"Feathers were flying in the air like glitter...."
Good morning friends, it seems here in Missouri we're finally coming out of the deep freeze. The temps are rising, and the snow is finally starting to melt off. I think we're all ready for a little break in all the extra chores that extreme winter weather brings. If you own livestock you'll instantly relate to this story.
You know that owning livestock is a chore during the winter, and there really are no days off. You face extreme temps, and you're hurrying around to make sure there's extra hay, extra bedding, and everything has fresh water.... Oh winter feeding, how you always produce the best comedy sessions in my option.
It was -3 degrees with a wicked windchill on this fine particular morning, and to put it nicely our morning had just went to crap. We were hurrying around to pitch hay, and check water. You know those fine pieces of equipment also known as water faucets? Yeah, they were frozen solid, and of course they were being made out of metal.Now these little inventions are great when they work correctly, but can be unpredictable in extreme temperatures even with a heat lamp on them.
Now ladies, I'm perfectly fine with carrying a few buckets, but when you get a man involved it seems it's all about the challenge if they can get it "fixed" ...You know what I'm talking about don't you?
So here my dad was, all bundled up in the warm down jacket, gloves, scotch cap, and carrying a blow torch. I mean for those big jobs why wouldn't you just get a blow torch? I'm kinda rolling my eyes, but I know it works so I went on my merry way. Before I go on remember I don't mind carrying buckets... and then...I heard the blow torch fire up, but I had already started filling up buckets. Ladies, I know you understand the 'Why' I had already started filling up buckets. (We don't want to hurt a man's pride, but the chores must be done regardless if he can conquer the challenge at hand)
Remember that down jacket? Not the good kind, this was the cheap chore coats you get from the feed store. The really bulky fluffy, what kind of material is that even made out of kind. Well, apparently blow torches, and down jackets don't mix. A burst of flames had commenced, and now all the sudden my dad is hitting himself, jumping around like a Bantee rooster, hollering, saying a few cuss words, and honestly I didn't know my father could break dance like that. I mean Jagger would be jealous.
Before I go on about this story, maybe I should include "Do not try this at home" because it seems we live in a society where everyone is eating Tide Pod's, and I really don't wanna get sued. So please, "Do not try this at home"
So here we were in our horse barn, my dad is jumping around, using his gloves, and putting out this fire. The practical thing to do would've been stop, drop and roll, but being a man full of pride he just decided to stand there and smack himself around a little longer, jump around, hit himself some more, and cuss and holler until the flames were put out. It was quite the comedy show.
He DID however get the water thawed out, but needless to say all I could smell was the aroma of burnt plastic light material, and was about to gag. I turned around to make sure he had this under control, and all I could see were feathers flying through the air like glitter. It was a beautiful sight actually, they almost sparkled in air, and were floating everywhere. He was cussing, and stomping around, and every step he made another pretty PUFF of these delicate little down feathers surrounded him. Except for the smell, it was almost like he had his own fog machine of feathers that followed him around. It was almost magical as the snow was sparking too!
Chores were finished, water was thawed, my dad smelled terrible, but the coat was done for and it was time to head to the house to rest for the evening.
Being a man do you think he threw that coat out? No. "It still might have some life left" he said, and I've been sweeping the floor up of feathers all morning I just now picked one out of my hair...Those little tiny delicate ones....flying around like glitter.
I'm sure if you're a daughter, sister, or wife to these kind of men you'll relate, or even if you own livestock you'll know what we all put ourselves through to make sure they're taken care of. I hope you all giggled as much as I have about the case of the flying feathers, and how the blow torch left its mark...literally.
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Stay warm out there friends,