I am SOOOOOO close to being done with these gol-durned revisions. So, naturally, I am procrastinating.
At the homestead today, my 82 year old mother says to me:
Your father can’t find the sheep. Can you go down to the creek and look for them? He can’t go down there by himself.
Me: Sure.
And off I trot, only usually if the sheep are down at the creek, you can see at least one of them and there are no sheep visible. So instead of walking down to the creek, I walked the complete opposite direction to the neighbor’s field where for the last 30 years our sheep have also grazed. Sure enough, there they are. Happily eating spring grass. I go back to the house and give the good news to my mother who then says:
Can you go tell your father?
Me: Sure!
Off I go to find my father. Only he’s nowhere to be seen. So I go back to the house and say to my mother:
Where’s the last time you saw Dad?
My Mom: He’s probably down at the creek
Me: (to self) But you said he couldn’t make it down there!
My Mom: Can you go down there and find him? (By the way, it’s obvious my mother thinks my father has fallen in the creek or died of a rattlesnake bite, even though there are very very few rattlesnakes around here. It’s like the time years ago when she gave me a weird look when I got home but didn’t say anything at all. My cat comes out to say hello to me and she says, Oh! He’s alive! And I say, What? Why wouldn’t he be? And she says, I saw a hawk flying off with a large animal and I thought it had your cat. So, it’s obvious that to my mom, my father has been carried off by a metaphorical hawk.)
Me: Sure.
And off I go. Only not all the way because I quickly realized how silly that would be. I went around to the front of the house and there’s my dad, walking up the driveway with the mail. (It’s a looooong driveway with trees and a 90 deg turn. The bottom part of the driveway parallels the neighbor’s field where our not lost sheep were grazing. So dad had found the sheep on his way to get the mail.
That was my day. In between revisions.
