A woman proud of her man’s skillsPublished 9:30am Friday, July 19, 2013
I had had to stay home to let the dogs out to pee, you see.
“As I sat in Ebenezer church and heard Bernice speak, she would mention, “Daddy” and “Mom,” and it hit me who ‘daddy’ and ‘mom’ were,” he continued, “Just to be surrounded by that history and family, well, I still can’t quite believe it all happened.”
“Why not?” I asked. “You worked so hard on that project for months, making sure everything was coordinated and the perfect rose chosen. I’m not surprised at all.”
“Still,” he said, “It’s just being a part of the historical significance of it all.”
“Yes, it’s a very big deal,” I agreed, then, checking my watch, added, “I need to bring the horses in for dinner and I want to clean Teddy’s paddock beforehand, otherwise he’ll push over the wheelbarrow while I’m trying to clean. Your choice: either help pick up his droppings or push the wheelbarrow to the manure pile.”
Paul chose the latter and a half hour later, we were in the first sprinkles of rain, caring for our critters. Because that’s what farm life is all about: you might have wondrous moments of glory and triumph in the big city, but when you come back home, you find your feet firmly back on the ground.
Usually in muck boots.