It seems God used a pile full of manure, the stench of a dud rotten egg and two geese to get the lessons learned from two blogs firmly hammered into my head.
I wish I had caught on a little faster.
After I get my post up for the day, I usually read the same two blogs faithfully and then I try to find a new blog or two to see what’s out there and what’s going on in other’s lives.
Yesterday, I refound Tiny Paragraphs (http://shannonpopkin.com/blogs/shannonsblog/default.aspx). The message made me go ‘yup, that’s me’. That was my new blog for the day. Then I wandered on over to The Word in Worship (http://thewordinworship.blogspot.com/). I read Jaime’s blog faithfully. Jaime was talking about being over tired and ‘are you in the word (Bible)?’
I haven’t been. All week. And only a little bit last week.
The only other blog I read faithfully every day is Sue’s blog (http://www.praiseandcoffee.cm/) and it didn’t help that it had a special post on whining. When I think on it now, it was kinda all three blogs together!
But I had JUST read Tiny Paragraphs and The Word in Worship when S1 comes running in to tell me the Geese had left the coop.
All day we have been on high alert. Once Mr. Goose and Miss Goosey left the coop, the plan was to board up the entrance, locking them out and forcing them to move into a little coop we had for them that they refuse to use, so we could move all our baby chicks into the big chicken coop. I had planned on having my husband help. This is partly why I married my husband, to do the nasty jobs I am too weak and too girly to do.
He was gone.
S1 got the board nailed in place and I knew I had to put my big tough farm girl boots on and go out and help, because the boys had no idea what they were in for. In order to move the new chickens in, we had to move the nasty old manure out.
I had dreams of soaking in the bathtub with mounds of bubbles and a mug of tea and novel I have been waiting to begin that night. Instead I was in a quickly darkening coop shoveling manure. I told S2 to be careful if there were any eggs in one nest in particular. The hens like this one nest the most and I was afraid there might be some old eggs in there. “Be careful…” and before I could finish the sentence I heard a ‘pop’ that sounded odd. “What was that?” I asked him.
He began to gag.
He had cracked open a dud rotten egg and the smell was horrific. Rotten eggs smelled better than this one. It was more than rotten….and the smell filled our nostrils and our mouths tasted it and it was so horrific I draw a blank on the words to use. Truly awful.
We went into over drive then. S1 was pulling the rotten egg and surrounding straw out of there while holding a mitt over his mouth (working one handed took longer but I really couldn’t blame him!). Once he got it out, I dumped it far away and then S1, S2 and I got to work cleaning out the rest of the coop. I stood there pitching manure, hating the smell (though lessened greatly) of the rotten egg, the couple year old rotting manure, the dust…truly a ‘calgon, take me away’ moment.
The more we worked, the louder Mr. Goose and Miss Goosey got. They wanted in. Our dog barked at a high pitch at them, constant. The geese answered back insult for insult. It was so annoying! I wanted out of there and began shouting at the boys to get a move on, move faster, shovel more…I had to shout. The sound outside was so loud no normal decibel words could be heard. I could hear myself getting more and more irritated with everything and taking it out on my hard working boys. As we worked away, our dog took a short break to drink water, the geese went to town eating the chicken scraps (leftover dinners from us) and S2 says cheerily, “Moma, some of the best times we have with you are when we are working on chicken stuff. Isn’t this fun?”
I was being awful and I knew it. I was like the geese, honking out insults of the conditions, being annoying. But here he was glad for the time spent doing this stinky job.
And he had a point. I am out there in my new dangly cowgirl earrings. I have a silk cami top on and my big barn boots. I must be a sight. We are working in an old shed and are unearthing treasures we didn’t know we had. We’re doing a big nasty job, and there is pride in that, in actually getting it done.
Yah, I guess I could see how it could be fun. Humorous even.
We continued to work in the awful stench and dust, with the dog and geese hurling insults at each other, but we worked in peace, toward the same goal.
It was then the two blogs I had finished moments before going out to help them came back to me.
God must have really wanted to drill these messages home to me. In a big way.
We finished and I even planted the trumpet vine and morning glories around the coop like I had planned. All chickens made it in and are happy to have room to move and flap their wings finally.
The boys requested ice cream for dinner, and tonight I let them. As they were scooping it out, I told them how proud I was of them for their hard work. “You boys were true farm boys today.”
Their little chests puffed out with new importance.
Yah, God, thanks for drilling that point home to this moma. But, if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather take break from learning by manure, rotten eggs and honking geese.
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