The Just Johanna girls had a few challenges, as did a few other sites. The goal was to make pirate type cards. I watched it all from a distance, but just could not muster up me timbers to get off me bloody ars and participate. Nope. It was on September 19th, Friday, first day of moving Huffalumps (Heifers) and Woozles (Direct Market Beef). No fun to be had.
I really think such a monumental day should be closer to Halloween, when we are more than likely willing to be sportin' our Pirate and Wenchy attitudes.. Come to think of it, I know a few Wenches. Perhaps I should give those girls a call. Stir something up. Now I am in the mood!
*****But then there was today... which really was a match made in Heaven for Talk Like a Pirate Day..
No, I take that back. Today surpassed Talk Like a Pirate Day. It was more like.....
Curse Like a Sailor Day!
Yep. Little ol' me was really lettin' the sails flap out there early this am.
It all started with another love note from Mr. Sexton who had to leave before the crack of dawn to take 8 beef on a road trip. He needed me to move the Huffalumps again, by my lonesome, and go out and feed Jessie, along with all the other stinkin' chores. It was a pleasant morning, dressed in my Eskimo Gear (have you seen my jester ski hat? HOT!)... and scraping the ice off the four-wheeler seat.
- The day started with 25 degrees of frosty weather.
- The kids are both are home sick with colds
- I am sportin' a close 2nd to their illness
- Mr. Sexton left about 6:30 am
- I went out at 7 am
- Returned at 8:30 am. Hotter than heck, wearing considerably less clothing - call it a fever, hot headed, or catching the bug. I don't care. The flames are still flickin', and I had to get those things off! Paramenapaus?
(Warning.. Foul language ahead.... )
Oh.. what is a stretch gate, you ask?
It's made of barbed wire, looks like a gate when stretched, (about 4 strands of barbed wire, with posts every 4 feet or so) yet when lying flat is a tangle of disaster waiting to trip any unsuspecting animal or human. These things are typically long enough so a truck can pass through.
Did I mention you have to stretch it to make the gate? As in who ever invented these things did not leave any room for 'play'? No extra inches to the gate? YOU MUST GET IT RIGHT AND HAVE ARMS MADE OF STEEL TO CLOSE THEM ?????? AAAAAAA!!!
My job was to drive through field A which contained the Llama and sheep
Get to the *&#&# stinking stretch gate, which was closed, and separated Field A from Field B
Open the stretch gate,
to get into field B, where the Huffalumps were, so I could take down a hot fence so they could have more grass.
Oh.. The #&*((* stretch gate was stretched across a water hazard (I love that golf term!), aka ditch.
I had no intention of driving through the gate, I just wanted to open it a 'teeny weeny' so I could walk to the other side, then close the Son OF A B*#&.
That gate had no mercy. The inventor, also made this handy little device, called a stick, that is chained to the fence. You are to use it like a fulcrum to wedge it against the gate, pull it and the gate to the fence, then undo the loop of wire over the gate post to have it suddenly become limp and useless (the gate). You do the reverse to tighten the gate, but oh the gate and the loop of wire tend to not want to 'hook up' when it's time to close the gate!!! Which is where all sailors came to pay homage to me today.
I fought with that Son OF A B#^$ for several minutes. Super long, start tearing your clothes off and sweating minutes.
The stick thang is made for right handed folks. I am convinced. My husband dissagrees.
I am left handed.
And you need upper body strength.
I have none.
I could open the gate.
And close it on the 'right side' when I could use my left arm with the long end of the stick.
But, gee, to close it on the 'left side' with just the stub of the stick, was not working for me. I did try turning it around to have the long side, but it was not agreeing with me. I am so left brained! Or is it right brained? I confuse myself....
Hence, my Curse Like a Sailor Day... And boy did I let it rip.. And rip... and rip. This keeps the tears at bay. Tetering on a breakdown. Foot stomping, those sorts of things.
The neighbors most certainly did not have their windows open, too cold. Or, they would have been shocked.
The dogs got a few new terms for their card playing nights.
I thought about tying the damn thing with my jester hat and leaving it that way. But I did not want to be responsible for the Huffalumps getting mixed up with the sheep and Llama.. Bad mojo.
So.. I went back into Field B, the Huffalump side, closed the F(#*$n gate. then crawled through a section of barb wire to get back into field A.
And that was the beginning of my day.
I'll take a photo of that gate later.