I AM THE NEW FACE OF WHAT?

My sister and I have started keeping notes when we are into our Friday Night Cups (in our case-Bottles). The first reason was very sensible – to do list. We keep thinking of things that we forgot that still need to be done (because any size farm is never-ending chores). A tornado can throw you off track in so many ways. However, on one special evening, we came up with a new list:

Rachel: The new face of the Seven Dwarfs all rolled into one (oh lucky me).

Started simple enough, just talking about all my frickin aches and pains. (May have had something to do with the six major surgeries in less than 12 months – grr!) You would think that after 50+ years being around her, I would learn – don’t set yourself up stupid!

It began because she can reach the top of the big window curtain without a ladder of any size, I cannot. Thus “Shorty” started my list of seven.

The next was because I sit on the ground when I work outside, she does not. She squats because she still has knees that allow her to do so. Number two became “Squatty.”

The next two fell together since they rhymed: Dumpy, Frumpy. These two were the fault of another jerky stranger pulling in our driveway asking for gas (Happens all the time because the highway signs are wrong. Or the at least do not explain it well enough at the bottom of the off ramp. Gas is another 3 miles to the south in town, not at our farm – grr!) This guy happened to be cute and forty-ish, also had a wife and three little girls in the car that ran out of gas. Since I was still dressed in my “farm” attire (ripped up shorts, and dirty tee-shirt with sleeves and color cut off), I got elected to go help them out. We had an extra gas can that I had just filled a few days earlier for the mowers.

  • Got the can.
  • Took him back to the car.
  • Filled the tank, and he insisted on giving me $50. I tried to give it back as it was just too much, but he insisted (nice cutie).  I took it, and it goes into our side-of-beef fund.

When I returned to the porch (our game/party room), my sister was laughing hysterically at me. When questioned, she simply said, “Hey Dump, where’d ya get your frumpy clothes?” Tada – “Dumpy Frumpy.”

The next two also were discovered together. After getting all done with the gas incident, I began growing about how many times this happens. Sometime several times in a single day:

  • Gas
  • Directions
  • Food/water
  • The occasional or rare “I need to use your bathroom, please?!” (was a very cute old couple and the Misses and she couldn’t wait any longer.) “My motorcycle fell over, and I can’t pick it up?” (another oldie that probably would not have been on a two-wheeler, since he was walking with a cane and a limp and about 100 years old). Oh, and can’t forget the hang-glider that ended up down in the field.  It was amazing he didn’t hit the powerlines of the trees, especially since he was a newbie – Idiot!

As I was going on about the invisible HUGE sign with flashing red lights that must be on the top of our property somewhere; my sister started giggling again. I looked at her and just knew it was coming, “So, what’s with the giggles?” Her reply, “Snorky, Grumpy.” That was all she could get out before she burst into laughter. Ok, ok, I joined her.
The last was just added at the end to make it kind of sound like the Seven Dwarfs. However, it had to fit my personal physical and emotional status:

  1. Shorty
  2. Squaty
  3. Dumpy
  4. Frumpy
  5. Snorky
  6. Grumpy and
  7. YUCK!

Now I just need to draw up some characters to go with my names and I will be all set for a beautiful non-Disney story. Think I will make it about a weird old woman that can’t stop laughing at herself. Can hardly wait.

the seven dwarfs        painful old lady

You can also check me out at: www.helbergfarmstories.com for fun stories from our farm.
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