Hard work. Big Rewards. Bigger blessings. Life on a South Dakota ranch.
Taken to the Cleaners
Our beautiful fall day two days ago was spent outside just enjoying our day. I saddled up Speed for the Wild Child and she rode to her heart’s content while I filled some grain boxes, cleaned up some planters, and just putted around outside. The weather was amazing.
We have had an interesting last few days, but not how one would expect! My cowboy sent some pants to the cleaners for a blast of heavy starch. Now to really understand the story, you must know that the cleaners is 110 miles from home. We can’t just run them downtown. We have no downtown. We are in the middle of nowhere / everywhere– depending on your outlook. Back on task, we dropped the pants off at the cleaners a week ago while we were in the Hills on business. In doing so, we realized that they would probably be there for quite some time until we were back that way.
Living in a small community has LOTS of benefits, ONE of them being friends who ask “do you need anything in the hills today?” Silly thing to ever ask. Someone ALWAYS needs something. Well our something was to have the pants picked up at the cleaners. Not a problem. The pants would be back in town on Friday afternoon. This was awesome as this week we have to head to watch our daughter in the state volleyball tournament. Everyone needs good ole heavy starched jeans to watch volleyball… Don’t they?
The pants made it safely to the town where our daughter goes to high school, which is still 35 miles from home. The deliverer called and told me he would just bring them out to us in the morning as he was coming this way anyway. Perfect. Then he called back and said that he would just throw them in our car at the school. Perfect. The third call was to tell us that since school was just about out that he would just meet our daughter and give them to her. Not so perfect, I replied, as she has practice right after school meaning that he would have to wait for three more hours. He didn’t think that was perfect either so he was back to bringing them out. Once again, perfect. The last call was that he decided to go ahead and drop them off in our car. Did she have the maroon car. Yep. So the plan was made.
Our daughter got home from school/practice and during supper her dad asked “So, did you bring in my pants?” She was confused as she had NO idea what he was talking about. We explained that there was supposed to be several pair of pants left in her car. Nope. Was she sure? Yep. Better run out and check. She did and nope; no pants. We called the deliverer of said pants. He had put them in the front seat of an older maroon Buick since the back seat was full of what looked like suitcases. We drive a maroon Mercury. No one had any idea who might drive an older maroon Buick. Our daughter was pretty sure that no one drove a maroon car at all, except for her, and that the only Buick was dark blue. The search was on.
We called and made inquiries with anyone we could think of. Finally the Big Guy consented to letting me put out a “Lost Pants” facebook post. You can only imagine the comments this got. My brother posted to tell me he thought I was past the stage in my life that I needed to look for my lost pants in the back seat. Funny guy. I replied they weren’t my pants anyway, they were the Big Guy’s. My friends wanted to know why the Big Guy had to send his pants to the cleaner and why his wife wasn’t taking care of things at home. The ribbing continued. Still no pants. My friends were sharing the post with more people. Still no pants. We had given them up for lost.
Monday rolled around and our daughter’s economics teacher asked if we had found the pants. One of her classmates perked up. By gosh he had some pants in the front seat of his car, but he figured they were his dad’s pants and he had left that car at home. Yes– he drives a dark blue Buick. To make this incredibly long story a little shorter, I will just tell you now. He had the pants. He brought that car to school yesterday. The pants are now home. All is well.
Moral of the story? No idea. But extremely grateful for people who pick up our laundry and deliver it, even if they are color blind. Also extremely grateful for small communities who are all looking out for each other, even if it is just trying to find our lost pants. Lastly, incredibly grateful that we are indeed WAY past the stage in our life where we potentially could have lost our pants in the back seat of a car, which by the way, NEVER happened! EVER. SERIOUSLY. Stop laughing. NEVER.