Doesn't it seem like when things go wrong, that it happens all at once? Well, yesterday was one of those days that made me stop and ponder what in the world is going on in the universe. Remember how I was enjoying my morning in my pajamas while doing laundry? In the middle of my jubilation, my washing machine died. I've had the thing since Taylor was a baby and she is now 16. I wish I knew the number of loads the poor thing has done. After we moved to the farm, it began heavy duty work in washing all of our poo laden overalls.
So, the mess began. Dad has a consumer reports account online so I took advantage of this and found the best washer for the money, called my local Sears store and decided on the one to buy. When we got a chance to break from the farm, Rodney and I hooked up the trailer to Mom and Dad's Yukon and headed to Mena. Of course when we got there and began to look over the washer and it's specs and so on, we ended up buying the dryer that went with it. After everything was paid for and loaded up, we headed home with our new appliances. I was so confused whether or not it was appropriate for me to be excited or not. I didn't wake up yesterday thinking, I sure want a new washer and dryer.
Anyway, the mess began when we had to gut our utility room of it's contents, including the old washer and dryer and a shelf, along with all the crap on the shelves and a mountain of laundry.
So this is what all of these activities created. Don't the new washer
and dryer look out of place somehow? There they sit all shiney
and new in the middle of the rubble that has become my house.
This is when I started to feel like my life has gotten
off track somehow. Please note my teenage son
lounging on the couch while we suffer through the
pain of swapping appliances.
Also note in the above picture the can of pineapple on the coffee table, I can feel the hick-i-ness growing
However, observing this mornings view in my yard really made me have
to reevaluate my whole existence. Did I turn into a hick somewhere in the night?
Did little hick elves with their trucker hats and tobacco sneak in and
place old appliances and cars in my driveway? It's like Christmas for bumpkins!!
All I need now is about 5 kids in the front yard eating dirt. I guess
I could put Kyle out on the front porch with a shotgun.
I assume that my uneasiness about all of this is a sign that perhaps I'm only
a weekend hillbilly and I can get it all cleaned up and return to being merely
a rustic country dweller. Lordy mercy, the work I have ahead of me now
I'll be sure to post pictures of my triumph over this hopefully short-lived disaster. Or
maybe I'll just get used to living like this, it does have a strange endearing
quality. not
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