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Copyright 2011 Rocky Mountain Rider. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Reproduction of any editorial material, artwork and photos is strictly forbidden without express written permission of the publisher. For information about reprint rights, please contact the editor; editor@rockymountainrider.com.

 

Being Prepared

By Sandy Lemmon, Crawford , NE

 

June 2011 issue

    

 

I woke about three to an unusual sound,

A pitter-patter over my head.

I went to the door, turned on the light,

It’s raining! I went back to bed.

 

I got up at six and let the dogs out,

Funny, they didn’t want to stay—

They hurried back in, covered with mud,

Wet, like they’d been out all day.

 

I looked at the mud tracks crossin’ my floor,

And shook my head in dismay—

Then grinned and imagined the pasture with grass,

Muddy floors were a small price to pay.

 

I went out of the house a little past eight

To load cake and hook on to hay,

I just wore my shoes, I couldn’t find my boots,

It was just a light rain anyway.

 

I went to the barn and into the grainery,

And looked at the mess with surprise,

The floor was flooded, all feed sacks were soaked,

I didn’t know we had roof holes that size!

 

The rain drip-dropped in, I ‘spose seams had opened

From all the dry days that we’d had—

Well, we’d patch the roof later and save what was dry,

Really, it wasn’t that bad.

 

Back to the pickup, hooked to the hay wagon,

Loaded and ready to go—

Stepped on the gas and sashayed sideways,

Maybe I better try low.

 

Out to the feed ground, the cows not lookin’ cheerful,

Be happy, I’m bringing you hay—

I stepped out to start pitching and sunk in to my ankle,

That honestly didn’t make my day!

 

I slowly bent down and pulled out my shoe,

And carefully slipped it back on—

Then slogged through the mud and threw off the hay,

Quickly—my patience was gone.

Soaking and dripping, I locked in the hub,

Then climbed back in the truck,

Pulled it in four-wheel and put it in low,

I wasn’t trustin’ to luck!

 

I checked on the heavies and, of course, we had calves,

I shunted them into the shed,

And one old biddy who said, “Hands off my baby!”

Got hit with a broom on the head.

 

I slogged through the day reminding myself

Of how badly we needed this rain—

Then slogged to the lot and out to the shed,

To check on the heavies again.

 

Now everything’s safe for the night, I’m hopin’,

And I’m smarter, I tell you the truth—

The first chance I had, I searched the whole house,

And tomorrow I’m wearin’ my boots!

 

Copyright 2011 Rocky Mountain Rider. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Reproduction of any editorial material, artwork and photos is strictly forbidden without express written permission of the publisher. For information about reprint rights, please contact the editor; editor@rockymountainrider.com.

 

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