Random Rural Sanity Savers Called To Order

I tried this morning to get my farmchicky girlfriends within a 30-mile radius to join me in a very important meeting... at Dutch Brothers. But to no avail.

I am as predicted still working on my endless laundry tackle from yesterday. Good news, though. I found Sarah's lucky pants three-quarters of the way down hamper number 410. She has been singularly unlucky since the day she took them off in a huff in the laundry room. I'm not sure, actually, why she calls them "lucky," since every time she wears them she has a spectacular accident.

(Sarah's middle name is not Grace. Grace's first name is, but it didn't work.)

So the lucky pants are psychedelic, as all lucky pants should be. The pattern is a swirly paisley in pink, blue, yellow and orange. Her former lucky pants were orange bell bottoms with big brown flowers on them. This girl has style. Anyhoo the first lucky pants went the way of the dump after Sarah ripped them out from waist to rear pocket during an Olympic attempt at exiting the tire swing using nothing other than the immense momentum of the 40-foot swinging arc.

I got in big trouble for telling her I had to throw those away. Doncha know I should have framed them for her wall? This is exactly what she suggested when I insisted they were not able to be repaired.

The current lucky pants I thought I had buried after she skidded on the gravel and tore her kneecap open in a wound so gruesome that the school must've been afraid to call me. Because they didn't call, they just put a big bandaid with the sticky part mostly on open wound and ground-in gravel bits. So I had the supreme pleasure that day of soaking, picking out the gravel, considering home schooling.

I thought to myself, these darn lucky pants give the baby girl too much confidence. I can't afford another trip to the ER over lucky pants chutzpah (not sure if I use that word right. anyone?) So I buried the pants. But not deep enough. I honestly had forgotten about them as well as I could with Sarah asking for them every other minute. So I accidentally unearthed them and then washed them last night... discovered a new hole in the knee region... told Sarah she'd have to choose new lucky pants... lost that argument... and then fought with the iron and a flocked red heart-shaped patch for half the morning.

So she wore them to school today. With a striped purple and green top of course. I better not go to Dutch Bros after all. I'll probably be needed at home when the school calls.