When Rebecca(Beenie) and I are together, things just...happen to us.
Weird, random, odd things.
Yet I insist that we do all sorts of tasks together. We live on the edge.
That being said, let me axe you this...have you ever been in a group-that you don't know- and managed to single yourself out within minutes of joining that group?
Like..maybe you're 'Smelly Sara', the hairy-underarm mulch-in-dreads hippie, I used to have Ag. Econ with?
Or, 'Laughing Larry', that guy who laughs after everything he says..but it's a way funny laugh so everyone laughs too, but at him, but Larry thinks 'hey! I've got an audience!', so he keeps laughing?
Those are bad examples..no one wants to be Sara or Larry.
But you get my drift, eh?
Before Christmas, I was invited by UT Extension to participate in the first "Management Academy" that they were going to put on.
This academy is for young farmers, and is geared toward helping them get a good grip on the financial aspect of the agricultural industry that they are in.
This is a MUCH NEEDED tool. Brilliant idea, for sure.
Anyway, I was excited about it and Beenie was immediately interested as well.
Seeing as we both wish to continue farming for the rest of our lives, this academy could do nothing but help us in our dream.
Yadayadayada...
The first meeting, an HOUR away, was before Christmas, and was at the OnlyPlaceFarmersHaveMeetings...the Western Sizzlin'.
Yes, "Sizzlin'"...not sizzler..because that would make too much sense.
I'm not sure if you know this, but Beenie and I are the soup-and-salad to other farmers steak-and-potatoes.
We're the 6" turkey sub, to their Thickburger.
I'm not trying to say anything bad about my fellow farmer, but the majority of them eat a little heavier than we do.
'Tis true, 'tis true.
We arrived at the Western Sizzlin'(late, 'cuz it's an HOUR away), and walked in expecting to be given a plate and free-choice of the lunch buffet.
Um, that would be incorrect.
We walked in the banquet room, realized we didn't know anyone and sat down.
Then we were told by the extension agent that we were going to have "chopped steak with a mushroom gravy and baked potato"...
Shut.the.front.door.
I really thought I smiled at him as I contemplated the next thing that would come out of my mouth.
EVIdently the look I gave him caused Beenie to think, buddy, you better come up with something better, 'cuz she's not eatin' that..
And she was right.
Maybe he read my mind, maybe I said something out loud...we will never know, but the agent quickly said, "I think they have chicken".
..It was then that I started breathing again.
What are we, workin' on the prairie?!
I can't eat steak inthemiddleoftheday!!
Then go back to work!!
Pfffffttttt!!
Do I look like I eat a steak for lunch?!
My body would shut.down!
I'd be passed out in a calf hutch!
So, as everyone else, including the extension agents, ate their chopped steak, Beenie and I enjoyed our sausage-patty-sized piece of chicken(I don't know if it was a breast, thigh, combination...) served over a lovely rice pilaf.
Hooooboy! High maintenance.
Ugh, ugh, ugh...I knew the entire time what I had done.
Why Rachael?
Why couldn't you have just eaten the steak, or moved it around on your plate?
I singled us out.
I mean, we were already the only females...at our own cootie-fied table...while the guys sat at theirs and talked about the corn crop, and how they wished there had been "more emphasis on the mushrooms in the gravy"..
Now, we are the picky ones.
The typical, "I'll just have a salad" girls.
We had our second meeting yesterday, this time at the county extension office.
On the way there, Beenie and discussed what we thought we would have for lunch...chicken.
Before the meeting started, the agent walked in and said(to the whole class), "Lunch will be catered, they will be bringing us french dip subs with au jus," then just to Beenie and I, "and..of course...chicken salad".
Chicken ladies.
I'm bringing lasagna next time.
Love,
EatMoreChickenCowLady
P.s. Jackson says "Hi"...:)
Pretty sure I had a class with Smelly Sara. Didn't she have a Smelly boyfriend? Gross. It is totally better to be the Chicken Ladies. But then again, they probably wouldn't notice if you smelled.
ReplyDeleteWe all have to be known for something! I mean, look at the hot messes I have accumulated...
ReplyDeleteLove, yourkidherdingpethoardingcousinamy