Friday, June 27, 2014

The Griswolds catch their Horses and bring them home.

Our family has a strong affection for the Griswolds of National Lampoon fame. So often during those movies about going on a holiday, putting up Christmas Lights, having the whole family over for Christmas dinner – instead of laughing until the tears roll down our cheeks like other people – we just nodded our heads and thought “been there”! Recently, as the popularity of that series of movies has waned we have found ourselves feeling less and less affiliated with the Griswold club. But then, something happens that slams us right back into the familial arms of Clark, Ellen, Rusty and Audrey.

This time it started with my son getting two horses. The horses get out for the first time to be caught (eventually) for Brad as he works in Regina and wasn't home, by his Auntie Sharon and two female EA's from Balcarres and some guy on a quad,. This was funny enough, but one should never ever laugh!

The second time is on a day when Brad is home with his boys. The horses are there before lunch, but when he goes outside for his after lunch smoke, the horses are gone. Myth No 1: They can't have gone far. This was shortly debunked after driving aimlessly around the farm and neighbourhood and no sign of the horses. However, it was muddy, so there were prints. Myth No 2: I'll just follow the hoof prints and catch up with them. That lasted about an hour. Then, as his gas gauge slowly sinks to E, he realizes that he needs to call in the Cavalry. Myth No 3: Dad is always anxious to be the cavalry. Dad does head out to be helpful in locating the horses, but his workaholism soon takes over, plus he also is really low on gas – so he bales to go to the far end of Fort San Road to do a job. The horses had been located but now, what to do with them?

Doing his best cowboy imitation, Brad manages to get a halter on the quiet little one. The little boys in the truck cheer. He then manages to hoist himself atop the “quiet little one” in order to try and catch (coax?) the larger not so quiet one. He is promptly “ejected” from the horse's back (I have no details of how), but eventually he does get both horses, tied to the back of his truck. He heads back home. It is slow going. The little boys are quickly bored. All Parents know that there is NOTHING WORSE than being in a small closed-in space with two young siblings and it is worse yet when they are brothers! Brad decides he needs to make a better plan.

Myth No 4: Calling Mom is always a good idea -- she is the smart one. I head out with dubious directions as he really isn't sure of where he is anyway. North of Lipton. Okay so north east right left – these types of words are all meaningless Greek to me. I managed to get the information to turn right and go north from his farm. Having lived on that farm for 36 years – I do know which way is north from it. “Go past Onraits, turn and go left at O'Connors”. Ummm, okay...I have no idea where either of those farm yards are (Yes I know I have been to each of them, but who pays attention when they are taking a nice drive and it was likely 20 years ago and I can hardly remember where I park my car in the parking lot anymore!!) But...I decide to just go for it. How hard can it be? I have GPS (which has no idea where the Onrait and O'Connor farms are either)!

My instincts were right. He calls back and says don't go past O'connors, turn ("right/left/east/north?????") at Onraits and get on the grid that GOES PAST PLETZs. I know where that is!! No problemo. I am on my way to the rescue.

The plan is that Brad will take my truck, go to a neighbours and get a horse trailer, come back to his truck and put the horses in the trailer and we all go home and live happily ever after. (That was Myth No 5 by the way). I get past the Pletzs, and onto the Lipton Grid going some direction but he has included “towards Balcarres” in the instructions so I get it and all goes pretty much as planned until I come to the tricky part “go up to the big curve in the Lipton Grid and keep right and I am right there”. That is exactly what I did. I got up to the big curve and kept right which took me off the grid and onto a secondary road which, a couple of kms down, is under water. We have a really big truck, the road is really narrow, but I manage to get turned around and head back to the Lipton Grid – stay on the grid around the curve and there they are. A white truck, harried father, bored tired excited hungry thirsty and dirty little boys and two horses smirking at all of us as they are tied to the back of the truck. Just as my truck flashes “low fuel” on my info panel!

Brad and I have been communicating all this time using our cell phones so I am sure to grab mine, put it in my pocket and Brad and I make the trade. His final instructions are to keep going, he will catch up with us, just go about 3 -5 km/hr and go back exactly the way I came.

My first little lesson is that the mark between 0 and 20 km isn't indicating 5km/hr and the horses protest quite a bit at the pace. Owen insists that I am hurting them, so I slow down, secretly thinking “smirk at that losers!” So once I know the right pace the horses follow along just fine.

