Relative Something

I know I have lamented how wet things were here during autumn, and you’d think I’d be over it now that winter has finally made itself known in full, but I must admit to still having a gripe over all the water.

Cyndie made a run to the feed store in the truck to pick up bags of horse food and wood shavings yesterday before the next predicted snowfall event arrived. After offloading some things at the house, she was going to drive down to the barn to unload the bags of feed and shavings, and asked me if she should park the truck inside the barn since it was going to snow.

I recognized her question as a way to enlist me to move the snowplow blade that is on the ground just inside the big sliding doors of the barn.

I volunteered. “Sure, you can park in the barn. I’ll go down and move the plow out of the way.”

Except she couldn’t. I didn’t bother moving the plow because I couldn’t open the big doors. The saturated ground had heaved when it froze and was pushing the doors up off their rollers and had wedged them tight.

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Cyndie had already worked to scrape the ground beneath the small door earlier in the day so she could get it open.

The big doors aren’t going anywhere for a while.

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