Hays County

years into the world, on a day so hot I could practically taste burnt air, my father took my two sisters and me down to the barn. It wasn’t the most attractive place in the world, but to my eyes it was an adventure waiting to happen. Amid mountainous hay bales and rolling seas of grass, I eagerly awaited the chance to seek out every little thing in this field. As soon as dad set us loose to explore, he began to cut a few trees down to make firewood. I sprung into the

new bales. The best feeling in the world is the feeling of being responsible, even if it is challenging. For me being in charge of making hay by myself was adulthood. The hardest thing I’ve had to overcome was teaching myself how to bale hay alone, because I have never done the whole hay process by myself, I’ve never had to be the one making the decisions about hay, and I’ve never had to be responsible for seeing the crop completed. I started working on this back country farm in February of 2016 for

The effects of drought on hay as an agricultural resource is a significant, yet overlooked, issue in Canada. Its effects need to be examined in order to mitigate damage done to the crops themselves, the agricultural sector, and the economy as a whole. This paper explores the causes, effects and potential solutions to reducing the effects of drought on hay in the future. This paper also covers the differences between American and Canadian agriculture, and the current drought that is affecting Ontario

Final Novel Project In the novel Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck we are introduced to the character of Lennie. Lennie is a pretty lovable character. He is kind and gentle hearted, he would never do anything out of meanness, but yet he is a very misunderstood character. This may be contributed to the fact that Lennie is very large in stature, but I feel it is more of the fact that Lennie doesn’t behave like a “normal person” does. Lennie is very different from how society would want him to behave

Facial Recognition “Lunch is ready!” my mom called. My siblings and I scrambled to reach the house to eat. We sat down to a regular lunch of summer sausage sandwiches. I finished eating and sat at the table with my parents and siblings Daniel, Ben, and Erin. We listened to our parents, anxious to hear what that day would bring. Daniel, Ben, Erin, and I did everything together, and while we didn’t always agree, we always seemed to overcome our squabbles and have fun, while working, of course. Having

a little farm two miles away from Red Fern; her mother, Kristina, had a tough time keeping a sound eye on her. Amidst the cow lot and lake beds she was constantly somewhere unknown; Jordan would be under the bed, in the toy box, and outside in the hay bales. Jordan loved being outside. She found herself making tea in an old coffee can, the tea consisted of grass, berries from evergreen tree, and even rocks. She would stir it together with a stick, until the water turned a pear green. Jordan would

Guilt, despair, and heartache laced the congested ICU room and I trembled, struggling to keep myself upright. My dry, cold hands gripped the countertop, sending pain up my arms from the sharp edges. Thoughts ran through my head, but I couldn’t understand any of them. I stood lost and confused with the rest of my family. My lip quivered as I glanced around at everyone’s sullen faces. All of us were here for one reason. She lay on the small hospital bed in the center of the room, silent and still.

Ryan Kirkby 4th hour Joe the Horse I stared the horse down. He had a tan coat with snarled white hair. I thought stupid horse. “You drag me out of bed to see this big piece of art” I said to my dad not very happily, because when I can get some beauty sleep which is very rare, I like to enjoy it. This big fat horse has ruined it all. He, Joe the thing simply grunted at me. I woke up on a Saturday naturally feeling great. There was no reason to not be happy. I got dressed in rather scruffy clothes

Several miles just outside of Jamestown, sat a small log cabin atop a hill with a long, winding, carmel carriageway. The house was weathered and worn. Dandelion white smoke spewed out of the chimney, and an old wooden rocking chair moved ever so slightly in the delicate wind. Just inside the door sat a chest filled with quilts of many colors, made with scraps and patches of old clothes. Each piece, with uneven stitches, hand sewn with love. To the left sat a cast iron pot, black as night, heating

Two migrant workers, George and Lennie, have been let off of a bus a ways away from the California ranch where they are due to start work. George is a small, dark man with “sharp, strong features.” Lennie, his companion, is his opposite, a massive man with a “shapeless” face. To slake their thirst, the two stop in a clearing by a pool and decide to stay for the night. As the two talk, it becomes clear that Lennie is deeply devoted to George and reliant upon him for protection and guidance. George