As a busy farmgal, mom, and fledgling blogger, or should I just say farmomlogger, I sometimes get a bit behind on my least favorite job..cleaning.
I am usually pretty tidy, but stuff sort of ...ends up places. Now I am not talking about filth, or even really bad dirt ( except maybe the laundry room/barn boot drop off/frozen pail and hose thawing room/egg basket drop off location. THAT room is in rough shape, 90 percent of the time. I was admiring Ree Drummond's house while watching her debut on the cooking channel the other day. Have you heard of her? She blogs as the "Pioneer Woman" and now has a cooking show. My Gosh..her home is SPOTLESS! Now, I am sure it isn't quite like that all the time, but wow, what a house. She is the "Martha Stewart" of country bloggers, and I think I must be the "Roseanne" of country bloggers! Night and day, except we both like kids and animals and food. Alright, we have a lot in common, but I guess I would have to admit she is a tad tidier then I am. For example, I looked by her sink, and I didn't see any signs of rooster spurs. Hmm..maybe that is more of a farmgal thing, rather then a Pioneer Woman thing.
Now, I know your saying..you have what?? by your what? We had a really pretty rooster that unfortunately passed away last summer. Rooster Cogburn was his name and he was a very nice bird. He was never mean, took good care of his biddies, and crowed like clockwork every morning at 4 am. Ok, except for that, he was a great rooster. The 4 am thing was a bit early, even for us farmers. He was 6 years old when he died, fairly old by rooster standards, although they can live a lot longer then that. He had huge, long spurs that grew off the back of his legs. They are what roosters fight with, if they ever need to, as the spurs can get long and sharp. He was always protected from predators by us farmers, ( that story is for another day), and so never needed to defend himself with his spurs. When he died, I decided that I would keep them, so I cut them off and save them. Now, I was thinking earrings...But my daughter said if I did that she would have me committed. So, oddly enough, and I'm really not sure how, they have ended up on the shelf above my sink. Which brings me to why I will never have a housekeeper.
This past summer Cliff, Cameron, Liam and I took a trip to Aroostook county in Northern Maine to rack up some serious driving hours for Drivers Education. While we were gone for 2 days, my darling daughter thought it would be nice to have a house cleaner come in to clean, as a surprise for me. It is fair to say the housekeeper was the one surprised.
Brogan got here early to get a "head start" and go through to put away anything I might have left out that I wouldn't have wanted a housekeeper to see, like underwear, for example. The house keeper arrived shortly after Brogan got to the house and started in...
" Uh, Miss...what is this?" came the first question. Brogan walked into the bathroom and found her holding an antique spike approximately 6 inches long that was, for some reason, stuck into a roll of toilet paper. Now, I know about that spike,,and I am not really sure why I have always kept it in the bathroom on the shelf under the antique "Cattle auction" sign, but, I do not remember seeing it stuck into a roll of toilet paper. Brogan assured the lady that it was probably just one of her brothers playing a joke and they went about their cleaning.
"Uh..Miss Brogan, what is this?" came the same question, this time in the living room. Brogan stopped dusting and looked over as the housekeeper pulled a 4 inch horse blanket pin out from under the couch cushion. "oh..that's just a horse blanket pin...not sure how it got there." Brogan replied. I had no clue either. Weird.
They continued through the dining room and out into the kitchen. Brogan said, "Lets do the back porch and my mothers office before the kitchen", so out they went, dragging their cleaning supplies along with them. Sure enough, they had no more then started when Brogan heard.." Uhh, what do I do with this?" She looked over at my computer where the woman had been dusting the bottom shelf of my stand, and lo and behold, she was holding a holster, complete with bullets, and one of my bras, which according to Brogan, "hung down the whole length of the housekeepers body".
" Ohhhhh boy," said Brogan, rushing to take the weapon of mass destruction ( and I'm not talking about the bullets and the holster!) out of the hands of the bewildered housekeeper. "Well, you see, " stammered my flustered oldest, " We have a fox problem..and well..I guess my mother must sweat a lot out trying to save the hens, or maybe, well, I JUST DON'T KNOW!" Brogan grabbed my unmentionables ( oops..too late for that) and the holster and ran into the laundry room, where she deposited the bra in the hamper and tossed the holster into the large mixing bowl, where the gun was waiting for it. What? Doesn't everyone keep a gun in a mixing bowl?
She hurried back to find the housekeeper was done with my office, and was now in the kitchen. Brogan started to clear off the wood stove, which is a catch all for everything in the summer months, when she once again heard the housekeeper speak. " Oh my...What is THIS?" Brogan hesitantly turned, and yes.,.the housekeeper was holding the rooster spurs in her hands, turning them this way and that...a very, uneasy look on her face.
Brogan, took a deep breath, and said..." Those are part of a pair of earrings my mother is making", walked over, took them out of her hands and said.." I think we are done! How much do I owe you?"