Our first six egger
some thoughts on surprising fortune
Yesterday wasn’t much of a day, dear reader.
As one without employment, I’ve had the odd day where I’ve done little but go for a walk and spend some time riding my trainer.
The day seemed to slip away.
I slept late. Lingered. Moped.
I thought that I’d get things done. Something. Anything!
Didn’t happen.
I did pretty much nothing all day long.
That was unexpected.
At around 3:30 I felt that mild panic and regret when it seems like a day has slipped away.
That?
That was to be expected.
Did I watch a hockey game? Or was that the day before?
Maybe it was mountain bike restoration videos. Or maybe drawknife sharpening.
It’s all just blending together - days, videos, memes, like the snowdrifts swallowing up backyards around here.
It was a nice day though.
The sun shone brightly. Temperatures cracked zero and all in all the air was pretty still and windless.
Late in the evening I drove with my daughter to the barn.
She was there to teach.
Me?
I had four hours to kill before driving her the forty five minutes it takes to return home.
I planned to sit in the car and write, but then?
There was work to do.
It was pretty unexpected.
Well. For me it was unexpected.
For the Travis and his wife Dot, chores are pretty much always expected.
I helped.
We began with feeding
First the bullies, then the wimps.
Four mid pack horses got fed in a run in.
Then the final turds and the cow who wishes she had a saddle were fed outside.
There’s something wonderful about the scent of a riding barn in the winter.
The musk of the horses mixed with the peaty delight of turds in straw glazed with piss bearing a scent that can best described as penetratingly present all dancing on a quickly turning frost.
But underneath this?
The scent of sun warmed earth whispered a promise of spring’s imminent return.
Horses in, horses out, horses fed, job done, it was time to put out some hay.
Last summer a square of hay was four bucks, now it’s eighteen. That’s why we’re charging you more.
Travis does not like participating in inflation.
It was such a dry summer, we only got one cut of hay.
We piled the bales onto the tractor - ten in total to last them the night - then motored up to the electric fence.
The moon hung with a Cheshire Cat smile - all orange from ear to ear.
The sky was so big and stars so bright, I stood there for a moment and just took it all in. I glowed in the moment:
I’m so small. This is so vast. How absolutely absurd it is that we get to do this!
The smell of the hay, manure and diesel danced as we rattled to the roar of the tractor.
And?
Funny enough, despite the fact that I was standing next to a fully operating diesel engine, surrounded by horses aggressively interested in eating the hay I was trying to spread, things seemed oddly quiet and calm.
Dear reader, have you ever entered a field, mid winter to distribute hay to hungry horses?
They are big, heavy and can be equal parts pushy and clumsy at times.
I’m happy to report that I emerged without a broken foot - though I did shout at Cody and bopped him on the nose: FUCK OFF CODY!
While Travis repaired a section of electric fence, I wandered up to the top of the hill to get just a little further away from humanity and just a bit closer to the stars.
Basking in the glory of creation I felt an odd peace wash over me. The horses were eating. They were like a bunch of high school kids in the cafeteria. They all found their place; First the bullies, then the wimps then the mid packers, then finally the three other turds.
And the cow who still dreams of a saddle?
She was lying in a pile of straw.
There wasn’t a cloud in the sky nor a fart of wind in the air.
I guess I spent the whole day waiting for this.
That was unexpected.
Travis roared the tractor to life. I ran down the hill to leave the field with him.
As I ran, the horses all spooked. They bucked and galloped. Some ran away, others ran with me. For a moment we were connected in motion, dancing and playing under a Cheshire Cat smile.
That too was unexpected.
Upon returning home I was greeted by George down the street.
His seventeen year old daughter was having kids over for beers.
He wanted to get out of the house so he wouldn’t have to listen to them. He figured it would be safer for everyone if he just made himself scarce.
I mean, leaving a large group of teenage girls alone in a house with a bunch of booze after a high school hockey game, what could possibly go wrong?
George is a great guy.
Great guy, terrible judgement.
We went to the bar. George had just started his second beer when his phone rang. Call display said UNKNOWN NUMBER.
That can mean only one thing.
Cops.
You think it’s the cops Jimmy?
I dunno George, better answer it.
I was right. It was the cops. We had been gone less than an hour and one of our neighbours had called the cops on George’s house complaining about underage drinking.
We finished up at the bar and I drove us home.
No, dear reader, I did not drink and drive. I had kombucha and George had two Double IPA’s.
He was drinking for two.
We got back to our street and there were four cop cars there.
That was unexpected.
It seems that once George left pretty much the entire school showed up.
I stood there gaping as they left.
First the bullies, then the nerds. The middle of the packers came out in a semi civli stream.
Then?
Then came the turds.
And finally,
There was the cow.
Daisy had made it all the way from the barn to the teenage drinking party in search of someone to ride her.
Why else did you think she wanted a saddle, dear reader?
And?
Did you think I was going to make some body shaming joke about a child?
I’m an asshole, not a monster.
Are you George Jordan, the owner of this house? There have been neighbour complaints. People’s houses have been egged.
That was unexpected.
With a little smile of awe on my face I left George to clean egg off his face in front of the entire street.
I opened the door to see Laura.
It was a good day love, Six hens, six eggs - our first six egger!
That was unexpected.
Laura smiled.
I smiled, then went on to brush my teeth and finally bring this day that lingered from shame to infamy, one unexpected event after another.
Some days you’ll be productive on purpose.
Other days, you do nothing
And then, dear reader, there will be those days when six eggs show up, despite your best efforts to do nothing.
And when they do?
Don’t go throwing them at a bunch of high school students.
Stay random you fools!
