By Colin Williams It’s
two in the morning and the weather radio sounds off . Storms are rolling in from the west, a few carrying something of a punch. “Colin,” Paula asks, “do
you think we should bring the horses in?” “Nay, they’ll be fi ne,” I respond, as I roll over and set le back in. T en it starts. First with the sighs, initially faint but growing louder when I don’t respond. T en progressing into “Honey, are you asleep?” Of course whispered the fi rst time, but the second and third times progressively louder until a response is forced. “You’re not going back to sleep, which means I won’t either, unless we bring in those darn horses, are you?” “Nooo,” she replies, giggling a bit.
I crawl out of bed, fussing a bit, but follow her out the door. T is
scenario has replayed itself many times through the years, with the same debate each time. I contend the horses are bet er off outside during bad weather; Paula insists they are safer inside. I would like to tell you aſt er many years of having this discussion I have persuaded her over from the “dark side,” but I can’t. It’s just one of those debates you fi nally just agree to disagree, even if she’s wrong. I recall one weekend aſt ernoon when the weather radio barked a storm warning capable of damaging winds and hail. Paula, of course,
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interpreted the warning to mean it was bearing down on the farm, and the horses needed the safety of a roof. “Trust me, darlin’,” I said, “the horses will be fi ne.” Rather than “You’re right, honey.” I got “the look,” worse yet, the stink-eye. I know the best course of action following the stink-eye: follow directions. A mad dash for halters and lead ropes ensued. As we ran toward the pasture, the rain began pelting us and soaking our clothes. T e horses were already chillin’ under the lean-to, surely won- dering what all the hubbub was about. As we hurried the confused
PART EIGHT
When he fell for a woman with horses, this dude had no idea how it would change his life.
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