You know those days when you lose your sheep…
…but you don’t know it until your neighbor calls to say they are in his yard but he can’t help you because he’s going to the dentist and then you have to walk them home through the fields with a two year old on your shoulders a bucket of corn in your hand while cajoling your four year old the whole way and then when you’re almost home the two year old grabs the electric fence while you are holding her other hand, which is an effective way to test the fencer but a really bad idea and then when you get all the way home you find out that your most wonderful dog has eaten a gigantic pile of dog food out of the bin while you were gone because some innocent looking girl… 
… left the pantry door open and the lid off the dog’s food and after puking the dog and monitoring her water all day and listing to the request of “Dammit Mom I need some ketchup please.” and loading sheep to take to the butcher in the dark, your husband asks if you want some help putting the girls to bed and the combination of the day and the rampant hormones and the lack of sleep from the night before sends you off into something that’s like hysterical laughter but maybe is just hysterics, you know those days?
Yeah, that’s the kind of day I had.
I’d like to leave you for the night with words of wisdom from Great Big Sea, “…it’s a double edged knife but there’s always tomorrow…”
Cheers to tomorrow, I’m going to bed!
Behind the Willows 
Does knowing you can make it into a story help you laugh about the day? (Otherwise one might just take it out on a spouse, cuz what else is there to do!)
A certain someone who was hunting on the north end of our pasture forgot to close the outer gate and it’s possible the relief of being able to write a story about the day didn’t save him from hearing how I felt about things.
I love your posts– it’s life… and all you can do is laugh and write–if you hadn’t had that day–you wouldn’t have this wonderful story! These are the stories your great-grand kids will love! I spent years writing down the stories my Mom told of growing up in the “dirty (dust bowl) 30s” on the prairie of South Dakota–now that she died just a month ago yesterday–I treasure those stories. Just think–YOU MADE HISTORY yesterday!
I have to say it is unique. What happens when a 2yr old hand touches an electric fence–“Tazed”?
Was she ok?
alg
That’s so great you took the time to write down your moms stories I’m sure you do treasure them and so will the rest of the family!
When Clara touched the fenced she was holding my hand and I unfortunately was holding a metal gate with the other hand, we were well grounded! Aside form a lot of yelling she was fine but she wasn’t going to let me put her down again!