While it is rather picturesque, as you can tell from the pictures, it has created some problems for me. I finished my first week at my new job (it is great and I really like my co-workers) and I was going to go out clothes shopping for some business casual attire. As you can tell from my photo, I tend to where suits and top hats, so I was a bit over-dressed this week. Unfortunately, the nearest "big and tall" men's shoppe is quite a distance and driving might become an issue.
Thus, as I debated going out into the world this afternoon, I tended to my morning farm chores. When I went up to deal with the horses, I found that someone had up-ended both of the outside hay racks. It was quite obviously Snow. One of the hay racks had been beaten to a pulp and was incapable of standing up straight. (Sadly, I think that brave little hay rack has seen its last days.) Since it has been raining/snowing every day for the past two months, we have been putting most of the hay in the wall-mounted racks in their schluffin' barn. Apparently, Snow wanted a bit more hay and took it out on the empty hay racks in the pasture. (That will teach them to withhold food from her.) This could be an issue. Thus, I decided I would take a hay rack from a vacant stall and put it up in the schluffin' barn to hold additional food... and prevent future outbursts.
I'm going to try to paint a picture of just how amazingly all-American and completely manly this was. The hay rack is bolted into the wall and I was going to need my ratchet set to remove it. I was also going to need my cordless drill to pre-drill the holes for the bolts when I re-mounted it in the barn. Thus, I walked down to the garage and grabbed my Black and Decker drill and a large drill bit. I also grabbed my ratchet wrench and both metric and SAE sockets... because I didn't know the size of the bolts and I was not about to be unprepared. Being unprepared is not manly.
So there I was, dressed in dirty Carhartt work pants with a ratchet wrench sticking out of my back pocket, a heavy hooded Carhartt jacket with hay bits flecked all over it, a knit winter hat, Muck Boots with mud all over them, and carrying a drill. As I walked past my big, honkin' Ford F-150, Cowboy and Sarah, two dirty and very American, yellow labs came up on either side of me to watch my very manly endeavor. Then out of nowhere, Brett Favre drove up in a rusty old pick-up truck, which he obviously doesn't own. He jumped out wearing Wrangler jeans, that he obviously doesn't wear, and threw a football to me in a perfect spiral. I dove to make a great catch and slid through the mud. Brett and I both laughed at the good wholesome fun we were having. Then Mike Rowe, from Discovery Channel's Dirty Jobs drove up, pointed to my truck and noted that it is a good time to own a Ford truck. (Note: I still think of him as Mike from the Sunday Showcase of Homes, which was a local Baltimore program, but that is not quite as manly). Mike and Brett asked if they could help, but I, being as manly as I am, declined. They both hung their heads and walked away sulking, as I climbed over the fence into my top pasture and started heading towards my barn with the giant, metal, patriotic, American flag-themed, Amish-made barn star. I walk through the barn and both Ellie and Snow turned and took note of their confident, hard-working owner. They were obviously quite impressed. I walked over to the schluffin' barn and opened the subject stall which is empty except for an old ladder, some old barn wood, and a few discarded stall doors. I walked right up to the hay rack, fitted the socket onto the first bolt and started ratcheting.
Now, it was at this moment that my hand went into a spider web and I screeched and started flailing around, slapping at my hand and arm just in case a brown reclusive spider was about to bite me. You might think that this was not a particularly manly course of conduct, but it is just good common sense. The bite of a brown reclusive spider can cause a nasty, painful, ulcer-like wound that turns all purple. The bite can even cause more serious issues such as a fever, kidney damage, and/or death. Thus, it just made sense to try to stun it with a high-pitched scream and then use my cat-like reflexes to strike it dead. Granted, I'm not sure there was a spider, but when you've got manly, ninja-skills, it is hard to turn 'em off.
Anyway, I put the hay rack up in an accessible area so that the horses could make use of it, and I quickly went back to the house to shower. Also common sense, since I don't know if any creepy spider eggs got on me... eeeeeew.
It was a very manly day.
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