It’s dry and there’s no denying it.

Bankers out here are graying at the temples and the elevator manager can’t quite get it all to pencil. Discs are parked, hooked to fueled-up tractors, lying in wait of lightning. Cigarettes. Flat trailer tires sparking. Fools.

Guys are talking like they’ll have to sell their cows if it doesn’t do something by the end of the month. There’s no grass and even though they’ve only fed a few bales, there won’t be any more.

Sure, the wheat is drilled but it’s storing just as well in the ground as it would have in the bin. I toss my little bucket of water on the poles just to try and keep the hot wire grounded. Read more…