I was all set to write my very first post for Catholic Exchange. And by “all set to write” I of course mean “all set to stare at the computer and will some meaningful words to appear since I have no ideas. Or too many ideas. I’m not sure which.”
But then it happened.
Well, before it happened, this happened….
“Mom, I can’t get dressed because all my pants are wet.”
“Yeah, mine too.”
It’s a funny thing when you put all your clean pants into the dirty laundry instead of putting them away. And that is that your mother will then wash them. And you know how there is no dryer and your wet pants will have to hang on the line, all unwearable and stuff? Yeah, that’s the thing that should dissuade you from putting your clean pants into the dirty hamper. Should, but doesn’t.
And then…then it happened. The real ‘it’.
My oldest daughter looked at the thermometer through the living room window.
“It’s already 57 degrees out!”
On the north side of our house. IN THE SHADE.
If you have never lived through a Michigan winter, the words “fifty-seven” and “degrees” being used in the same sentence, especially during the first week of March, are like…like when you put your hand into the pocket of a jacket you haven’t used in a long time and find money, but instead of a $5 bill it’s, like, a $100 bill. $100! I just found $100! It was definitely $100 bill weather.
So I did what any normal person would do. I told my facebook friends all about it.
And then we all scurried outside. But just for a bit, of course. I have a post to write!
Hubby is pruning the apple trees in the back. The goats are eating the chicken food. And drinking their water. Can’t I please do something about it?
Now the 2 year old is chasing a chicken into a dense igloo of wild grapevines. Can I rescue her from certain demise? And help the baby too, while I’m at it?
Apparently it’s so “hot” that the children require popsicles. Which is fine, but I also encourage them to consider removing their winter coats.
Okay, almost time to go inside and WRITE!
“Honey, can you drag those branches around back to the pile? Just real quick?”
“Mommy, I need a drink.”
“Hey, later we should clean out the goats’ pen. And maybe also stake out the new garden.”
“If you’ll hold her head, I can just trim her hooves right now.”
“Is it summer? Can I put on shorts????”
Because it was $100 bill weather, friends. That is what happens when you’ve endured week after week of $0.12 in coins weather. Or worse. Weather days that make you owe money. Yeah, we’ve had a couple of those, too.
Yep, on the first $100 bill weather day of the year, you do more outside than you will do on every other day of the year combined. And when you get any ideas of slipping inside to “just write a quick post”, something cute or interesting or hilarious or dangerous will happen and it will completely distract you. Like a goat jumping into, and then out of, a wheelbarrow, for example. Which we can all agree is every one of those things.
And that is why I’ve not managed to say anything profound or life-altering. Why my day was filled with every non-writing activity I could think of. Why I frittered away my afternoon in the sun and the wind and I liked it. It was the $100 bill weather. And this little one, with her eager disposition and sweet smile, who hollered out “I’m a strong farmer girl!”