That kind of ouched

Here in southeast Oklahoma it’s been cold the last couple of weeks. Normally, winter is a muddy, wet mess. Most days I worry about getting wet and muddy or getting the tractor stuck. So I’m not used to dealing with ice and snow. Maybe I’m getting old, but I kind of had to re-learn about feeding in the snow and ice these past couple of weeks.

The bitter cold moved in and all of the mud holes around the barns froze solid. Then came the snow. It snowed so hard I couldn’t see the trees in the back yard or the barb wire fence. We got just enough snow to hide the froze-solid mud puddles. To make matters worse the snow was the loose, dry type of snow.

The other morning I was hurrying through my feeding routine and not really paying attention to what I was doing. Maybe the cold had my brain fogged up a little bit, but needless to say I messed up big time.

I broke ice in all of the water troughs. The water troughs in the horse barn were no big deal. I used the handle of my pitchfork to break ice so the ponies could get at the water. Then I headed out to the lot to break ice for some calves. The snow was soft and easy to move around in. Except I forgot the mud puddle around the big water tank was froze solid.

I was moving at a good clip when I stepped on that froze mud puddle. All at once my legs went flying and the pitchfork whacked me in the nose as I fell.

My head hit the ice and then the pitchfork whacked me in the jaw as it came back down to earth, I’d turned loose of it when I started falling as it whacked me the first time. The second time when it whacked me I thought it broke my jaw.

So there I laid, I guess I made a loud enough thud my wife in the very back of the horse barn came running. I was a bit dazed to be honest. I kind of had to think about it for a minute to explain to her what all just happened. I slipped, got whacked twice by the pitchfork and hit my head on the ice. I kind of had to regain all of my senses, it took a little bit.

Later that day my wife had to show the kids the big wallered out spot by the water trough where I flopped around like a fish out of water. They all had a good laugh at my misfortune. I didn’t admit to it, but sure I moved around a lot slower after busting my butt, it kind of ouched. I guess it’s a good thing I’ve got a hard head.

Spring can’t come fast enough. I’ve had all the cold, snow and ice I can stand, or lay on…..

James Lockhart lives near the Kiamichi mountains in southeast Oklahoma. He writes cowboy stories and fools with cows and horses.