Does your life ever feel like a soap opera? Luckily, I’m not having that issue since life is really quite good here on the ranch. However, lately, there have been several incidents that remind me of television shows.
The first occurred when I scheduled a visit in another town to a new customer. I try to “clean up” when I call on boutiques and had done so this particular morning, yet, my attire didn’t seem to fit with “the rest of the story”. Since the puppy needed his shots and the vet was in the same town as my client, my husband and I loaded into the dirty pickup to make the trip. The puppy doesn’t yet enjoy riding, so we also brought one of the older dogs to keep him company. Picture two adult people sitting in the front of the cab, one dressed up and laden with jewelry, the other in typical “been out in the pasture” clothes. Add to that two dogs in the back seat beside a large nitrogen tank (I won’t tell you what that holds.). Hear one of the dogs in the back seat howling because he doesn’t want to go with us. But let’s don’t stop there, the pickup is pulling a large cube cart because one of the lease pastures filled with hungry cows is near where we are going. By the time we get close to our destination, the transmission on the pickup has begun to slip and as I climb out at my customer’s with all my jewelry, the pickup drives on to the vet. That’s when I see that the wheel is falling off the cube cart. Thanks goodness for cell phones as a quick call to my husband helps avoid disaster as the wheel does fall off. My thought was that we looked just like “The Clampets” who came to town. Thinking a good deep breath can cure almost anything, I took one and went into the boutique trying not to appear rattled. After a pleasant time with my customer, I checked on our status to see if I needed to hitch hike back to the ranch. Eventually, our foreman arrived, loaded the ailing cart onto a trailer behind a better pickup and we were left with the still crying puppy, the big dog, the malfunctioning transmission and the required trip to the lease pasture without the needed cubes. I think I now know why Jed Clampet didn’t have a wife.
In the evenings, we reenact another TV series, The Waltons. While we don’t have a large group of children, we DO have to say goodnight to the little animals. Four dogs, goodnight Dixie, goodnight Cheyenne, goodnight Frosty, goodnight Bruno. Then to the cats . . . Well, you get the picture. I guess Bruno, who is pictured would be our version of John Boy.
I don’t recall the name of the other TV show that seemed appropriate yesterday. As I was out climbing up and down the ladder to wash the windows I couldn’t help but think about Mrs. Jefferson before she made the big time. As I finished the windows I wished that I, too, could “Move On Up” to the east side.
Who knows what TV series will show up next. In past years we’ve had all the CSI drama with necropsies of cows and determination of causative factors. Perhaps we should turn off the TV and just hope for the best.