Last weekend was the Smithville Rodeo and we had made plans to attend on Saturday night. It was WAY too hot to go both nights. So Saturday morning Ben decided to trim all the trees in the front yard with his chainsaw. I do not understand why he decided this was necessary. We've lived here for nearly four years and he's never expressed any interest in tree-trimming before. I think he just wanted to use his chainsaw. On a ladder. Let's just stop and think about how dangerous that is. Do you know what would happen if he fell off a ladder with a running chainsaw? I couldn't handle the possible scenarios in my mind, so I stayed in the house, refused to watch him out the window, and tried to drown out the ominous sound of the chainsaw with music. I do not want to be a widow with two small children.
Around noon Patience was having some kind of wierd meltdown so I decided to try to put her down for an early nap. I was lying down with her and she had just gone to sleep when my phone rang. I looked and saw that it was Ben. Wierd. He was outside. Why didn't he just come in and get me?
I sneaked out of Patience's room and stepped out onto the front porch to a strange and confusing sight. Tree limbs everywhere, Ben walking across the yard leading Joetta's mare, and Joetta sitting under a tree, dirt all over her shirt, looking dazed and confused.
I rushed (well, waddled) over to Joetta as fast as I could. Ben followed with the mare.
"What happened?" I asked.
Ben shook his head. "I don't know. I came down off the ladder and saw her horse running accross the yard. I didn't even see Joetta till a second ago."
I bent down to try to get Joetta up. Her arm was hanging loose and her shoulder looked kind of funny.
"Joetta, do you know what happened?"
She looked at me and shook her head, mumbling something about not knowing how she got knocked down.
"Joetta, I think your horse spooked and knocked you down." I tried to explain as I got her up and walked her into the house while Ben took the horse back to the barn. She looked at me in confusion as I helped her up the porch steps and said, "What happened? I don't even know what happened." I told her I thought her horse ran her over.
We got inside and I settled her on the couch then went for the phone to call Debbie at the fire department so they could send someone to look at that shoulder. Joetta was clearly a little confused and in some pain. She asked me again what happened, and I explained again that I thought she had an accident with her mare.
Within a few minutes Steve and Donald were at the house with an ambulance, Debbie close behind. There were quite a few people packed into our living room at that point. They were trying to get Joetta's arm in a sling and find out if she wanted to go to the hospital by ambulance or have someone drive her. I was trying to get Rebecca, Joetta's daughter-in-law on the phone (of course we go to church with Joetta's son and daughter-in-law) and couldn't get through on her cell phone. I had to call about seven people to track her down, but I finally found her and she said she was on her way.
About that time Patience woke up from all the commotion and was very confused about what was going on in our house. I sat her in a chair and told her to be still and stay out of the way. She kept pointing at Joetta saying, "Shirt, dirty." She was deeply concerned about the dirt on Joetta's shirt.
A few minutes later my friend Zondra burst through the front door. "What happened? Is Sarah having the baby? Are Ben and Patience okay?"
The joys of living on the highway. We have no secrets.
Zondra had been on her way home from Mena, passed our house, saw the ambulance, and was obviously concerned for our well-being. We have wonderful friends and neighbors, and I really mean that.
Zondra joined the fray as we all tried to take care of Joetta while we waited for Rebecca to arrive. Joetta was getting more and more disoriented, and every few minutes she would say, "What happened? I don't even know what happened. Can somebody tell me what happened?" We told her repeatedly what we thought had happened, but she couldn't seem to remember anything.
Rebecca arrived, they got Joetta loaded into the car, they headed to the emergency room in Mena and people slowly emptied from my house. It had been an interesting couple of hours. Ben and I sat on the couch discussing the morning's events while Patience kept repeating, "Dirty. Shirt. Shirt. Dirty." She is such a clean freak. Ben headed back out to the yard to play with his chainsaw.....I'm sorry, I meant trim trees, and I went back to doing whatever it was I do around here. Walk around being pregnant. Drop things accidentally and stare at them, trying to decide if its worth it to try and bend over and pick it up. Usually I just kick it out of the way.
Later that afternoon Ben headed to the rodeo grounds to help the other volunteer fire department guys park cars. Patience and I dolled up in our cowgirl boots a couple of hours later and followed. On my way I called our pastor's wife to put Joetta on the prayer list at church.
"Oh, yes, I heard about that," Patrice said. "But I thought it happened at the rodeo last night."
