virginia, we didn't have severe weather. The rain we received—over two inches— was badly needed. We didn't have really bad wind. We have our power back.

And we can flush.

~

Rain and Flower Beds

The rain has fallen on and off for the last three days! Today’s forecast calls for rain all week. We need it.

The dog kennel is a sea of mud. (Maggie loves rain and mud, but the other dogs don’t.) Everything else is lush and green. It’s wonderful.

Before the rain started on Saturday, I made flower beds. That’s right: flower beds, not flowerbeds. See:


Someone gave us this old bed frame, and it’s perfect to mark the far corner of our yard. Plus the deer won’t like having to reach between the metal parts to eat my gladiola bulbs. This flower bed is still a work in progress. I’ve transplanted lilies, iris, Job’s tears, prickly pear, and purple coneflowers from elsewhere in my yard, but I’ll add a few more plants eventually.


The aluminum headboard in the picture below was only a dollar at Goodwill. It makes a nice addition to the already established flowerbed by the driveway. However, I’ve added some lilies and other flowers that were planted elsewhere in the yard, and I’ll plant a few annuals when it stops raining.

The view looking from the road.

The original part of the bed. Notice the beautiful puddle to the right!

Flower beds give the yard a whimsical touch. After all, we shouldn’t take ourselves too seriously.

But I'm seriously glad it's raining.

~

Rainy Days & Lit Stuff

I went to the “big city” today for the Penwomen’s monthly luncheon. Normally on first Thursdays, I stay over for the Valley Writers’ meeting, but tonight I was scheduled to do a reading at a local elementary school.

On my way to Roanoke, I stopped by Marion’s mailbox to leave a folder of essays from the Lake Writers' essay contest. I’m co-chair of the contest; I log the essays in as I receive them, package them into folders, and start them on their journey to a multitude of judges. Each essay is read by several people before a half-dozen of us meet to decide which should win. Thinking I might run into Jim, the fearless leader of both Valley Writers and Lake Writers, I took a couple of other folders with me.

Anyhow, after the luncheon, I stopped briefly in Salem to see how fellow Penwoman and fellow self-pubbed writer Peggy is doing with the house she’s remodeling into a craft shop. By then rain was falling.

I figured I might catch Jim at the Roanoke County Library, and I was right. I gave him the two folders of essays (one each of middle school and high school) and chatted with him a bit before I headed south of home. Rain was really pouring at this time.

When I went through Boone’s Mill, rain was pounding so hard I could barely see. Big trucks were flying on Rt. 220 and throwing up water onto my little PT. Just south of Boone’s Mill, the weather improved. I could see where I was going. Then I came upon what was left of an accident.

Near Wirtz, a half-dozen ambulances had their lights flashing, as did several cop-cars. Both northbound lanes were at a standstill; the remnants of a car still blocked them; northbound traffic was backed up for a mile. The southbound lane crept. I couldn’t tell from the crowd how many vehicles had originally been involved, but it must have been a messy accident. If I hadn’t stopped to give Jim the essays, I’d have been in the midst of it. Saved by the essays!

When arrived home shortly before four, the rain had tapered off. I left for my reading at five: good travel weather.

I had a wonderful time reading to elementary students, their parents, and grandparents as part of the “Read Across America” program. When I left the school about seven, rain was pouring again. I had 14 miles to travel on Route 40. Besides heavy rain, fog obscurred my vision, so I had to drive slowly at times.

If I hadn’t been doing a presentation at the school, I’d have stayed in Roanoke for the Valley Writers’ meeting. I’d have been on I-581, 220, and 40 much later, when the fog would have been much worse and more big trucks would have been on the roads. My odds of being in an accident would have been much greater. Saved by reading!

Saved twice in one day by writing and reading.