Sunday, November 18, 2007

Sunday! Sunday! No One Sent Us A Questionday!

Thaaaat's right.

Here we are, ready, willing and able to doll out good, sound advice and what?
No one can be bothered to ask.

Not a one.

Well, fine.

You know what that means, don't you? Now I get to ramble.

Iiiiiiii'm a ramblin'. Ramble, amble, amble, amble, abmlin'.

Ok, so after my sister's post yesterday I bet you thought I'd never come back to the internet. Well, here I am. Because, well, I don't know ... I guess because I just don't learn.

So anyway...

Guess what happened to me today! Well, they say a picture is worth a thousand words so I'll just go ahead and babble for a little bit...

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That's my eye.

Or ... what could have been what's left of my eye.

Yes, another tragic farming accident. Farming is ranked in the top 10 for Most Dangerous Jobs, don'cha know. And well deserved is that place.

You know, just this morning, I was getting ready to go out and start feeding the animals and I happened to glance down at my leg while I was putting my pants on. Black and blue. Everywhere. I had no less than 8 black an blue marks on one half of one leg. Eight! Where do they come from? Darned if I know. It would seem that I am always battering myself about.

A little while ago, hubby suggested in a very concerned voice that I might want to get all this black and bluedness checked out by a doctor. I think he was worried about what people might think when, say, I am walking about in a short sleeved top and look like I was just beaten in a back alley. So, when I had my regular tune up with the doctor, I had him check into it. As it turns out, I have Chronic Clumsy. I just happen to be one of those people that ... bruise. Like a fine, ripe apple I am.

So anyway, I was feeding the animals this morning and I had to lean way in under the roof part of the one feeder to put the grain in for this certain pack of evil goats. I leaned down and started to pour the grain into the trough and they all started swarming like they usually do.

Let me tell you, piranhas have nothing on goats when it comes to feeding frenzies.

Well, the long and short of it is that one of the goats stuck me in the eyeball with the tip of her horn.

In my eye.

A goat horn.

In my eye.

"OW!" said I. Because it hurt like a mother.

So now I am going to be forced to get some crazy make up to match my other eye to this one and spike my hair for work tomorrow because I am the warrior. Shootin' at the walls of heartache.

Bang. Bang.

I can't believe I got gored in the eye.

You know, with getting my eye almost taken out, slogging around doing farmwork, freezing my patootie off every winter, one might ask "Crazy Woman, why do you do this?"

Because, really, some days it is just a big ol' pain in the butt. As well as a pain in many other places.

Like today it happens to be a pain in the eye.

But, whatever the case, I could most indeedily lead a much easier life than this. So why, then, don't I?

I am going to blame Robert Frost.

Robert Frost is probably my most favorite poet. (Ok, him and Billy Collins.) I would guess that among some literary circles, saying Robert Frost is your favorite poet would be akin to saying McDonald's is your favorite restaurant. I mean, he's the guy that shows up in the fourth grade reader, introducing the masses to Poetry. He is like the grilled cheese sandwich of poetry - unassuming, comforting and familiar. Everyone knows Robert Frost.

But I love Robert Frost.

I love his talk of apples and stone walls and snow and bowed birches and cords of maple and yellow woods. I love all the beautiful, sad and nostalgic things they are.

And I have since the fourth grade. Since "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening".

And this is why I lug bales of hay ...

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... and carry water buckets ...

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... and shovel poop ...

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... and wear three layers of clothes inside ...

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... and shear goats ...

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... and put up miles and miles of fence ...

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... and black and blue myself ...

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... and all the other stuff that seems so hard some days.

So I can go outside on a day like today and stop by my snowy woods.

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For all the difficulty, challenge, sacrifices and everything else ... in the end it's worth it.

So, a day that started out with my eyeball almost getting run through on a goat horn turned out not so bad after all.

Dust of Snow
by: Robert Frost

The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree

Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued.

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This post was brought you by NaBloPoMo and Perrier.


Jozet at Halushki said...

You are ready for Pamplona.

And those photos are beautiful.

If the Hershey Zoo looked that beautiful in the snow, I wouldn't have complained half as much.

Really, those are lovely.

I'm actually feeling - dare I say it - Christmasy!

D.B. Echo said...

Looks like you got a little more snow than Nanticoke. Though we are totally coated!

Your eye looks so goth! So what now? Eye protection around the goats?

Theresa said...

I just came in from your sister's blog. Yep, you're ready for Pamplona now (I should know, because I live there). Those pictures are really nice, but that's too cold for me.

anne said...

sis - Pamplona indeed. I've already been run over by the horses to so I think I have all the pre-Pamplona training points covered.

And, I have to confess, I started to get my Christmas cd's out yesterday.

d.b. - I don't know what the final tally in inches is but it has to be in the 6 -8 range.

And I'm thinking full body armor. Or at least pay more attention to what I'm doing.

Theresa - Welcome! And Pamplona! You live there! How wonderful is that! Wonderful and warm, I bet.

thailandchani said...

Those photos are absolutely beautiful!

Julie Pippert said...

Sorry about the eye and lack of mail. I'd look desperate if I sent in another question. ;)

But oh those photos.

Sigh. Winter. I guess it's better to have loved and lost, right.

Beautiful photos.

Using My Words

D.B. Echo said...

Final tally? It's still snowing here at 9:42 on Monday morning!

Pocklock said...

Wow. Those photos are beautiful. Well, except the one of your eye. Eesh.

Blog Antagonist said... that YOUR house? Swoon. Between you and Slouching Mom, I am feeling very, very homesick. It was 72 degrees here today. SIGH.

kelly said...

You are not the only one who remembers "Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening" from 4th grade. I can still recite it too, 30-some years later. One of my favorites too.

Sigh. Love the snowy pictures. I miss snow.

Gort said...

Beautiful Pictures. I followed the comment link from DB, glad I did.

D.B. Echo said...

I just saw the last photo again, and it felt like I was seeing it for the first time. Stunning. The level of detail is incredible.