Follies, not to be confused with follicles
Farm follies are frequently funny … and though I may be filled with rage one instant, I’m usually laughing about any given scenario the next. Take a look at this photo, for instance:
Who in their right mind would expect cattle to grind a stump?
This stump has been around for ages. It can’t be burned, it’s too expensive to hire a stump grinder and many a woodpecker has bent his beak try to carve out a hole in it. Yes, it was a fine place to position an old wheel barrow, but you know what? Thanks to wayward cattle the stump is almost gone.
And I’m glad!
And speaking of that wheelbarrow — it can be fixed. It had a screw loose anyway … kinda like me. I love to write about the weird and unexpected occurrences that happen around here. I’m easily amused — and angered, I’ll admit it — but after the frustrations are vented I see the humor in most situations.
The fact that there was a bull loose in the china shop hen house is actually a positive. Why, you ask? Because apparently, the hens are scared enough to actually lay their eggs in the henhouse and I didn’t have to hunt in the bushes this evening.
As for the cow pies, well … I could just wait until they’re old and stale and then shape them into those little garden fertilizer bunnies. I’ll be rich, thanks to those cows.
So … now that I’ve said my piece — or is it peace? — I’d like to tell you about my own personal follies. Because I’m NOT perfect either, though I know that must come as a shock to you all (ahem!).
1) This evening I whipped up a double batch of cookie dough — almost. I didn’t have enough eggs.
2) I was working in the barn the other evening and I had to pee. I was almost finished, ALMOST! so I just kept working until, to my utter mortification, I peed my pants.
3) My son ran around half naked most of Fourth of July weekend — but he didn’t pee HIS pants, not even once.
4) Last week, I left the gate open in the barn and the beast we call Butters was out galavanting around my yard. She left a few piles of poop for me, too.
And here is further proof that I am prone to frequent folly and misfortune, just like my friends, neighbors and countrymen and women! I’m always soooo politically correct, you know:
5) One time, when MY COWS were out for the third time in two weeks while Farm Boy was at work, I became so enraged that I jumped in the truck and tore through the yard to chase them back up to the barn. Mud and dirt were flying as fast as the curse words from my mouth (I only know one, mind you). I almost hit an apple tree and I nearly hit a steer who tried to play chicken with me and my blaring horn.
I’m full of folly and frequent, fantastical misfortunes. Oh, and my follicles are giving me gooseflesh.