Farm Fresh Blog

     When you live in the country, there is no shortage of excuses for why you're late. As I

left the house yesterday, I announced to Other Half that I was "ON SCHEDULE" and would

actually manage to make it work on time. (Why do I announce this to the Winds of Fate?

To do so is playing with disaster - or at the very least, spitting in the wind.)

 

     So since I had properly alerted Fate, I left the house and headed to work. One mile down the

road I heard the laughter.  It was Fate. There, by the highway, were two loose horses.

Great. Just great. If I called the Sheriff's office and then left, they'll get hit. Soooo,

with Fate laughing in my ear, I called Other Half and informed him that I needed his help. Then I

called the office and informed them that I would be, yet again, late. They didn't seem surprised.

Go figure.

 

     Now I'm not the only person who drags in late, but I always, hands down, have the most bizarre excuses! People who live in suburbia just can't compete. (except for the guy who had a tree limb crash through his house and into his daughter's room. Apparently the limb contained several squirrels who then ran amuck in his house. That, Friends & Neighbors is MY KIND OF

ADVENTURE!)

 

My own excuses ALWAYS seem to involve the farm:
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And the list goes on . . .