Part of ranch chores is choosing a day to bring in firewood, as mama likes her toes warm. The men are doing cow chores and I have finished the immediate inside tasks, so I head out to start the log loading process.
I am filling the wheelbarrow for the last load and thinking of lunch and dinner menus, laundry, and how I dislike housework. Of course, I am not paying attention and soon hear the sound of shifting wood as I pull the next log from the pile. Decision time: run and pretend I hear nothing or try to minimize the shifting log pile mess by holding it in place. I opt to not hear the avalanche that occurs and walk out the door.
Being a smart woman, I stroll away with convenient hearing and take my load to the house. I roll the wheelbarrow next to the stove and take the first piece off the load. Tossing it on top of the pile, I again hear that shifting wood sound. I watch in horror as the neatly stacked woodpile leans forward into the full wheelbarrow and stops.
Bad news comes next as the pile explodes from the center of the stack and logs spit out like hot popcorn. The entire pile has moved just enough that I cannot do anything but sit and wait for the Head Rancher to lend a helpful hand.
As I take the empty wheelbarrow out to the woodshed, I reflect on how life is full of paybacks, and I just got spanked. Not only do I have extra time invested in this fiasco, but I now have two places to clean up. I lose.