Relative Something

Cyndie and I did another couple of rounds spreading compost on the hay field yesterday.

After the second load had been dumped, I steered the Grizzly ATV from the hay field into the large paddock, stopping at the far gate. Hopping off, I unchained the gate and let it swing wide open while the horses were standing under the overhang of the barn, completely ignoring me. I then drove the ATV through the gate, making sure to pull far enough ahead so I could close the gate behind the trailer.

Hustling to pull the gate closed before any of the horses took notice, I spent an extra minute fiddling with the chain to get it untwisted and hooked around the post just right. When I turned around toward the Grizzly again, I was shocked to find there was no trailer there.

Imagine what that felt like. D’oh!

The trailer had come unlatched back in the hay field without me noticing, and I proceeded like nothing was amiss.

I had been so focused on dealing with the gate that I didn’t realize the trailer was missing. I had even purposely pulled ahead far enough after passing through the gate so it could close behind the trailer, without ever looking to see the trailer was no longer there.

Sheepishly, I undid the perfectly latched chain again and backed the ATV through the gate once more to return to the hay field and fetch the trailer. Geesh.

I’m sure glad there are no post-workday press conferences, because it would be really embarrassing trying to come up with a reasonable explanation for that strange bout of cluelessness.

Maybe I could blame the heat. The temperature reached 86°(F) for the high yesterday afternoon. Clearly, I wasn’t my usual sharp self.

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