If I had a fortune cookie for this particular day, it would have said "You will take the best bath of your life. Afterwards, still glowing, you will go outside to get your sweater and be covered in a cloud of pig poo. This will propel you into a realm of pissed that you never thought your gambit of emotions could experience. Your lucky numbers for today: None. You're going to get covered in powdered poo. Sorry."
In May of 2010, hubby and I had gone to visit his parents' house. Out in the middle of the country and surrounded by fields for farming, their house is quiet and peaceful. On this particular day, my stepson was
doing his homework at the kitchen table and my body really started to ache. So, I went up to the parents' bathroom, upstairs. Newly remodeled, their
bathroom was beautiful - all sandstone tile and big mirrors. AND a
built-for-two garden tub with jets.
In the vanity, I found some bubble
bath and I poured some in as the bath filled and I patiently waited while the tub filled up.
I slid my aching body into the hot water and bubbles and I was in heaven. At some point, I think Hubby even came in and
asked me how I was doing. I was so relaxed and feeling so good from the
water, I think I mumbled, "Hold all my calls. I'm never coming out."
Eventually, my brain came back into reality land a bit and I realized that I was sweating and that it may be time to get out of the tub. So, I did. The process of
drying off and getting clothes on was apparently a little much for my
blood pressure at the time because my heart was pounding in my ears. I
looked at my bra that I'm going to put back on and I thought, "There is no way that is happening. I'm too relaxed and putting that on is gonna be a lot of effort. Plus,
I don't want to be strapped into that torture device, right now." I dressed and
walked down the stairs to the kitchen, dopey and happy. I felt like the world was perfect. I was relaxed and calm. It was a little chilly
downstairs, so I decided to go out to my car and get my sweater.
I went outside and noticed that the farmers were spreading stuff on the fields, but it
didn't really register in my brain as something I should pay attention to. People spread stuff on fields all the time, here. I walked out to my car, grabbed my sweater from the back set,
put it on and then I looked up and saw this gray cloud rolling my
direction. Still, it didn't dawn on me. And, even if it had, that
cloud was so big, there was no way I was going to be able to avoid it. I
just stood there, hot water-dopey, and watched that cloud roll towards me like a movie. I had just enough time to wonder, "What the . . . " and
that's when it hit me. And it smelled worse than anything I'd smelled, before.
At that point, I realized what has
happened. They were spreading pig poo from the c.a.f.o. (contained animal feeding operation) on the field and I
had just gotten hit with a cloud of flying poo-dirt that the spreader kicked
up. This proceeded to send me flying off the handle into a realm of
pissed that I never could have dreamed existed within my gambit of
emotions. And I stayed outside for a minute, fuming, 'cause my stepson was
downstairs and my mind is very inventive with the English language when
I get mad. I stayed outside and I calmed down for a minute, enough that I
wouldn't explode into new, inventive profanities when I went back inside
After a bit, I went into the house and Hubby could tell right away from my face that
something was amiss. He asked me what happened. "I. Just. Got.
Covered. In. A. Cloud. Of. Pig. Poo."
smell it on you?"
"I was in the middle of it. I don't know. Can YOU
smell it on me?"
Hubby proceeded to walk over, sniff me, then immediately
stumbled back 3 paces, clutching his face. He suggested, "Why don't you
go take a shower?"
"And put on poo-covered clothes when I get out all
clean? I don't think so."
"Here," he says. "I brought a change of
clothes. You can put these on." And he handed me a pair of his pants and a beaten up tee shirt.
I took a shower and I put on Hubby's clothes. And, when my in-laws got home, I was still standing
there, hair wet and still mad. Hubby told them all about what happened. My mom-in-law patted my shoulder and tried to reassure me by saying,
"Oh, we're sure it was mostly dirt. . . "
Some days, my dears, the poo's going to hit you, whether you're ready for it or not. Really? It's best to find the humor in it and learn to laugh at the situation. I hope you enjoyed this tale.
And please remember that we are all visionaries. We just to figure out where we excel.
Love to All,
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