Ruffled Feathers and Spilled Milk

Farming with ducks and dairy goats, chickens and children.

City People Have All The Fun.

Posted on | August 24, 2011 | No Comments

Apparently, there was an earthquake.  Not the scary kind of earthquake that sends people running screaming into the streets.  Just the kind that makes people look up and say, “Is that an earthquake?”  Or in most of my friends’ houses, “Will you kids stop jumping around up there??!!!!”

It was the kind of earthquake that hasn’t been felt around here since the 1890’s.  Or so They say.  I don’t know how They know there was an earthquake here in the 1890’s.  If you asked Them, They would probably say there are records or studies or data or something like that.  Which is what They always say.  And we always take Their word for it.  Huh.

Anyway, it would have been fun to tell my grandkids one day that I remember the earthquake.  My grandkids wouldn’t have to take Their word for it.  I could tell them exactly when it hit and what it felt like and what I was doing when it happened.

Only I don’t know when it hit.  Or what it felt like.  Because I was fixing the roof on the barn when it happened.  And I guess you have to be in a house surrounded by knick-knacks or working in office among cubicles and countertops to know when there’s an earthquake.  Then there’s some rattling and shaking and stuff can fall over or off the walls or… well, I don’t know what.  Because, like I said, I was on the barn roof.

There were no picture frames to shake.  Or post it notes to fall.  Or lamps and tables to wobble.  Just chickens and goats and ponies and ducks, all staring up at me and Big as we cleared off leaf debris and patched holes in the roof with tarp.  Chickens and goats and ponies and ducks don’t wobble or fall.  They just supervise.

It is worth mentioning that Julia had been bellowing all day long in the barn yard.  When we went inside for iced tea and heard there had been an earthquake, I got excited.  Perhaps Julia was trying to warn us about the earthquake!  A goat that can predict natural disasters would be worth telling your grandkids about.  But when we went back out to add the branches we had cleared off the roof to the brush pile, she was busy trying to let Calico Jack into the ladies’ pen.  Which means she was just in heat.  Nobody’s grandkids care about that.

So only the city people got to experience a nice, safe earthquake where nobody got hurt.  Now they will be able to tell their grandkids about it.  Us country folk were probably all outside preparing for the hurricane that’s coming this weekend.  You know roof checking, ditch clearing, tarp tying, generator testing, grain buying, blah, blah, blah.

That’s right.  Earthquake.  Hurricane.  Goats in heat.  End of times, people.  End of times.

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