I laughed and straightened out the details, wondering how in the world Patrice already knew about it. They live way up on the mountain. Guess someone called them.
I pulled up to the fire truck parked outside the rodeo grounds parking lot and rolled down my window.
"Hey, Dwayne. Ben told me he saved me a spot by the gate. Can I go on up there?"
"Yep! Yep!" Dwayne nodded his head vigorously. "You go right on up there! You don't need to be walkin' that far and haulin' that little'un in your condition!"
There are perks to living in a very small community and being married to one of the volunteer fire fighters.
I pulled right up to the gate and parked in my special parking place reserved for very large pregnant women. Remember, I am now roughly the size of a planet and any day I expect to see my own moon orbiting around me. Oh wait, I already have one. Her name is Patience. And she orbits around me continuously, though somewhat sporadically.
I got out of the car and was greeted by my handsome husband, looking official in his red shirt with his radio clipped to his belt. We chatted for a minute, then Patience and I went to find seats while he finished up his duties.
A few minutes into the rodeo he came and sat next to me. He glanced sideways at me and grinned.
"Hot, isn't it?"
I snorted. "You think you're hot. Try being me." I wiped sweat from my forehead and wondered why I had bothered to wear make-up. It was already long gone.
He glanced at my planet-sized belly and grinned again.
"What?" I scowled at him.
He chuckled. "Well, right after you came in here Donald came and told me that some random person went up to him and asked if the pregnant woman talking to the fire fighter needed an ambulance or something because she was going to have her baby."
I sighed. Of course. Kind of them to be concerned.
Ben rubbed my back. "Why don't you go to the concession stand and get some burgers and drinks? I'll watch Patience."
I nodded and heaved my pregnant self off the bench. While I was standing in line at the concession stand I had a nice conversation with a stranger. I'm due June 26th. No, it isn't twins. Yes, we did an ultrasound. Yes, I've been very hot. Have a nice evening. Blah, blah blah.
I stepped up to the window and the lady working it (I can't remember her name - she's on the fire department) looked at me in amazement.
"You mean you ain't had that kid yet? I thought you done had it. I seen balloons on your mailbox last week!"
Balloons on my mailbox? What? Oh, yes, that was my birthday party. I straightenend out the confusion and ordered our hamburgers. She looked at my belly and wagged her head back and forth.
"You better hurry up and have that kid. You look like you're about to pop!"
Sure. I'll get right on that. Just a moment while I go give birth because everyone seems to think thats what I should be doing.
As I was walking back to our seat with a couple of burgers and drinks sort of balanced on my belly (it is sort of handy), I overheard someone we go to church with giving a wrong account of what had happened to Joetta that afternoon. I stopped and butted my way into the conversation to straighted things out. She listened intently, nodding her head as I told the story.
"I'm so glad you stopped! Now I have the real story!" She hustled away, probably to spread the new version of the story.
The rest of the evening was fairly uneventful. No one else thought I was about to go into labor, and no one was injured, as far as I know. Patience had a grand time:
We can't get over how cute she is in boots:
She had fun climbing the fence:
And she got to go into the arena with Daddy for some kid thing they did:
If you're wondering why there are no pictures of me its because I was perspiring heavily and I felt gross. Okay, forget about perspiring. I was sweating. I used to perspire because that's what ladies do, but now I may as well call it what it is. I flat-out sweat like a man. There. I said it.
Then we went to church the next morning, where I heard from numerous people that they had been praying for me all afternoon the previous day because they drove by our house and saw the ambulance and thought I was having the baby. Or they thought I dislocated my shoulder because they heard something about an accident at our house involving a dislocated shoulder and they thought it was me.
Joetta, by the way, ended up with a broken and dislocated shoulder and a concussion. She had surgery today and she's doing very well. I actually went and picked up her mail and took it to her this afternoon. Yes, in Smithville, America, if you go into the post office and ask for someone else's mail they will actually give it to you. Probably because they know you, they know the person you are taking the mail to just had surgery because of an accident that happened in your yard, etc., etc.
What I learned from the incident:
1) News travels fast. Doesn't matter if its correct or not. It travels.
2) We have no secrets living on the highway. But I actually already knew that.
3) Causing your neighbor to be run over by a horse in your yard is actually a very good way to make friends.
4) I am so large that total strangers are concerned for my well-being. I actually already knew that, too.
And that's all, folks.
Had to have been April in the concession stand. You wrote it and it sounded just like her. I could close my eyes and see her talking. :)
ReplyDelete