Dryer Screens and Wrecked Fences

by

Happy April! It’s so nice to be here with you again today.

Now, I know some of you have figured out that a lot of the things in my books are based on my real-life experiences on the farm. It’s not just about the adventures we have, but it’s also about relationships and the care of them that I love including in my stories.

The real-life story I wanted to tell you today has a little of both – adventure and the care and handling of relationships. : )

It’s been wet here in Virginia, and the two connected pastures where our cows are rather muddy. They’re also very steep—too steep to plant—which is why they’re pasture.

Last Thursday as it started to snow, Watson drove out to check the cows. I rode along. I think he likes me to go, that way he has someone to try to scare while he’s driving. (Any of you have husbands like that?)

The temps were right around freezing, so there was mud, then a little bit of ice on the top of the mud. It wasn’t frozen solid, just had a slippery crust on it. Then, with the snow coming down, there was a dusting of even more slippery snow on top of the slippery ice on top of the slippery mud.

Did I mention it was slippery?

I’m going to complain about my husband a bit, so I think I’d better start out by admitting that I am not a good driver. I mean, I am a very courteous driver who absolutely never gets angry while driving. I just don’t. (No matter what some other driver does to me, I know I have done much worse—on accident—to someone else. How can I get upset at anyone?)

I know I’m a bad driver, though, because I have totaled two cars.

Enough about me. Let me tell you about my husband. : )

We drive into the pasture and pretty much slide almost to the bottom. By the way, at the bottom of the pasture is the creek. A fence separates the upper pasture from the lower one.

So, we have the Gator in four-wheel drive, and we drive along the creek, checking the other bank for mama cows who want a little privacy to have their babies.

There’s nothing there on Thursday, but because of the snow falling, it’s a really good day for a cow to freshen, so we go around the fence. Watson tells me to “hang on” while he goes through the bottom of the gully as fast as he can to try to get a run to make it up the other side of the hill.

It was a good idea.

We make it halfway up.

There’s a gully on our left side (it deepens fast and is a favorite spot for new mamas to have their babies), and the fence is behind us. We’re stopped, but the wet mud, ice, and snow has made it so if we start backward, then turn sideways, we’ll slid downhill.

Watson kind of excels in situations like this.

We’re sitting on the hill in the Gator, I’ve got a hold of the door handle and the handle (that was so thoughtfully provided) on the dash, and Watson looks at me and says, “Now what?”

You know how when you’re in a situation like that and your brain is going a hundred miles an hour and you have all these thoughts? Well, one of my thoughts was that I should have put my seatbelt on.

The Gator actually does have seatbelts, but while I wear it religiously in my car (and you know who doesn’t, right?), we never wear them around the farm because you’re getting in and out all the time, to check cows and open gates and roll bales out, etc. It would be a real pain in the tush to put a belt on and off.

I’m honestly not even sure they work, since no one has ever actually worn one.

Anyway, I’m sitting there thinking this would be a good time to test the seatbelt out, but while my brain is coming up with all these really good thoughts, I can’t get my hands to work. (It might have something to do with there not being a crowbar in the cab of the Gator to pry my fingers off the handles.)

Maybe I’m the only one who has this problem, but my husband never wants my advice before we get into trouble. It’s always when we’re sitting in the middle of a mess that he suddenly remembers that I might have something to add to the conversation.

So, he’s waiting on me to answer him. Ha.

So I say, “I’m pretty sure we’re going to hit the fence.”

He looks over his shoulder, behind us. The fence is about thirty yards straight down the slippery hill. “Yeah.”

“It’s old, and we’re going to flatten it.”

He doesn’t need to look this time. Instead, he looks at me and gives me that grin that says he knows he should be in deep trouble, but he’s really looking forward to this. His eyes kind of sparkle as he says, “Yeah.”

I’m not going to waste my energy getting upset. There’s no point. So I say, “But that fence needs to be replaced anyway, so really, someone needs to take it out. Why not us?”

“Good point,” he says, just before he releases the brake, yanks the wheel to the left, and guns the gas.

Watson’s goal is (apparently) to slide around parallel to the fence with enough momentum to run along the edge of it as we slide downhill, hitting the gully at the lowest point, just above the corner fence post, and slipping around the fence.

We almost make it.

We smack the fence with the hard plastic part of my door. To my great surprise, the fence holds, we slide around, and when we finally stop about three centimeters from the edge of the creek, I wind my window down and stick my head out, noting that there isn’t even a scratch on the Gator.

Our bull (all two thousand plus pounds of him) is in the creek, slightly disturbed at our untimely and rather rude arrival.

I don’t know how many of you have ever looked a bull in the eye before, but he’s got his head up and is staring right at us. I’m sorry, I don’t mean this to be rude, but bulls just do not look smart.

Anyway, Watson and I are staring at him, and I say, “I’m pretty sure in our marriage contract it says that if we get stuck in mud, it’s your job to get out and push.”

I’m also pretty sure that Watson never read our marriage contract. Actually, I know he didn’t, since there’s no such thing, but I’ve been using this line for years and he’s never caught on. Most recently, I’ve been using it about the dryer, since for the last ten months, our dryer hose has been plugged somewhere and our dryer hasn’t been getting the clothes dry.

