Lagoon-atic

Brad has been semi-mocking, semi-testing my insistence that I want to start helping him around the farm (why, yes, I have lost my ever loving mind).

I've wanted to be more involved for a long time but Brad has no patience and I get a little fragile (which equals him yelling/criticizing and me stomping off). Mostly, I just wanted to better understand the whole industry, operation, etc., but he does work really hard and doesn't always have help available, so thought I could pitch in when needed. I'm sure I'll regret that because I'm told once you start, there's no going back.

We've made a few "soft opening" attempts (that's not dirty, I swear). Nothing too serious or extensive, and it ended as above--Brad frustrated that I'm not reading his mind and me calling him a jerk or butthead (and really, much worse, but I'm censoring).

Over the weekend, my kids (all of them!) were gone for a total of 24 hours and after I got caught up on the laundry (that for once really wasn't that far behind) I had zero clue what to do with myself. I watched a little Hallmark Christmas movie action and then tried to watch the Iowa Hawkeye game, but got nauseated by the trouncing. Wandered aimlessly around the house a little, proposing to myself larger projects I've been putting off and could dig into, but then decided that it would be incredibly pathetic if that's how I spent my 24 hours of freedom. 

Brad was working, and the weather was gorgeous for fall, so I ended up going for 4 runs instead of the usual once daily. It kind of gave me a preview of "empty nester" life. Super svelte, maybe, but bored to tears. 😂

Now granted, my oldest is in 5th grade so that's a little ways off, but not gonna lie, it had me panicking (the fact that I'm now someone who runs has me panicking a little too, but that's a different story).

Anyway, since I've expressed interest, Brad has been challenging me to help him a little more lately when I don't have 4 kids hanging off of me.

Brad was trying to connect or lock or secure something on the disc or rake or ripper or something and as I was out running he hollers for me to come help. So with zero backstory of what we're doing, or why we're trying to do it (in case that wasn't obvious by my something or something on the something talk) he tells me to "push to the west."

Push what and why? Where? How? What am I doing!?

"Like this?" *push against the bar he sort of gestured to*

"No, you're like a foot short."

Short of what?? What are we attempting to do here??

"You say you want to help, but this is why it won't work. It just takes too much time."

"Aggggh!!!" *Stomp off to finish my run*

This is why husbands and wives shouldn't work together. It should be an asterisk on the marriage license. Proceed at your own risk. Initial here.

But I'm a slow learner.

A couple days ago, when the kids got home from school, Bobby wanted to go ride with Brad, so I FaceTime'd him to see where he was at and if Bobby could come. He agreed but insisted I needed to come "help him". He gives no direction about what I need to help with, only that I need to help.

Cringe, roll my eyes, and sigh, but put on my shoes and go with Bobby down to the bunker to meet Brad.

Bobby climbs up in the end loader with Brad and I jump on to ride along outside on the ladder (hanging on for dear life).

"Ooop, wait, hold on! I forgot the chicken pot pie is in the oven! *Run back to the house to turn the oven off*

Brad: EYEROLLS and GROANS for DAYSSSSS

*Come back and jump back on--again, clinging for dear life*

"Okay, we can go now."

We get to the lagoon. 

Fantastic. A pool of excrement. What could go wrong.

"There's a looped cable on the fence post on the west side of the lagoon. Go pull the cable off."

"Um, what fence post?" 

Scanning the horizon off the bank of the lagoon. Literally do not see a fence post.

"Right there!"

That is not a fence post, that's a stake. A fence post is round and wooden.

Brad is hard eye rolling at this point. I can feel it from across the lagoon, where he's locating the matching fence post and cable.

I approach my appointed "fence post" and see no cable attached or looped anywhere. Of course not.

I'm looking on the stake, I'm looking on the ground, nada. So I start to walk down the slope towards the lagoon to see if I can see it coming out of the lagoon.

"Emily! What are you doing!? Get back up on the bank! Pull off the cable!"

Yeah, gonna, Brad. Have to find it first.

I locate said cable--said steel cable-- at the bottom of the embankment coming out of the lagoon, and track it up under 2 feet of overgrown weeds and grass, and pull to dislodge it.

Nearly fall back over into the lagoon. 

That would have been awesome.

Finally (after lots of tugging and cursing Brad under my breath as he's telling me to hurry up) get it free and pull the loop off the stake.

In addition, there was about 20 feet of excess tail (as far as I could tell) that was also buried under 2 feet of overgrown grass, weeds, and Lord knows what else. Handy. I'm pulling and pulling and pulling (with bare hands, mind you. on a steel cable mind you) and it is not coming up. 

I don't even know if it's supposed to come up? Is it supposed to come up? Is it buried and connected to something for a reason?  If I pull it up, is someone else going to have to come and rebury said cable for thousands of dollars and I'll spend the next two weeks listening to lectures about how could I possibly not have known that it wasn't supposed to come up!? 

Anybody's guess, and my guess would suck because I don't even know what we're doing.

Brad stomps over. "Emily, what is so hard about this!?"

"It's stuck!"

Brad pulls up the excess tail (with leather work gloves on, mind you) and gets it free. Hands me the cable.

"Pull."

Pull where? Why? 

But I didn't ask and pulled my cable in the general direction he was pulling his. 

Turns out, we were pulling the pump out of the lagoon. I figured that out surprisingly early on, but would it have been so hard to explain that to me? I don't need to know why we're pulling the pump out or even what the pump is for, but a little direction on what the flock we're doing and how to do it would be quite enlightening and a lot less stressful.

Once we got it to "shore", Brad used the end loader to lift it out. And that was the end of that debacle.

And then there was chicken pot pie--which has clearly defined instructions and steps with an anticipated, expected, and understood outcomes. Which was delicious, btw. I'm not entirely inept.

I just need to mush it through the stubborn surrounding his brain that most people need explanation and instruction on how to do something they're unfamiliar with or have never done before and then the 2nd (er maybe 3rd-ish) time they can do it on their own without direction and without help. Novel, peculiar, strange, I know.

Last night as Brad was paying bills he said, "Do you want to drive the tractor Friday by yourself and haul manure?"

"Why, yes, love. I'd love to spend my whole day off surrounded by the aroma of poop, arguing with you about what's beeping and why, what button/lever/switch I push/pull/flip to do what and screaming because I don't know what happened to the tree, fence, gate, bunk, etc. Sounds heavenly. "

He didn't look up from the desk, but smiled his mischievous grin that I simultaneously want to wipe and kiss right off his face.

Speaking of pushing buttons..

We'll probably be fine.