Six months after the fire, I still find myself going to get things I used to have, thinking I have them and later realizing I don’t. The other day, my husband asked me to bring the cooler with an ice pack and medicine for the cows out to the ranch. It was at that moment that we both realized that we don’t have a cooler or an ice pack.
The same type of thing happened to me during the most recent monsoon of rain. I realized I didn’t have any rainwear.
We haven’t received a significant amount of rain in some time. And typically a few sprinkles is nothing to worry about. But this wasn’t just a few sprinkles, this was a downpour.
And it just so happened that I had to go out and move a sick calf. Not wanting the hassle of drying my long mane when I finished, I began looking for makeshift rain gear. I considered wearing my husband’s new cowboy hat, but decided against it. I could just see it blowing off my head and landing in the muddy lot and getting trampled by a herd of wet cows. So I settled for a plastic bag instead.
My kids watched in utter confusion, “Mom, why are you putting a plastic bag on your head?”
“To keep my hair from getting soaked,” I replied.
“But you’re not supposed to put plastic bags on your head,” my kids warned.
“You’re right. But I don’t have it over my face, just my hair, it’s fine,” I assured them.
“Oh, well in that case, can we take a picture?” they asked with great enthusiasm.
“NO! I don’t want…”
Hysterical laughing in the background….