Horrible Bosses

   Yesterday, I woke my 15-year-old up at nine o: clock am and asked him to get dressed and help his dad fix the horses' broken fences. Well, if you know 15 year olds at all you know that nine o: clock is excessively too early to wake one up. He complained and complained, but I got him to get dressed by offering my services in fence fixing also.

   We headed down to the barn where my husband was cleaning out the corral with a York rake and proceeded to finish cleaning out the horses' stalls. Paul (my husband) was so happy to have our help that when we were done with the stalls he put us to work loading firewood into the bucket on the tractor so he could drive it up to the house. Every time he disappeared with the tractor, Harry and I would just groan about the manual labor we were doing.

   My husband is a work horse. He never stops going, or fixing things, he believes that if there is work to be done that it all has to be done that day. Harry and I on the other hand believe that one job a day is enough and the weekend is for relaxing. So in essence, we did a whole lot of grumbling.

   After the wood was done, we finally got around to fixing the many fences in the field. This means you have to carry the planks of wood up the hill to wherever one is broken. The planks are not light and are extremely awkward to carry with their length. While we were getting one in place, Paul noticed a gravel truck was pulling in down by the barn to drop a load off. He told Harry and I to get the last nail in and bring the stuff down. Not a smart move on his part. We could not get that nail into the wood. It must have taken us about fifteen minutes to hammer the one silly nail and in that time Paul had the gravel truck go into the corral, dump the load and sent the truck on its merry way.

   Harry and I were heading back to the house when we heard Paul shout out to us. "Hey, where are you two going?"

   We laughed and laughed because we thought it was quitting time. Little did we know, Paul wanted us to do more fences and then cut down the entire section of Sumach trees and have us drag it down to the barn. We are under the assumption that he was trying to kill us with labor. Thank God, he is cute and lovable.

   Today is cooking day, so I get out of outside work. Yay!