This annoys me, since I’m the one who runs the dryer. I’ve asked him to fix it (since it states in our marriage contract that anything that needs to be fixed under the house is his job), but he insists that there’s no problem with the dryer, I’m just not smart enough to run it.

Hmm.

So, I was kind of patient about it for a while, but lately I’ve been folding his clothes wet and putting them in the closet like that. It annoys him, so then both of us are annoyed, which seems fair to me.

Last week, he was getting ready to leave for Pennsylvania, realized the clothes in the closet were wet, took them all back down to the dryer, and put them back in.

After he left, I realized he’d taken them out but hadn’t folded them or taken them back up or put them away. So…I’m annoyed again, and I carry the basket up (which I’ve already done once—I’ve also already folded the clothes, and I’ve already put them away!) So…I’d really like to say that I did it all again with a smile, but…I didn’t. Instead, I open up the closet and…dump my husband’s clothes on the floor before I slam the door shut.

Right. You know how you feel guilty about something even as you’re doing it, but you just can’t stop?

So, anyway, that night, the girls made me watch the movie, I Still Believe. I know it’s been out for a while, but I’ve never seen it. Has anyone who’s seen it watched it without crying? LOL. So, I’m sitting there while a trio of sobs is sounding from the girls, and I’m saying to myself, “I will not cry, I will not cry, I WILL NOT CRY.”

I’m not sure why it is so important that I not cry during movies, but it’s a thing for me. So, I don’t cry, but through the whole movie, God keeps reminding me about the clothes on the closet floor and how I should be grateful for what I have rather than being a brat about what I don’t.

That’s really not what the movie is about, but it’s funny how we see the lesson we need.

So, yeah, the girls go to bed.

I go upstairs and pick up the clothes from the floor of the closet, fold them, and put them away neatly.

Then I get my computer, sit down on the floor, and Google dryer vent hose.

After I’m done with that, the internet is (surprisingly) still working, so I watch a couple YouTube videos on replacing window and door screens. Even though it says quite clearly in our marriage contract that Watson is also responsible for fixing the screens (okay, it doesn’t say that, either), I’m still working on this kindness thing (that I’ve been working on for decades) and why in the world should I be getting annoyed about the dryer and screens when I’m quite capable of fixing them myself [I think : ) ]!

Anyway, I left off with Watson and I staring at the bull.

While Watson is probably never going to fix my dryer or screens, have I mentioned that he is a fantastic driver?

He managed (somehow) to get us out of there, without falling into the creek, without either of us having to push, and Mr. Bull only got a little bit of mud slung on him. I eventually got my fingers pried off the door handles, and eventually (several days later), Watson quit grinning.

Alright, I’m having a huge party in my Facebook Reader Chat this week and I would just love for you all to join me here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/jessiegussman

Thanks so much for spending time with me this week!

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USA Today best-selling author Jessie Gussman writes sweet and inspirational romance from her farm in central Virginia. Having attended, but never graduating from the school of hard knocks, Jessie uses real life on the farm to inspire her cowboy, rural and blue-collar fiction.

When she’s not chasing kids, cows and the occasional roll-away haybale, Jessie enjoys wading in Naked Creek and not cleaning her house. Most of the time her main goal is to keep from catching herself on fire…again.

If you enjoy fun stories with vivid characters showcasing strong families with a ribbon of faith tying everything together, you might enjoy Jessie’s books.

40 thoughts on “Dryer Screens and Wrecked Fences”

  1. I always enjoy your life on the farm stories.

    I google how to fix things, too, since they don’t always get done per the marriage contract.

    denise

  3. My husband hasn’t read his marriage contract which is a real blessing, because he willingly goes above and beyond everything in the old fashioned wedding vows we made fifty years ago. My frustration is that if he had his way I wouldn’t do anything!
    I love the life lessons you teach, the rebellion and the forgiveness, the see saw that we all experience in different ways.

  4. What an adventure! I love the humor you find in the little things! Relationships are crucial, & humor really helps to keep a balance in moods.

  5. Aaahhhh….the humor! And in the small stories of life! My husband tells my mother he is still waiting on the five acres and a goat from my “dowry”. But, this marriage contract? I love! I’m going to throw that out there! Love your stories!

    • Haha! Oh, goodness, it’s a good thing my husband won’t be reading this – he’d be heading over to my dad’s this afternoon to demand his five acres and a goat! Only I’d bet my husband would say they owe him a lot more than that for putting up with me all these years. lol Thanks for the laugh!

  6. I too have the unwritten marriage contract. I don’t “Pill the cat”. It’s my job to love on the animals and feed them. I do not hold them down, pry their mouth open and shove something in their mouth. However, I have done it….to the cat. And, yes, he stared at me like I was nuts. Another thing this KY girl turned Floridian doesn’t do is salamanders. That’s what I have a husband, son and cats for. If there is a salamander in the house, someone is getting it out. I don’t care how many spiders or ants my husband thinks they will eat. I’ve had to amend the “contract” and add tree frogs the night I was going upstairs (after putting my kindle on the charger) and there was a huge tree frog on the wall. Yes, I woke DH up and told him to get the tree frog. He didn’t grumble. He was as shocked as I was about how that thing got in.

