Maybe I'm a little too good at making decisions on the fly.
I have gotten myself into quite the pickle before, but can usually wiggle my way out..somehow.
Do you ever run out of clean clothes to wear to work?
Sure ya do, come on.
What do you do?
Duh, you pick something you wouldn't normally wear.
Granted there is, I'm sure, a good reason for it not being in your "every day wear" section
Maybe it's too tight?
Soooo last season?
...Or maybe you were shunned the last time you wore your bikini on casual Friday...
You have good reason, no doubt.
When I run out of work clothes, I have to begin working in my "good-er" items.
Yes, you probably start your week at the top of your pile and work down.
I start at the bottom and work up.
Heck yes I have dust on my dresses.
Jeans are an item I cannot live without.
I don't wear khakis to work, because they are too thin.
I have a number of pairs of jeans that have been rejected through the years as being no longer in style.
I work in them until they are so thin that if I bend my leg I blow the whole knee out.
...Those are in the "summer" line.
I consider them to be "air conditioned".
This morning I had no clean work jeans.
Worse yet, the dirty work jeans were too dirty to give another go-round.
So what did I do?
Pssshhhh...I fumbled my way to the back of the closet, brushed the spider webs away, and blew the dust off of my "normal wear" jeans.
They could use some air.
Yes I do own nice clothes.
Yes I do have jeans that cost over one hundred dollars a pair.
I only own a few pairs of them, but if you must judge then gorightahead.
Keep in mind I wear these when me and my "man" go to the "big city" and eat in restaurants that use tablecloths...
Did I mention that it rained last night?
Like it was a gully washer.
It rained a lot.
I got to work in my fancy pants this morning and was just happy it was not still raining.
I took inventory and discovered a new set of twin bulls, and a baby out in the field with his mother.
The baby was lying right beside the fence and the road...ofcoursehewas.
His momma was with him, and seemed to care, so I kept my eye on them as I fed cows.
I knew that I had to get them into the barn, but needed to devise a plan, since it was too wet to take the loader into the field.
During the hour it took me to feed, approximately 37 cars passed by.
Out of those 37, 34 of them braked violently when they spotted him in the field.
Out of those 34, 30 of them looked at me(on the tractor) and pointed to him.
Out of those 30...ALL of them mouthed "B-A-B-Y" through the window.
...and 3 of them drove by a second time.
So what was the calf doing?
Oh, he was doing his best Human-Society-neglected-animal-in-need impression.
He was muddy and all "accordioned" up standing in front of his mother shivering.
When I finally got finished feeding, and traffic slowed down, I climbed through the fence to see if I could get him to walk.
OK, having no other option, I grabbed his heavy butt up and started toward the barn.
Because being in the cold mud is obviously a better choice, he kicked and thrashed after the first two steps.
Mud= A mixture of poo and wet clay. (Occasionally heavier on the poo-side.)
The thrashing along with his weight and the fact that I could barely unstick my feet that were suction-cupped to the mud, caused me to have second thoughts.
Suddenly, my right foot came out of my boot, which I firmly stepped halfway back into, then he jerked his lower body out of my arms, entangling one of his legs between mine, and we...both...went...crashing...face...first...into....the...mud....in....slow....motion.
And there we were.
Him blowing bubbles in a mud puddle, and me laying on top of him, face in his rib cage, arms underneath his body.
All I could do was laugh and think about all those people passing by.
I got him into the barn, fed and warmed him up.
Then I squished on over to The Heat's house and hosed myself off.
My hundred dollar jeans finally earned their keep.