1. The past week has been a bit crazy for me. Last Sunday I drove into our driveway and through the gate at bedtime, after a marathon weekend of negotiations. I was exhausted, yet elated, and feeling more than a little bit guilty for leaving Brett to take care of the animals and fend for his own meals. I dropped my bag in its spot by the counter, thankful that it no longer contained my laptop from work. Brett was sound asleep, his recliner pushed all the way back, his favorite blanket (covered in pictures of his grandkids), pulled up to his neck and his head phones on - broadcasting a football game. Kersey looked up at me from her bed in her crate and thumped her tail twice. Brett woke up, and congratulated me on closing the deal. As I lay in bed, my head sore and tired, but adrenaline still coursing through my body and keeping me from my much needed sleep, I thought about how much I love this man; instead of snarling about the late hour, or the canned soup he had for dinner, or the chores he had to do by himself -- he said, "I'm so proud of you."
2. Saturday morning, before I started work, I did help with the chores. I was mucking the oak pasture when I heard a loud crash. I looked towards the front pasture and saw a big cloud of dust rising in the air with Mufasa and Flash running hell-for-leather in front of it. Brett came out of the barn and we went to investigate. There were a couple fence posts down, one snapped in two, and 60 feet of cross rails and wire fencing down. The wire fencing was laying in the middle of the pasture. Flash and Mufasa were, amazingly, not hurt. We don't know which of them got caught on the fence, or how. Brett put them in the barn. Mufasa, in particular, was scared. He ran to Brett and was happy to leave the pasture.
3. Brett spent the rest of the weekend and Monday installing new fence. It is straight and sturdy, shiny and new next to the rest of the old sagging, fragile fence. Flash and, especially, Mufasa were happy to be back in their pasture. Mufasa hates the barn.
4. Sunday, while at work, I was sitting with my team waiting for the other party's counter proposal. We were talking about what our spouses were doing, and what we were missing out on at home. I mentioned the fence and was told that I need to get Brett a post hole digger. Pronto. I think they are right. He had to dig all the holes by hand and his body hurts for a good week afterwards.
5. I'm looking forward to a quiet weekend. We may even get some rain on Sunday. A cold rain -- the kind that requires a cheerful fire in the wood stove and a pie in the oven.
It's wonderful to read about your love for Brett. I have never forgotten what you wrote when he had shingles and you couldn't touch him. Get the man a post hole digger, surprise him with one.
ReplyDeleteIt was Mufasa that got tangled up. When the farrier came on Wednesday and pulled Mufasa's front shoes, he noticed a wire imprint on the sole between the shoe and the bottom of the hoof. Said he was amazed that the shoe didn't come off.
ReplyDeleteyes for the post digger. We rent them when we need to install fence posts.
ReplyDeleteglad your boys were not hurt (except for brett's aches!) and congrats on your hard work paying off.
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