Cold

Ask me about my Monday morning.

I woke up to a cat (Big old Fat stinky face Machers who is shocking agile for his 13 years) running laps around our bed. The routine he likes best involves him jumping on my side at the pillow, then makes a mad dash towards Mr. Johnson's head, skids to a sliding stop on Mr. Johnson's bed side table knocking off the lamp, cell phone, and spare change. All the while he makes a noise very similar to the ring of a phone attached to a megaphone. Mr. Graham-Bell would be pleased. The cat will do this as many times as necessary until we feed him. This activity makes Mr. Johnson oh so very happy.

My cat-like reflexes were well tuned this morning. I caught Big Old Fat Stinky Face Mackers on lap 2 by the tail just as he was closing in on Mr. Johnson's face. I find it remarkable because I was in REM sleep.

Without looking at the clock I was hoping that the time was around 1:30am so I could have 4.5 more hours of glorious sleep......It was 6:00. Dern, I can't go back to sleep that quickly. So I padded into the living room looking for some reading material. I pick out the Bible and a study called A Gentle and Quite Spirit By Elizabeth George (I don't recommend it). Just as my butt hit the couch Mr. Johnson announces that, "we have no water, the well is frozen. I'm going to Lowe's to buy another heat lamp."

No sooner are the words are out of his mouth, Bruce the Brute jumps up on the couch as is his morning custom after he comes in from his outdoor duties. "What is that smell?" I am sniffing the blanket, couch, air filter, then I spot it all over Bruce's neck. I'm not sure if it was digested food or a dead animal but it was pungent and Bruce was covered.

I take Bruce to the bathroom and dump him in the bath with the intent to scrub him down with some caustic chemical when I remind myself we have no water. "Argh, Bruce you get to camp-out in the bathroom until we have indoor plumbing again." Bruce looked really, really pleased to relish his unique stink for a few more hours.

Again, I reside on the couch with my unfulfilling book until Eagle wakes. At the top of the stairs he announces his dire thirst and want of a really hot bath. "No can do this morning, bud, we have no water" I say. Eagle doesn't acknowledge my information with words only mild annoyance of the stink eye and goes into the kitchen for juice. Not a morning man......

As the sun comes up I decide to go to the barn a feed the ponies. I quickly learn it's 16 degrees which is cold enough to rearrange the anatomy of a brass monkey. Horse grain is frozen. Skin is surprisingly ineffective protection as evident of 10,000 nicks, cuts and scrapes all over my hands. Even more surprising, the 75 gallon water trough is empty when it was brimming full not even 11 hours ago and I have no way to fill it. I sense the horses are playing some sort of unamusing practical joke on me. (Every horse would have to drink 13 gallons in 11 hours....average is 10 gallons in 24 hours)

As the horses ate I stretched out every hose in my possession in the sun in hopes of reviving one to fill the water trough. I don't know what I was thinking....nothing will melt, even in the sun, at 18 degrees fahrenheit. However, the fire ant mounds were active.... and they were laughing at me. How can that be?

Eventually the well unfroze and all was well again. (I like that pun) But St.Martin sounds great right now.