I do NOT apologize for not blogging for a while. It’s summer. I live on a farm. I’m managing 6 grants. I did not MAKE time to blog. No worries! This blog will be a series of short stories to catch you up on life on the farm. You may laugh. You may cry. You may be concerned for my sanity. You will be educated on the dangers of being a charmed farm wife.
Without further adieu:
July 6: We started straw. It was the hottest day of the year to date. It was so hot. We started baling at 3 p.m. We did four wagons and felt like we were dying. Luckily, no one died. No one even threw up!
July 8: We continue to bale. It’s not as hot. I help after work. I help with 4 or 5 wagons, and pick up dinner for the very helpful crew for which I am so appreciative. I got back without missing an opportunity to help unload (lucky me!).
Lee’s cousin says: “I guess I can move this bale now that we’re done.”
Me: “Yeah. Until I fall in the hole it’s covering.”
2 minutes later, I’m IN the hole. My right leg is the whole way though. My left leg and right arm stop me from falling through. One would think my super chunky butt would keep me from going through? FALSE! Apparently this is the only time my butt is not big enough for safety reasons.
The result? A very black and blue right thigh – both inside and out – and a right arm that snaps somewhere between the shoulder and elbow.
If you’re concerned for my health now, don’t be. It healed. This is only the beginning.
July 11: I got a flat tire on my way to work. The tire I hit a curb with, my husband said he’d fix almost 3 weeks ago and never did. I call said husband who chooses not to answer his phone. (He got a new phone and instead of finding a ring tone that works, is loud enough, and he “approves” of, he used one he “can’t hear” and therefore “didn’t hear” my call.) Use the AAA membership my mom bought for me to get it changed, get home, and take my trusty little red truck to work. Said trusty little red truck’s check engine light was on because said husband selected not to fix it a month prior as promised. (A theme?)
July 11, 11 a.m.: Said husband now clearly knows he has some serious butt kissing to do, and spends the next two weeks trying to rectify that. Charmed farm wife appreciates the effort and chooses to forget the falling in the barn floor helping with the one farm chore she absolutely hates and failure to fix charmed farm wife’s vehicles.
July 13: Charmed farm wife meets with the Real Farm Wives of Berks County and Friends for an evening outside, enjoying wine, and ends up with mosquito bites ALL over her feet.
July 14: Charmed farm wife’s left foot swells to the size of a small club and turns black and blue.
July 15: Charmed farm wife chooses to go to doctor who says, “Are you SURE if was a mosquito and not a tick?” Charmed farm wife starts steroids and antibiotics.
July 16: Charmed farm wife turns green and then red while speaking with co-workers. Charmed farm wife’s heart starts to beat 1,000 miles per hour, and feels as though it’s about to beat right out of her throat. Charmed farm wife’s co-workers call 9-1-1, and charmed farm wife gets her first-ever ambulance ride.
Charmed farm wife’s co-worker calls Farmer Lee and says, “Now don’t be alarmed, but Jodi is on her way to the hospital in an ambulance.”
Farmer Lee thinks, “The only people who go in ambulances are DYING or ABOUT TO DIE.” Farmer Lee learns where Paoli Hospital is, and how to get there in exactly one hour including wash time at the shop. Farmer Lee says to charmed farm wife, “When I go to the hospital, it is self-inflicted. Everyone knows what’s wrong with me. I try to cut my FINGER off. I dislocate my shoulder a couple times. I get steel in my eye. I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU!”
No worries, Farmer Lee. Neither does anyone else. Clean blood tests. Good EKG. No ideas. Diagnosis? Dizziness. Thanks for that.
Charmed farm wife got messed up on steroids. She remained dizzy for the next week until the meds were out of her system. No worries. We’re good now. I think.
I’ve said that before.
July 22: Storms. Lots of storms. Simultaneous thunder and lightening crack that made me SCREAM. (I don’t scream, really, much.) The electricity did not go out in the house.
July 23: Charmed farm wife has a work meeting for which she must get to work early, set up breakfast, make copies, finish getting stuff ready by 9 a.m. It takes at least 1 hour to get to work.
I have 1.3 hours to get to work. I check the freezers for our beef just in case. No electricity. None. I must call charmed farm wife’s father-in-law because Farmer Lee is MIA.
F-I-L has to teach me what a fuse is, where to find them, and how to change them via phone. Charmed farm wife successfully changes 2 fuses and still has no electricity. Charmed farm wife MUST leave and F-I-L must come home from work. Good thing he did, because the electric fencer (that thing that makes the fence electrified) was blown up. Super.
And there was another fuse in the long, twisty, not so good wiring system that needed changed in between our basement and the summer house where the freezers are. Even better.
Charmed farm wife has the best luck.
July 24: Today. Charmed farm wife went and got a massage. She’s kind of a man down. Not that she can be because she has to reapply for one of the six grants she manages this week, but nonetheless, she’s not swell.
Things could be worse!
Just thinking out loud here, but hope you aren’t opposed to writing in the third person. If you are, I make no promises about this or future blog posts. I have no rules in blogging. At least not right now.
So tonight, I made homemade eggplant parmesan. I drank half of a bottle of Chardonel wine (I don’t know what kind of mix it is, but it’s pretty good for a white). I’m playing catch up on beef record keeping.
I will try to conquer work, and life, again tomorrow.
One thing at a time!
Until the next mishap.