Farm Follies

This winter has been full of experiences which I will laugh at later in life. Like twenty years from now. “Remember that winter where there was 3 feet of rock-like frost in the ground and the water main into the house broke under it? Hahaha that was an experience, we’ll say. We’ll share them like war stories with other old-house owners, or fellow farmers. Like all other fun Iowan farm stories, the reality of it, being in the middle of it, makes me want to eat an entire batch of cookie dough. And finish that off with a pint of ice cream and a grande nonfat with whip white chocolate mocha. And then cry. And then repeat.

But because the new struggles are just a bit too raw to make light of just yet, let’s review some of the previous doozies for fun, shall we?

My personal favorite and the one that initiated us into the community of farm-embarrassment: the time we had 3000 ladybeetles appear in a gigantic crawling swarm days before four friends came to stay with us. The little beetles set up camp and stayed for, oh, the entire visit. Our friends and the bugs engaged in all-out war that ended with squealing and “the wicked witch is dead!” being triumphantly shouted down the stairs post-bug-massacre.
The time Phil’s sister and brother in law stayed with us and the toilet ran overnight, flooding the basement and leaving us waterless with three children and four adults in the house. (hmm, that one still doesn’t seem very funny)
When we were driving the big green truck back from Illinois and it overheated so we pulled off the freeway to let it rest. It stalled and we were unable to revive it at the stoplight directly off the freeway, so we all piled into the car. Two blocks down, the car got a flat tire. At 5:10pm. We walked a mile to retrieve fix-a-flat and ended up spending two nights in Illinois to get it all fixed. But we had no idea that this was a big city and ended up being grateful that there was a motel, as seedy as it was, and spent the night in the red-light district. The next day we got the car fixed and asked to be directed to a different hotel. It was like driving from White Center in Seattle to Redmond and THERE WAS A RED ROBIN THERE and we all lived happily ever after (ok, I can chuckle at that one).
When I hit a deer with my car and totaled it (the car, the deer was fine) soon after we sold the truck, leaving us car-less. (“oooh, and isn’t it ironic…don’t ya think?”) BUT I GOT A VAN IN REPLACEMENT and we lived happily ever after.
When we had a big ice storm and it knocked out power for 12 days and we ended up moving in with our pastor and his family. Two days after we got there I took Ryan to the doctor and found out that he had some fun contagious winter bug that he spent the next week spreading around their house. Ha! We bought 4 cans of Lysol and two large bottles of hand sanitizer to protect everyone (read: my highly illness-prone pastor).We ate lots of double-stuffed Oreos and coffee, which helped everyone make it through alive.
Or when our tractor broke down and I spent a week trying to mow our gigantic yard, 9 inch tall grass and all, with a walk-behind bag mower. HAHA It went like this: walk behind 1/3 yard width, dislodge bag, walk across yard, drop on ever-growing pile, walk back, restart. Hours, days, weeks. And then, Phil finally fixed the mower and spent 30 minutes mowing the rest of the yard. I cried. And then I kissed the tractor. On the lips.
The time my mom came for a visit in February (still quite cold here) and we had a really neat idea to hook up an add-on wood furnace three days before she came. Minutes before the final hook-up, at 2am in a 50 degree house, we found out that the chimney liner was crumbling and therefore unusable (for those of you who don’t understand furnaces and chimneys, like me, it means: no heat for you! At all!). So husband and friends spent the next day in below-zero weather on top of our roof re-lining the chimney.
Or when our clean city friends came back for another visit during a nice, long, hot summer that had bred a lot of flies, and we spent the entire week eating with a neon swatter as a centerpiece. Sort of as a scarecrow for flies, if you will. Mmm.
Or yes, remember not too long ago when my sheep dog protected me from the big-bad farmers who were here to deliver our fuel and had ended up sinking into my lawn?
Okay, this one is from this month: three weeks ago my new “protective dog” scared a skunk RIGHT NEXT TO OUR FRONT DOOR and Phil, who had been sick in bed for two days and had, among other maladies, not been able to smell for its duration, woke at 3:30am to the terrible smell wafting up and throughout the house. His first scent in days, so strong it woke him from a sound sleep and sent him outside with a gun in search of a culprit. (Haha I didn’t say we always think through plans. We can’t be held accountable for decisions made before morning coffee.) As it turns out, the scoundrel sprayed our new barbeque grill…because nothing says yummy like Skunk-scent infused burgers. Ryan kept asking “Mom? Is there a Stunk outside?” Yes. Yes there is certainly a stunk outside.

I know you are laughing now. See, horribly embarrassing in the middle, fodder for stories later on. What would I do if I always had electricity, running water, and working vehicles? What if there were no wild vermin running around to make my life interesting? WHAT WOULD I DO??? Heh heh. Probably? I would eat cookie dough, ice cream, and Starbucks. Just not so ravenously.