This feeling is meloncholy, I guess. Doug has left for his annual fishing trip (Castaways with Disabilities)and his absence changes the mood of the farm. More quiet, still, anticipating what will happen in the void. So, I'm giving thanks for him while I sit here. Some of the comical scenes that have played out around here flit through my mind. They make me smile.
I have to share something that makes me chuckle, even though it's been a couple weeks.
Early Saturday mornings are a time to perform extra tasks, clean barns and stalls, burn trash and anything we couldn't squeeze in during the week nights. Today, we decided we'd trims the goat hooves. According to Google, it's a simple task. We needed nippers and a rasp. Two people were recommended.
And it was simple until I thought I had tendonitis. Yes, that's right, tendonitis.
The first goat we trimmed was Jack, our sweetest and most docile. He was great, sweet and when he tried to bite me, it was a meek sort of nibble to the top of my hand. I didn't want to insult him but it didn't hurt at all. To boost Jacks ego, I pulled my hand back now and then so he'd think he was really inflicting some discomfort.
The position for goat trimming that worked best for us was to have Doug standing up and between his knees he secured Jack on his butt (yes, I said butt, this is Rated PG). With Jack's bottom on the ground, his front hooves were facing me so I could trim them. It was pretty slick to trim the hooves and my confidence was building, thanks to Jack's passivity. Jill was second from the bottom in the herd so we grabbed her after finishing with Jack.
Holding Jill in the same position we began her pedicure. She was a little more squirley than Jack so I leaned my shoulder on the machine shed that connected to their fenced area. This provided more leverage when she squirmed.
Suddenly, I felt a zinging, zipping electric shock feeling up my left arm. I quickly put the tool in my other hand and shook the left hand like a kitten that had just touched it's foot in frigid water for the first time. Since I peridocially experience numbness in my hands while typing at work it seemed rational that this zinging feeling was the next likely step in carpel tunnel or some sort of tendonitis. Hmph, I thought. Of all times this has to happen.
And then...ZZZIP! ZZZING! Sheesh, there it was again. I put the tool in my other hand and shook the left hand like a Tom cat now. I thought again, "I gotta get that looked at...that was kinda bad." "Man, I never knew I had tendonitis."
I didn't say anything to Doug about it but each time I shook it off, he looked a little more annoyed with me taking a break to shake my hand in that manner.
I started using the nippers with my right hand so I could give the left a break and kneeled on the ground, instead of leaning on the building. I thought if that tendonitis zinged again, it wouldn't surprise me so much and would be less taken aback by it again.
We finished Jill's front hooves and then had to reposition again. Doug leaned his back against the shed to steady himself because Jill was even more anxious about her rear hooves being trimmed.
Out of the blue, Doug yells, "EOWWW!!!" He jumped like someone made contact on his rump with a hot coal. I jumped when he hollered.
I looked up at him and asked, "what the heck was that about?"
He said, "I just got shocked!!!!"
"Wow, what a coincidence," I thought.
I asked how that could be happening. He said the electric fence is right next to that machine shed...the steel machine shed. I bet one of the lines is touching it.
I smiled, then I chuckled, then I laughed.
And I laughed.
He looked at me perturbed. And I said, "Well, I gotta tell ya, the good news is that I thought for a few minutes that I had tendonitis. But I think it's probably gone now and that explains the shocking feeling that I had in my left arm."
I dropped the tool, raised my hands high in the air and said, "I'm totally cured!!!"
We shared a good laugh together as the dirt and sweat rolled off our brows and the goats with their fresh pedicures walked away from the two of us sitting there.
And those are the memories that I treasure, enjoying the rush of a good belly laugh with someone near. He always does the heavy lifting, the toughest jobs, the dirtiest jobs and I play along. What a gift he is to our little corner of the world, out here on The Bean Farm.
Wishing Mr. Bean continued safety as he serves our veterans and works toward making a difference in their lives this week in Minnesota.
Blessings from The Bean Farm