After a 10 lustrum marriage, Frieda imagines something’s wrong. She’d decided I had to take her in for counseling. The counselor talking to us asked Frieda first what was the problem, she went into a rage, listing every problem we’ve ever had in over a half century’s marriage.
She went on and on…..she did…..Spouting neglect, lack of intimacy, loneliness, unloved, unlovable……Getting her wind……he neglects me, he doesn’t pat me on my butt anymore….I don’t think he loves me anymore. I know its a list long of ignored needs for our over a half century marriage, I need help and understanding…...
After allowing this to go on and on for a couple minutes, the marriage counselor finally interrupts and asked her to shut up, then he stood up, walked around his desk, gave her his hand to help her up. Then he took her into his arms, hugged her, embraced her, caressed and kissed her deeply on her toothless mouth.
Frieda had been shut up, finally quiet, and dazed, sat back down. That…that counselor….he had the nerve to turn to me and say, “Your wife at least needs this treatment seven times a week. Think you can do this?”
Well, I looked at him. I was steaming but thought better than to blow off, and thought, “What if she needs this, she needs it.” Egads the cost in gas and time the daily drive……I finally gave in, “Well Mr., I’m gonna have a hard time doing it everyday. I’m getting into the midst of calf dropping, readying tractors and implements for planting, plus readying more tractors for cutting and baling hay. I spose I could bring her in on the rainy days.”
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Once an for all we’ve have our good side of our farm life. Thunder storms all night long. Glory be, we at least got 2”…that’s two full inches and some…..over 2”sure enough rain last night. Its still raining as I, morning, write this before lunch. Ground’s so dry not a drop of it is run off the land. The land needs it so badly. We’ve got water puddles filled full. Got water laying in the barnyard creek not a going anywhere. I haven’t looked yet but I know’s all the swales have got to be holding some this thunderous delivered blessing from the heavens.
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Meanwhile:
Dark and continuing thunder rolls and rain, making it a continued rainy day, I just might as well to take Frieda to where she’s got to be taken for that Mr..
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No heavy projects in the shop, after lunch I’m gonna work on my azzkicker. It has set around here more than long enough. Gonna drop the 6v & 12v split wiring for motor and signal receiver, and wire anew a new different remote switch receiver and see what it‘ll do.
I’m disappointed. More than two maybe three hours I played with that cussed stubborn azzkicker. I ain’t got it to work yet. While I worked on that azzkicker I watched more the rain come down. By my fingered rain gauge I estimate we’ve totaled 2 ½” rain.
Somewhat disappointed in finding out what didn’t work to make my azzkicker function I called it quits for today. Did chores and come home to settle in for a rainy day.
Home. Inside, becoming total acclimated to a relaxed mode, I found I had been hurting all day with that darn Arthur Rite Ass. Well settled remembering I hadn’t finished my laundry the phone rings, “Do you know where the anti-kicker is?” The line sounding like accusation I was a mite peeved. I told him, It’s hanging on the wall up in the barn.” There were more words between us. Hanging up I tried to think of where it might have gotten to. I checked the back entry among all the things I had set in there for a mere overnight stay. Then I went down to the barn. Nope, not here, I hadn’t brought it home. Finally unable to take it any longer I got in Ugly truck and drove down to the other end.
Walking into the barn there it was leaning against the wall. Somebody had found it, rather, Keith had remembered he had put it in the lower shed with all the 4H stuff last summer. I didn’t say anything.
Having checked on the sick calf I found it hadn‘t made it. The poor mama cow morning her loss, I’m thinking Bro’ and Keith had taken a drive someplace and brought home an orphaned dairy calf. Light red in color, what was it. Getting no straight answers I’ll check it out tomorrow, my not wanting to interrupting a cow/calf bonding scene. And those two guys weren’t about to tell me nothing. What flavor calf was it: Jersey, Brown Swiss, Devon, Ayrshire, Guernsey, a dairy Shorthorn? BGKC.
Fernan
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1 comment:
Get the skillet Frieda. The old man is full of BS again.
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