That’s Life

Without hat and gloves, I fed the dogs tonight, and when I did, I looked over to the pasture to see a cow lingering thirstily by the water trough. Stuffing the dog food cups in my coat pocket, I waltzed to the end of the hose, stuffed it in the trough, then meandered to the water hydrant and connected the metal end. Turning on the hydrant, I noted how cold my hands were getting and said,

“I will come back out with hat and gloves to finish up the watering.”

I then proceeded to the house, where I…

  • stepped in the front door and was thankful for the warmth.
  • said, “I’ll go back out in a few minutes.”
  • took off my muck boots and coat.
  • lifted my laptop from the floor to the kitchen island and turned it on.
  • cleaned some bowls and mixing cups.
  • put every Coldplay song I own (which is close to all of them) on shuffle and began to play “Life in Technicolor II.”
  • checked Facebook.
  • added an event to the calendar on my phone.
  • made pizza crust from scratch for some calzones.
  • began to wipe down a kitchen counter.

And that’s when I realized…

“Oh! Agh!”

And I slid around the house in my Carhartt wool-socked feet, looking for my hat and gloves.

“Aah! Hat! OK! Gloves! In the car. Why? Locked? Yes, but why do I even do that? This.Always.Happens.”

I threw on my boots and dashed out of the house, dog leaping around me. Ordered her to “Stay” when I opened the car door to retrieve my heavy gloves decorated with the Purdue emblem (helps you work harder). Strode to the hydrant and turned it off. Observed the pool of water at the base of the trough. Didn’t look too hard to see if water flowed out of the two small holes toward the top of the tank, which marked the maximum fill line. I’m sure it did.

I shut off the water, disconnected the hose, dragged the end of it out of the trough and straightened it out. Lifting the hose over my head, I stepped down its entire length, draining the water out of it to avoid freezing. Then, with dog leaping around me again, I came back inside into the warmth of the house.

I have got to staple something to my forehead next time.


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