Well, last week turned out to be one big ‘ole train wreck of a disaster. Between family commitments, work, natural disasters, and travel my discipline went totally off the rails. I think there was even a guy waving a red lantern screaming “Stop! The bridge is out, the bridge is out!” But of course, I plunged right over the precipice. I’ll blame it on the éclair cake. Oh Lord, the éclair cake.
I was so exhausted during one of the family gatherings that lapsed into a coma on my aunt’s couch. I woke up at one point to find three of the kids (not mine, I would like to point out) tying each other to an iron bench. It looked serious enough that I had to ask what was going on. They gave me some sort of answer that I didn’t really understand about giving the dog surgery. Why they were tying each other up and not the dog taxed my brain so much that I just gave up thinking about it. I did consult the cat, who was also napping on the couch with me. She thought the “dog” and “surgery” part of the plan sounded fabulous, so we both went back to sleep. When I woke up they were all still alive and there wasn’t any blood on the carpet, so I guess the operation was a success.
Today we are having weather that is so severe that we are under a tornado warning and a blizzard warning at the same time. Huh? So most of today was spent fixing holes in fences, spreading hay out in barns and herding wet and reluctant cows around in the pasture. The herding was also done (by me) on foot because it was so muddy that driving was not an option and our horses are retired and sipping umbrella drinks by the pool. The type of dirt here is called gumbo, and when it gets muddy it sticks to everything, kind of like potter’s clay. So I spent a good part of the afternoon looking at cow’s behinds while thumping along with about twenty pounds of mud stuck to the bottom of each foot. While that certainly won’t be posted on the CrossFit HQ page any time soon, it was a heck of a workout.
Unroll and evenly distribute five 1200 pound bales of hay
Strap a manhole cover to each foot and walk 800 meters in the pouring rain while wildly waving arms and hooting like a lunatic at 106 wet and grumpy cows, trying to convince them that they really want to go south instead of north. Pray that none of you get struck by lightning. That would really screw up your time.
Locate one cold, wet fifty pound calf in a 1,000 acre pasture. Lift wriggling and slippery calf into tractor and deposit in dry barn.
Five rounds for time. (Just kidding, only one round. Ha, ha!)