I don’t know who to focus my ranker on. It could be Darla for coming up with another job for her crazy pet Turkey. I could be angry at Wobbly for rippin’ that fool fowl’s feathers out. Last of all, I reckon I should be mad at myself. After all, it was my harmless white lie about a varmint in the barn that got me into this predicament.
In case y’all ain’t heard, the Carolinas have been gettin’ a mess of rainstorms over the last couple of years. Our fields and yards look more like swamps with the smallest drizzle, and you can forget walkin’ or mowin’. It’s so muddy even the grass can’t hold us up.
You can imagine how delightful it is over at the barn. What with the chicken manure piles that have been beaten down by rainstorm after rainstorm. Not to mention the dirt road that is now a mud bog. It ain’t fit for a pig.
That’s why my dander is up. I spent most of the day rollin’ around that mud pit runnin’ cable from the nearest telephone pole into the barn. No, it wasn’t for any television. It was for the internet. I will admit, once I got inside the barn, things were a mite more manageable. Unfortunately, one of my favorite work boots is buried out yonder under the soaked soil. I don’t reckon I’ll ever see it again.
You may be wonderin’ at this point why I’m installin’ internet in the barn and what my beautiful bride has to do with the situation. After all, most fellas would prefer to hide out at the farm and spend the day watchin’ their favorite Youtubes or watch folks cut each other down on Twitter like a bunch of gossipin’ old hens.
However, I ain’t interested in such things. I come out to the barn to enjoy the peace. Unfortunately, I think I did myself in with my latest explanation to the love of my life. If you read my previous posts, you may recall I claimed a varment de-feathered her gobblin’ BFF. It was an honest lie to protect my best friend from my love’s wrath.
Evidently, I was so convincing that Darla decided we needed to put a webcam in the barn to monitor Tom in real-time on the livestream. She even had me hook up a speaker so she can talk to it. If I’m bein’ honest, I thought this was the dumbest idea of our marriage, and that was before I crawled through the mud.
However, as usual, my wife proved why she is right, and I am wrong. I hooked up the camera and told Darla to test it so I wouldn’t have to drive back out and do another mud crawl. When Tom heard her voice, he started runnin’ in circles, jumpin’, flappin’ his wings, and in general, looked like he was dancin’ a jig.
Now I know that walkin’ Thanksgivin’ feast has a bird brain inside his head. Still, I have to admit that there’s somethin’ goin’ on between those eyes. Someday he’ll get too old, and we’ll finally make him dinner. I think I might feel bad when that day comes. Well, I’ll almost feel bad.