Whiner

I’m not usually a whiner.

It irritates me when people whine.
I get mad at whiners.
I ignore them all the more.
Just ask my kids…
So…
I figure if *I’m* gonna whine… I also need to point out a blessing in disguise.
It may be related in some respect… it may not.
Let’s see how well I do.
I tried to water my lawn yesterday, but one thing I’ve found living on a ranch is that water doesn’t always appear when you flick that magical switch.  The poof of water that appeared was pitiful.  A cheap indoor fountain bought at Walmart would have produced as much water.  *Water conservation* THAT WAS THE BLESSING IN DISGUISE.
I obviously had to work on the dam in the creek to get more water to my irrigation pump.  Normally, I tend to walk right into the water… figuring living in a dry climate would be to the benefit of my soggy hiking boots… but I needed them for my walk later.  Unfortunately, I tried to slip on my daughter’s irrigating boots.  Her foot is bigger than mine.  Unfortunately, my calves are much larger than hers.  Boots no go on.  I try on my husband’s size 10s.  They fit over my fat legs, but now I’m wobbling along in boots 4 times bigger than necessary.  I feel like a toddler.  Chubby and unsteady.  *Reaffirm diet goal*  THAT WAS THE BLESSING IN DISGUISE.
I stumble towards the creek, unstable as a Saturday night drunk.  I curse the height of the weeds and uneven ground.  I climb the pole fence and like a drunk lose my balance on top and mash my right leg in my ungraceful grasping to steady myself.  *Start drinking* (If I’m gonna walk like a drunk, I might as well have some fun along the way)  OK.  Not really.  I partake already, I cannot tell a lie.  UHHHHHH… OK, I can’t think of anything else.  *Reaffirm diet goal* (so I can fit into those stupid irrigating boots)  THAT WAS THE BLESSING IN DISGUISE.
I enter the creek and start adding rocks to my dam.  I need to back up just two more inches of water over my intake pipe.  Nice day.  Cool water.  Dogs playing.  I’m actually beginning to come out of my funk and enjoy myself.  I reach down with both hands and grab another flat rock and ZING!  Something stung my right hand.  I launch that rock towards my dam and actually admire the unplanned placement of it.  But WOW! my hand is hurting and I shove it under the water to cool and soothe it.  I can’t help it.  Tears well up and I find myself back to drowning in a depression.  I whine.  I cry.  I actually cussed.  All right.  This one is tough.  UHHHHHH.  Oh… I’ve got it!  *I have discovered a new lifeform*  THAT WAS THE BLESSING IN DISGUISE.  (I never knew that there was something that could sting you under creek rocks.  I’ve spent a lot of time in creeks, never been stung.  Vernon, though unsympathetic later, did admit to being stung a great deal at the end of summer while irrigating.  He did say it hurt.  But he never kissed my hand to make it better.  He shrugged and went back to reading his paper.  Turkey.)
I ended my dam building session.  When I wobbled up the creekbank and gingerly climbed the fence, I could see my sprinklers merrily sprinkling above the tall weeds.  Good enough.
Wow.
This was exhausting.
Can I save the dead battery in my car… the flat tire… the trip to Worland (where my car had to get jumped twice AGAIN before I managed to get a new battery)… mechanical difficulties… new tires… and all that for some other day?
Figuring out those BLESSINGS IN DISGUISE is tough work.
Not that I’m whining you understand!

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