    Also, my washer that I’ve used for 29 years is that washer my husband had when we got married. The thing has been on it’s last leg for years. It went out 4 months ago and I too got the lecture about how it works, I just don’t know how to use it. So we’ve been limping along with this washer ever since. We only have 1 daughter at home now so we know not to do any laundry unless DH is home to “fix” it if it doesn’t work. I do have my new washer picked out. When this thing dies, I’m going to pick up my new one!

    My sister does a “state of the union” each year. She puts together their income and expenses and savings, years to retirement, etc. She retired at 60 so I guess she knew what she was doing. I used to do this, but kids and a full time job have kept me busy.

    • Haha! Sometimes the contract needed amended – I didn’t know this! So glad I leaned something today. Thanks!

      Laughing about your washer and love that you get that lecture. That must be a universal thing because I was up at my parents’ house a few years ago, taking care of my mom and had to wash some clothes for her. I asked her how to work their dryer and she said, “I don’t know. It never does what it’s supposed to.” And my dad came over and said, “She tried to shove everything in and hit all the buttons and that is not the way you do it. You do it like this.” Then he “showed” me how, pushed the start button and…nothing. lol

      A “state of the union” is a great idea! I should do that. : )

      Thanks for stopping in today!

  7. Im sorry, I am sitting here laughing. Your husband sounds like a character. I may try to use that line with my husband who is the master procrastinator. LOL But we love them anyway. Thank goodness God has all the strength and courage we need and we can rely on Him. Thanks for sharing your story

    • Amen – God is good! I’m so glad we could share some laughter today. You’ll have to let me know how that line works for you (I have some others if you need them, lol.)

  8. I thought you were legit describing the life and workings between my hubby and me. LOL. Down to non-correctly-working appliances. A random movie will also place the guilt and lesson learning right at my door! HAha! Oh the lives we lead. 🙂 Thank you for making my day and reminding me there are others like me. 😉 (or maybe it’s just a farm thing)

  9. OMG – I can so relate – love the marriage contract line – I should try that one on mine – see if I CAN GET anything fixed!! Most of the time I too just do it myself! That is usually how a farm wife rolls!

  10. Are all husbands the same? Mine will never ask for my help with a task or even tell me what he’s going to be fixing until he’s in the middle of it and realizes he needs help IMMEDIATELY.

    Speaking of dryer vents, our clothes weren’t drying completely (I wish I had thought of your solution). I mentioned that the vent hose probably needed to be cleaned out. I got an uhuh in reply. Then (luckily?) the motor on the dryer died. We decided to get a new dryer instead of spending hundreds of dollars to fix the very old one. We found out that our new dryer has an air flow sensor that will turn off the dryer if the vent hose is at all blocked. 🙂 So hubby spent hours crawling around the attic disconnecting, cleaning and reassembling the hose. In addition to lint, he discovered an abandoned bird’s nest! Our clothes are getting completely dried for the first time in a very long time.

    I love your life stories! Thank you.

    • WOW!!! That must be awesome! (I’m pretty sure if anyone is crawling around anywhere, it’s gonna be me, lol.) Thanks so much for your fun comment – it’s nice to relate! : )

  12. My daughter used to call me and say, “Daddy worked on the dryer but it still isn’t working right. Could you fix it and not tell him? God bless him! He was a good man but he definitely wasn’t a mechanic.

  13. My husband can not fix things! My daughter once pleaded with me to not have her dad work on her car! 🙂
    Love your farm stories!!

  15. My husband fixed everything without my needing to ask him but he passed away about ten years ago so my adult son handles all that for me now but sometimes I just call a handyman.

    As far as my own dad, I literally always thought he had a bad back because he’d mumble something about that but when he was pretty old he came clean and told me he ‘didn’t want to get a bad back’ haha…

  16. I can relate to your situation, but luckily my husband is a bit more punctual in fixing things. We never do bring up the marriage contract, but his excuse for doing things I either do or do not approve of in the marriage is that he has a license for it. True, but why doesn’t that work for me? In our youth, we had a few driving adventures but that was many years ago. He bought a Land Rover (think safari vehicle) just before we got married. One of our first times out on a forest road he decided he could just drive through the trees. Worked for a bit as he drove over saplings and brush. We eventually came to a small tree, not really that big around, but it was not going to budge and he had to find a way to turn around and go back the way we came. He never did try that again. We did have good times on logging roads in the Maine and New York woods as well as in the forest in the Colorado Rockies. Got good at fording small streams, bringing boards to put over narrow trenches/gullies ,although I missed the boards once and coming to a drop-stop like that really rattles your teeth. We are refurbishing Rover now. It is a 1972 and like us, needs a bit of TLC. Luckily awe never had to contend with angry bulls or any other wild creatures.

  19. Thank you Jesse. I always love your stories. You always have wonderful life stories to share. Happy Holy week. God bless you.

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