Today's Mortifying Moment

It's been a gorgeous sunny spring day here in Bear River Valley. Squirrel headed to work early this morning leaving me to enjoy some solitude and some half-assed plans to be productive. Weeding, spading and hoeing were all on my mental to-do list as were sweeping cobwebs off windows and folding laundry. Then I planned to hike up to the god-forsaken water tank to make sure all was well with the supply. But the sun streaming through the bedroom window and some spring fever friskiness distracted me, and I decided to put my productivity on hold for a bit to try out one of my new purchases from Portland.

A half-hour...oh, alright, maybe an hour....or two...later I was energized, calm and focused and proceeded to get to work clearing giant thistles out of the flower beds. The heat on my back felt good as I dug and pulled and swore I'd never let the weeds get that out of hand again.

We are very isolated here. Our closest neighbor is at least a half-mile away. A busy day on the road in front of our little old house is two cattle trucks and a car. For a girl who likes to run around naked singing ABBA songs at the top of her lungs, this remoteness works wonderfully.

So it's always a surprise when someone stops by. This afternoon I noticed a car I'd never seen before drive by. Then again going the opposite way. It stopped just past the house and a tall handsome man I didn't recognize got out. He was looking for someone named Jim. I didn't know Jim, but I ran in and grabbed the cordless phone for him to use. Unfortunately I had left it off its base for too long and the battery was dead, so I invited him in to use the old-fashioned phone tethered to the wall in the kitchen.

I pointed to the door and waited in the living room while he used the phone. I heard him repeating some directions the person on the other end was giving him, and he said he'd be there in a few minutes. There was a pause, and then the stranger laughed - a high-pitched nervous chuckle that didn't sound like it should have come from his body. He hung up the phone and exited the kitchen quickly. His face was flushed, and he barely looked at me as he mumbled "Thanks" and hurried out the door. I figured he must have been really late to make such a hasty exit. Feeling a little tired, I walked into the kitchen to make some coffee and saw just what he must have seen as he turned to hang up the phone:



I wonder what he would have done if I had offered him some coffee?