Monday, February 3, 2014

We Survived...

the weather, that is.

It is really cold and we did have some precipitation, but nothing debilitating.  This is good because I have enough things in my life that are doing their best to be debilitating.  Saturday was very busy.  I had to get caught up on some house hold chores. *yuck*  Plus, get a grip on what I was behind on.  This is what you have to do when a large part of your week is diverted to emergency duties.  No worries.  All is still possible and I managed to maintain a positive attitude.

My positive attitude had started first thing that morning.  This may seem trivial, unless you understand the seriousness of colic, because let me tell you, it is serious.  Horses in this world die from colic on a daily basis, but the fact that I rolled out of bed on Saturday morning and tore into a sprint for the barn should tell you something.  Upon arriving, gasping for air, I quickly celebrated the piles of poop both my horses had deposited in their stalls.  This made my morning start out something like this...


Most definitely, had you been present, you would have seen me bustin' a few of these very moves, right down the isle-way of my barn.  I danced on over to collect the rake.  Then, I danced on out to collect the wheel barrow.  Then, I danced back in and proceeded to scoop up every bit of poop like it was gold.

Money in my pocket!

After that, things got really crazy.  I cleaned.  I laundered.  I cooked.  I rearranged.  I made a ton of bee syrup.


Well, not a ton, but almost four gallons.  The problem with bee syrup.  You can not help from making a mess.  You end up with sugar on the floor.  Syrup all over the counter.  Syrup on the mixer.  Syrup on anything that touches anything.

Crazy.

I fully intended on reporting these facts to you on Sunday, but my day did not start out so good.  For one thing - COLD.  I put on my sweats, and then I pulled on my coveralls.  I headed out to the barn.  Did a little jig for poop!  Sorry, it may be a daily thing from now on.  Took care of the horses and proceeded to the chicken barn.  I had a heat lamp bulb out and I wanted to check their water and feed status.  It ended up not being just a bulb thing, but a light thing.  Not to worry, I had an extra light.  It was just a matter of getting it into place.  I filled feeders.  Water was good.  All I needed to do was gather eggs and head inside.

One problem - I forgot my egg basket.

This would normally not be a huge issue, but I had other things to carry as well.  Stopping to think about how bad an idea this was, I slowly started slipping eggs into my front pocket.  There seemed to be room, but my concern was with any possible bending that I may need to do.  As luck would have it, there were several times when I needed to bend at the waist.  Each time, holding my breath and moving very slowly, I bent.  Each time, doing my best to keep me leg as straight as possible on that side.  Each time, success!

No broken eggs! 

I made it all the way to the kitchen.  As I was explaining the above to my Full-timer, I was reaching in my pocket to retrieve said eggs.  The first one I grabbed busted.  In my shock, trying to keep my hand closed around the gooey mess that was exploding in my pocket, I couldn't get my closed fist out of my pocket.  This created a bit of a panic and more mess.  By the time I got the bulk of the broken egg out of my pocket, plus the other eggs, the yolk had soaked through to my sweats.

Dang it!

My coveralls went straight into the washer.

This did not ruin my day.

I managed to have a relaxing Sunday.

Fast forward to this morning...I roll out of bed.  I stumble to the laundry room to find my sweat pants from the previous morning.  My Full-timer was nice enough to wash them for me.  Then, I made my way to the kitchen to fill some buckets with warm water.  I wanted to take them with me to the barn.  I have been hauling buckets with each trip.  I noticed a large box of spinach on the table that had been meant to go to the chickens.  I had asked my Full-timer to carry it out there on one of her trips yesterday, but she looked at me all confused as to how she was supposed to carry two five gallon buckets of water and a box of spinach?  I told her to leave it - I would get it later.

Well...24 hours later and it was still there.  I grabbed my two five gallon buckets of water and made my way to the door.  Then I stopped, grabbing the box of spinach and tucking it under my arm.  Once I had it secured, I reached down and grabbed both my buckets.  I headed across the back yard.  As I approached the barn, I was thinking to myself that it really had not been hard to carry all of it.  I was already relishing in the fact that I was going to be able to brag a little when I got back to the house.  It was at precisely this moment that I hit a small patch of ice on a slight downward slope that leads to the door I wanted to enter.  I slid a little, staying up right.  Then - it all went haywire.  I was slipping and sliding and skidding - swinging my buckets wildly while trying to save every drop of water inside them - while squeezing my box of spinach under my left arm.  Without the box of spinach the whole adventure would be pointless.  By the time I finally came to a stop, I was on the ground, on one knee, other leg out in an attempt to do the splits like Bruno Mars during the Half-Time show!  I only had a half a bucket of water left.  I was wearing the other bucket and a half of water, but I was still holding my box of spinach.

I am still trying to decide if I count this as a success or failure.

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