How Do These Things Happen to Me?

Good morning everyone.  This is a brief tale of one of the many bizarre things that happen to me at the farm.  I never have to make-up a funny story.  I have plenty of material from farm life.  How do these things happen to me?  I have no idea.

One Tuesday afternoon, I was at the farm alone.  That's how it is on Tuesdays.  I walked through the horse barn to stall 13.  It's become my storage stall because most people do not want their horse in "unlucky number 13." In some cultures, 13 is a lucky number.  Not in the USA.  It's considered an unlucky number.  It doesn't bother me, though.

I opened the stall door.  Hay to go in the barn feeders, rakes, shovels, and that kind of stuff is stored in there.  There's also a wheelbarrow to fork the hay into to take it to the stalls without making a huge mess.

That day I was wearing boots and jeans as usual.  For work boots, I wear Ariat Fat Babies.  They hit me at low calf.  They are mostly hidden by my jeans.  So, I have no idea how this happened.

If you've ever owned a pair of boots, you know there are a couple of tabs at the top on each side.  These are to help pull your boots on.  If you're told to "pull yourself up by your own boot straps" this is the place they mean for you to grab.  My boot straps were covered by my jeans.  They always are!

As I stepped into stall 13 this day, I stepped past the wheelbarrow that is fairly close to the door.  Then I abruptly stopped.  My right leg was caught in the air.  What the heck?  Why couldn't I put my foot down?

I was standing like a flamingo on one leg.  I didn't have anything to reach forward to balance myself.  I was too far past the door to hold on to the door jam to balance.  I was stuck. 

I was about to be flat on my face.  Worst of all, no one would be there until the next morning to help me if I fell and hurt myself...for example by tearing all of the ligaments in my right leg that was stuck in the air and twisting my right knee beyond repair.  Those were not good options.

I balanced on my left leg and carefully turned at my waist to see why my right leg was stuck.  My boot strap was around the wheelbarrow handle.  How in the world did that happen?  My jean leg was over my boot, not tucked into it? How in the heck did it ever get the wheelbarrow handle laced through it?

I will never know how I managed that feat.  I suspect some evil leprechaun had been occupying stall 13 just biding his time to pull a real doozie on me.  His time had come and he had struck...and vanished as leprechauns do.

I wasn't in a position to simply slide my foot out of my boot and then unlace it from the wheelbarrow.  No, my life is never simple.  You should know that by now.  Look at my plumbing puzzle from last Sunday, after all.

I also couldn't hop backwards on my left leg and unlace my boot from the wheelbarrow.  My boot strap had managed to slide down almost the length of the entire handle. Hopping backward would likely land me on my butt, but worst of all my spine across the wooden threshold and my head on the concrete hall floor.  That would not result in simple injuries. Crap!

With the help of my guardian angel, I made a move worthy of Cirque du Soleil.  I stood unwavering on my left leg.  I arched backwards at my waist.  I made a near crescent moon with my back.  I took my foot still in my  boot with my right hand. I gently slid it back up the length of the wheelbarrow handle.  I did not fall.  I did not tear any ligaments or wreck my knee.  I did not fall to a head injury or a broken back.

I was free!  Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, I was free at last!  And, I hadn't done yoga in a really long time.  Maybe this was a sign from above that I should start again?

I cannot tell you how these things happen to me, but they do. As I promised you from the beginning, these stories are all true.  Ok, the leprechaun wasn't true...as far as I know!

I hope you had a good laugh at my expense.  I certainly did!  Have a wonderful Sunday! Thanks for reading!