A Morning to Remember


There was feed in the back of the station wagon from yesterday, so Emery was early at the task of taking it to the barns for me. I put on last nights chore clothes that had a multitude of tiny hoof prints over them from muddy kid feet jumping all over me. I grabbed the closest mud boots which happened to be Emery's, they work for short periods of time as long as I have thick wool socks on, which I did, but still they resemble clown shoes on me. None of this mattered since I was just heading to the barn to do chores. I hadn't even combed my hair, but the goats sure don't seem to care about that. I stood at the gate to the milk house, leaning on the gate, looking out over the pasture, spying tiny droplets of rain hanging on the trees like fine crystals, catching the vibrant green of the new leaves. The woods to the south, shrouded in thick fog. The dark wet bark of the trees standing out against the misted world. You could imagine so many stories taking place in such an enchanted looking woods. I watched the world around me for the longest time, thinking, how perfect the morning.
Milking chores done, I headed back to the house, milk bucket lightly swinging beside me, my big clod hopper boots making a trail in the soft wet grass. I didn't have a care in the world, well that is until I went to open the back door. Had the wetness swelled it tight ? I pushed on it, kicked the bottom a bit....nothing, wouldn't budge. It was locked ! I think I sighed a bit of frustration at Emery for locking it by accident, but headed around to the front, messing with the chain on the gate that is complicated at best, but I had a milk bucket in one hand so it was a tad bit more complicated. Oh no ! He had locked the front door too ! Emery is usually not out back in the morning but taking the feed out to the barns must have made him feel rushed. Usually I have my cell phone in my pocket, but no, not this morning so I couldn't even call him. I checked all the windows to see if one happened to be unlocked. They were all locked. I had nothing left to do but to walk down our road to Melanie's house, looking a bit like Mr. Moulterd from the British Comedy, "Are You Being Served ? Again". Muddy pants, muddy hooded sweatshirt on, huge black mud boots on my feet, hair sticking out everywhere, (picture bed head) . I was sure the police would drive up and ask me where I was heading. This is a small town and everyone knows everyone, but I was not recognizable. It was just 8 am, so there were lots of cars on the road much to my embarrassment. I knocked on Melanie's door and she just out and out laughed.
They keep a key to our house, but Casi had it and he was at work. By this time I told Melanie to call her father, and tell him he locked me out. She called but handed me the phone. She wasn't going to tell him, I had to. I was ticked off, not angry but a bit past annoyed. He was going to be right home and he was profusely apologetic on the phone. Melanie said for me to wait at her house and dad could pick me up on his way by. He works about 3 miles from home. She said, in a very sweet tone, " mom, you don't want to walk home do you?" I said I needed to, needed time to get un- ticked off. So I marched down the road, well aware of how I appeared to those driving by. I was so happy none of our neighbors were outside. By the time I had walked past the 6 houses that separate Melanie's house and our house, I was fine. Thinking it could have happened the other way around. Mistakes get made. I stood at the front door waiting for Emery and saw him come around the corner, he looked rather sheepish. He smiled, and so did I. He apologized at least 5 times and I just said, "awww its ok". He unlocked the door, gave me a kiss and I went straight to the back door, just to see if he had really locked it, and he had. I got the milk pail off the hook outside the barn door, filled the baby goats bottles with it, it had been out a while now so didn't bother saving any for us. Did the rest of my chores and thought, what a small thing this all was in the great scheme of life. We will laugh about it tonight and remember it for years to come and maybe I will hide a key someplace !

Comments

Godyssey said…
The picture that you painted of yourself locked out, and walking to and fro was actually quite funny.

It reminded me of getting locked out myself a few years ago. You know how the story goes...step out to get the paper and the door slams shut behind you? Well, getting back in, involved me having to run 5 minutes to my apartment complexes office and sitting in the lobby for 2 hours waiting for a locksmith.

It was a very cold winter day and I was in my barefeet and wearing a bathrobe. You could only imagine the stares that, that elicits. The whole situation was so surreal that I couldn't help but laugh at myself.

Stuff happens. And like you said, in the whole scheme of things, not a big deal. At times like those, I often think that the universe has quite a sense of humor.
I think we all have had at least one of those lock-outs--not so humorous at the time, but rather funny in retrospect. And--we never seem to be dressed for the "occasion." I found myself locked out in S. Lancaster years ago after taking the children to school. I always opened the small laundry room window first thing to let the cats go in and out, and after circling the house for a better way in, decided it was the window or nothing. Had to find a bucket or something to climb on and get my leg over the sill--then hung there wondering if I would be able to get in--or back out.
I agree with your plan for stomping back home rather than accepting a ride--walking or working hard for a bit is a great defuser!

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