Erica Lucke Dean

"Making the world a better place, one book at a time."

just another Sunday in the country

Where to begin?  I suppose the beginning would be the best place.

I woke up to the sound of organs and Prince, as the opening strains of  Let's Go Crazy dragged me from the best dream ever. I lost count as to how many times I hit the snooze button, but when I finally rolled over and opened my eyes, a huge, wet tongue and hot breath was what greeted me. And drool. Did I forget to mention the drool? Where there's a hot, wet tongue, there's always plenty of drool.

Indy waited for me to get out of bed before taking his first morning trip to the yard. This is typical. Only the mommy can take him out. The daddy is not allowed. He may not be capable of speech, but his actions tell the tale. Besides, the daddy (high-tech redneck hubby) was busy cooking up something interesting in the kitchen.

And speaking of that...all I wanted was a bowl of Cap'n Crunch, with Crunch Berries. But instead of lacerating my mouth on my favorite cereal,  I found myself with a steaming plate of stir fried chicken and veggies. And yes, I complained. Because a.) I'm still suffering from PMS and therefore require sugar. And b.) I'd been waiting to open that box of Cap'n Crunch All. Night. Long. Oh, and c.) I don't like chicken thighs...but that's a totally different topic for a different time.

Unfortunately, complaining had to take a backseat to errands, because, little did we know, we had a busy Sunday ahead of us.

You know when you go to the grocery store for one thing, and end up spending hundreds of dollars and walking out without the ONE THING you went in there for?  yeah...that.

We needed a wire for the pig trailer. Just a wire. But as we were just about to head out the door, we discovered one of our indoor chicks had died. This was the second one from that batch in two weeks. This meant we needed to swing by the feed store and discuss dead birds. This was the first of many detours.

Lord of the dance? 

Lord of the dance? 

We bought chicken medicine and set out to buy the wire. But wait, we forgot we needed to get milk. Detour number two...the farm store. This was a most delightful stop along the way. The farm had new baby goats, and I took my time playing with them as they danced on a table for me. Then I just had to stop off and say hi to the cows...and the horse...and the lady behind the counter inside. Forty-five minutes, and two gallons of milk, later we were heading back toward home, chattering on about how we HAD to get some goats next.

But it was a hot day, and I was thirsty. Lucky for us, the Cartecay Vineyards was right on our way home.

And another forty-five minutes, and five wine tastings later, I stumbled out of the winery to the car. Yes, I know...all five of those tastings only adds up to one regular glass of wine, but need I remind you of my champion lightweight status? No, I didn't think so. But after that, I was REALLY thirsty, and singing the wrong lyrics to songs I barely know, so HTRH stopped at the first farmer's market we passed so I could get a soda and snacks.  

Picking veggies is serious business. 

Picking veggies is serious business. 

Thirty minutes and three fried pies, one apple cider donut, a Diet Coke, and a basket of fruits and veggies later, we were back in the car headed toward home.  

We passed a few antique shops with the intention of stopping in, but they were all closed by the time we drove by. Then we made the familiar turn onto the road that leads to home. 

That's when hubby realized we'd forgotten to get the wire.  

We pulled into Mercier's Orchard to turn around. Mercier's has the absolute BEST deli in the area, so of course, we had to stop and have an early dinner...it was about that time, after all. 

An hour later, we pulled into the auto parts store to buy the wire. Which, as it turns out, we didn't actually need to fix the trailer.  

Isn't that always the way? 

Until the next time...I'll be taking the last two pigs to the big freezer in the sky.

Copyright © 2000-2016, Erica Lucke Dean. All rights reserved. Any retranscription or reproduction is prohibited and illegal.