Today, I enjoyed meeting blogging friends in person. And they learned that I have an uncanny ability to talk and talk….and talk. It reminded me of this post I never published.
Boss man is….well…. How is a verbose woman to admit such a fate?
Let me try again.
He is….a man of ….of……. a man of few words. There, I said it, I married the strong-silent type. You can send your condolences to Rural Route 2.
You know the type, whose actions speak louder than words.
He will just stare down an unsuspecting soul who utters nonsense….usually me.
A few summers ago….
We were expecting a crop adjuster to declare our dryland crops demise. Mr. Crop Adjuster requested Boss Man drive him to each field to be surveyed–to which Boss Man agreed. Poor Boss Man– Small Talk Time–not at the top of Boss Man’s favorite pass times.
Now Boss Man will take over this post-for this man of few words does NOT appreciate me putting words in his mouth (mis-quoting him–innocently enough. I occasionally…often…ok, ok, almost always expand his few words to capture the innuendo of his communication–and may or may not completely mis-interpret what he said. A certain verbose wife just went into overdrive. Here is the Story:
Truck. Crop Adjuster. Pivots. Corn. Irrigation. Dryland. Same.
Well, Boss Man is not here so I will risk telling the story:
While driving along the road Mr. Crop Adjuster comments on how he has not seen a single irrigation system turned off for the past week. In Mr. Crop Adjuster’s opinion irrigation ‘did not do a thing for the corn–it was a waste’
I feel sorry for Mr. Crop Adjuster because I know Boss Man just sat there in silence.
Boss Man waited for the right time to say his few words. “So your telling me that this dryland corn (pointing to a half section with dryland corners) does not look any different from that irrigated circle of corn?” Mr. Crop Adjuster, “Well I guess they do look different!” bada bing bada boom!
Mr. Crop Adjuster must have wanted to ‘Crop’ his pants! I pity him…And admire Boss Man’s ability to wield words with precision.
I cringe knowing Boss Man continued driving from field to field without tension busting small talk.
He let that adjuster sit in his ‘Crop’ as he toured of our dryland drought destruction.
I think we will take my truck to church this week.