In a Sow’s Ear 8-16-10 |

In a Sow’s Ear 8-16-10

In digging through old files I came across a list of what I have to think were tongue-in-cheek resolutions. I can’t remember making any such pledges. Was I serious? Nah, I could not possibly have meant to carry out the promises. I must have been writing fiction.

As a Fiction Writer, I resolved:

… To get the feeding done every day before the wind comes up. (Since this is prime wind-farm territory, I’d have to feed in the 4 a.m. dark to beat the wind).

… To not to step in any posies. (I don’t know why I should have to resolve to refrain from that activity. I certainly never step in the stuff on purpose.)

… To invite six P.E.T.A. and six vegetarians to a food fight. (The Vegetarians to bring rotten tomatoes; the P.E.T.A.s to bring a friendly wolf and a sociable grizzly).

… To keep the propane-fueled stock-tank heater going in winter even in high wind, rain and snow. (I’ve beat that one. The danged wind kept blowing out the flame. Now I merely keep a pick-axe ready. The exercise is a healthful aerobic activity. I’m forwarding a recommendation to the White House).

… To stop Sadie the Dog from herding the neighbors’ horses into a tight bunch as if they’re a group of long-legged sheep. (Sadie the Dog has gone to that Big Kennel in the Sky. Now, I am owned by Bailout, the Dog. She is of heeler persuasion. Bailout does not round up. She chases. Which means neighbor horses no longer hang on the dividing fence.)

… To remember my ear muffs on cold windy days. (This is a must-do task as it’s almost impossible to get chores done with both hands clapped to one’s ears).

… To collect all the bale string hanging on the Powder River corral panels before they form themselves into landscape art work. (Spring and fall – at least. Pull them off, make bundles, stuff in plastic lawn-leaf bags, take to dumpster or burn barrel, depending …)

… To clean out the clutter in my pickup bed, pickup cab, carport, file cabinets, desk, clothes closets … (Who am I kidding? My closets have clothing that has become fossilized; my desk is a mystery of meaningful piles, the carport has never had an actual car or pickup parked there, the cab and bed of the pickup carry tools and items of immense importance, so don’t nag).

… To finally stamp and mail last year’s Christmas cards. (Well, hey, Christmas is just around the corner, I’ll wait.)

… To act my age. (Naah. Why change now. I’m going straight from birth to immaturity.)

… To change my attitude. (See previous statement above.)

… To forgive my enemies. (Naah … I plan to outlive ’em.)

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