Owen wants gum. I tell him I don't have gum, but go ahead pull everything out of my purse and see if I have any, which he is doing anyway so he might as well be following orders. After 300 “how much longer” interspersed with 500 “when is Daddy coming?” amid untold hundreds of little upsets regarding who gets to sit where, window open/shut, elbow nudging, hair pulling etc etc – I feel that it would be prudent to give Brad a call and see just where we stand with all of this. I put my hand in my pocket and.....pull out the fob for the truck! I am pretty sure this means if Brad stops the truck he won't be able to start it again. It also means that my cell phone is in that truck, that which will shortly become useless to the driver. I glance at the contents of my purse Owen has strewn around and see the second fob for the truck. The real meaning of the phrase “well and truly screwed” comes to me with blinding clarity.

“Oh f**k” I blurt out in horror. Apologizing to two pairs of serious big blue eyes for saying a bad word does take the edge off panic. I pleaded it was an accident and really bad of me and then they listed the several things that have been done to them after similar accidental occurrences. Nothing to do but carry on with the horses, which I do.

All stops are pulled out now! These kids are done done DONE with this nonsense and really, who can blame them. I just agree with everything they say in regard to tired, hungry, bored, but I am really in agreement when we get to thirsty. It occurs to all three of us that we are, literally, dying of thirst. We take our mind off it by deciding what the other two should do if eg. Gramma dies first, or Owen, or Declan. Declan decides death sounds interesting enough and punches himself in the head and falls over “dead” on his seat. He is quiet and still for nearly 10 seconds, the longest he has ever been, and it is a blessed relief that Owen and I savour.

And then Owen finds a Gaterade on the floor of the back seat. The cheering and applauding are deafening. After a few false starts in opening it, I snarl “give it to me!” and remove the heat shrunk plastic around the top with a screw driver. Then of course the big issue of who gets the first drink has to be decided. We toss around the ideas of brute strength vs age vs rock/paper/scissors when Declan starts to bawl. Owen and I roll our eyes and tell him he can have the first drink. He hoists the bottle to his mouth lowers it and starts to cry in earnest. Owen grabs it and heatedly informs Gramma that we always have to take the foil cover under the lid off. “Off every Gaterade all the time” and really, poor little kid, he does have a struggle with me and my general ignorance of anything that is important. Foil removed Declan swigs down a huge mouthful. Owen swigs down an even bigger mouthful. Gramma gets a sip. Then it is the millilitre monitoring of each drink thereafter to ensure that one does not have more than the other.

My initial thirst slaked somewhat, I conclude that I really need a different kind of drink, and a strong one! Soon! It is time to humble myself (even more) and take action.

I stop on the road and wait for somebody to come along. Who does not have a cell phone these days ?Well I don't at the moment but that is an aberration of the the norm. I watch and pray that a complete stranger comes along. A white car slows down, opens the window and...it is somebody I know damn it! After as brief an explanation as I can make, I ask to use her cell, but it is hooked up to her car . Anyway, she is kind enough to let me try and phone Brad – no luck – and against every fibre of my being I choke out Murray's phone number. He is the last one one wishes to speak too when in a situation like this. In the meantime a truck comes up behind us. A farm truck. The farmer gets out and trudges up to us.

My friend tells me that Murray is on the phone and so the conversation through her open window into her car's speaker starts with me listening patiently to the assigning of blame as to whose fault this is (mine) who didn't listen when he said put the second fob back in his pocket (I didn't), who had to quit what he was doing and drive back from the far end of Fort San Road with a paid employee to discover that the second fob wasn't in the house (he did) who didn't have her cell phone (me) and who is generally too stupid to live (that would also be me). All the while I am having a signal and speak conversation with the farmer who says he will get his other truck that is hooked up to his horse trailer and take my horses home. I tell Murray, to Jackie's suppressed laughter, to tell Brad that Thomas (the farmer) will rescue me and I am bringing the horses home. Good Bye!!

We are saved. The boys and I see the light at the end of the tunnel. The sun comes out. Birds sing. Woodland creatures scamper around us in delight. Ah, thank you kind Thomas the Farmer.

When I next speak with Brad, (he has gotten a ride with the friendly neighbour who WOULD have let him borrow his horse trailer), we just have to laugh. The horses, once back in the corral, are fed and then Gramma is driven to her truck and we all go to our own homes and live happily ever after.

Except that I have to put $140.00 gas into my truck before I can get to the happily ever after part.

/bye

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