GRAVETTE — I went to bed last night thinking about the things I had accomplished during the day and I was pretty happy about the count. I was proud, you know the feeling. Done plenty and done right makes a man right proud, even if I do say so myself. I didn’t burden my close relative with my prideful feeling, as she can always out count me and that sorta bursts my bubble. Anyhow, I was sure feeling like all was right with my section of the world.
Sure, you know if you walk behind a horse you might get kicked in the teeth and we have grown up knowing it is just not proper to get pumped up with pride. The Book tells us to behave and not to get high on ourselves or our work, just like my Sainted Mother repeated. Silly old me, seems I walked behind that kicking horse!
I was up early, turned up the heat, pushed the button on the coffeemaker and went in to wash up. No water, not even a drizzle. Then to the kitchen and the same results from that faucet convinced me that the well was not delivering. Now I was getting edgy.Water seems to be extremely important the very second there is none!
The pump was not making any attempts and I know little about fixing a submergible so back to the telephone I ran. I hate to call so dang early but I want to be first in line if my problem concerns water. He answered with a muffled voice I suspect was two blankets down and asked me to repeat my name twice.
My close relative was up and had flushed the stool. I heard her mumble and then squall out my name. My name is synonymous with help, SOS, come here and several other terms of need. I squared my shoulders and headed for the sound. She met me in the hall and I related the call and how long he figured it would be before he could make it out to the farm.
Now the wait began. Why it began is a mystery to me. We sat at the kitchen table and looked out the window, waiting on a glint off a truck windshield or dust from speeding tires or just anything to say he, the well digger, was on the way. I had chores to do and she didn’t even bother to get her clothes on, just sat and waited in her big fuzzy robe. I can tell you right now, no water shouldn’t keep a close relative from brushing her hair!
I finally got myself out to the barn. All the water tanks were still about full and after feeding the butcher steer and old Snip I hopped in the truck to make a few pastures.
It is my opinion, and everyone has one, waiting is a one person job. There is not much a second feller can do to help the one that holds the job. I guess he can watch the job holder, pour him or her some more coffee, suggest things to make the time pass a little faster. Suggestions like brushing hair, getting dressed and so forth, but that is a very iffy deal too. That kicking horse could get you twice!
My wonderful cell phone rang, I answered and was informed I’d better not go anywhere and leave her to do the waiting all alone! OK, and how was your day? Mine was like buying an expensive bull that I already owned and finding out that all his calves were gonna be white!
-Bill
Bill is a pen name used by the Gravette author of this weekly column.
Opinion, Pages 4 on 03/24/2010