Fred Remington, Smoke Signals (1905)
As far as adults on the ranch, there are five: Me, Husband#1, C.G., RanchHand and Wifey. #1's brother and a friend are involved in this story, but are not key players for my purposes. This is how it went down:
On Saturday, #1 went in to town to buy groceries and dog food for the pack trip on Sunday.
Shortly after #1 left, RanchHand came over. "Did #1 already leave?"
"Yes, I think so, if he's not over at the dog kennels," I said.
"Darn it, I wanted to catch him," RH said, "Wifey is making us BBQ chicken to take on our trip."
"Okay..." I wondered if RH thought #1 needn't have gone to town, what with the impending BBQ chicken. But I'll try not to read too much into it, given that the story gets funnier on its own.
"Well, I guess it'll be okay," RH said. "#1 usually brings canned food anyway."
"Yes, well, I'll let him know," I said. Excuse the abbreviated conversation, that is the gist and is all I can recall with a babbling four year old right here behind me.
#1 came home. I told him about the BBQ chicken. I also may have told him about my feeling about the chicken. Don't get me wrong, I'm not judging the chicken. I'm just saying, for four grown men, a batch of BBQ chicken isn't gonna last as long as they're going to need food. There was no gettin' around going in to town for food. Especially since when RH and/or C.G. cleaned out the closest camp near there, I don't believe they left so much as a can of chili.
All #1 said was, "I wonder what they're going to pack it in so it doesn't leak all over in the panniers."
Saturday night. #1 packed things up, two coolers of food, I might add, and then some, not including the BBQ chicken. He planned on being home on Tuesday. He wondered if he was taking--get this--too much food.
The guys left early Sunday morning.
On Tuesday, C.G. wonders to me if they took enough food. I told her #1 had gone to town and gotten groceries.
The guys didn't show up on Tuesday.
Today is Wednesday, and Wifey comes over. "Gosh I hope they have enough food!" she exclaims. "I only sent one thing of BBQ chicken." [I wonder how she cannot know, being that RH knew, that #1 went to the store for, gasp, FOOD].
"They have plenty of food," I say. "#1 went to the store right before they left. And who knows if his brother brought any?"
"Oh, well C.G. said he didn't bring any, and she was asking me how much food they took," Wifey goes on. "I tried to give RH some bologna, but he wouldn't take it. He only took the chicken."
"They have plenty of food, Wifey," I repeat. "#1 wouldn't go up there without enough food."
First topic:
FOOD: How Much To Take And Who To Tell About It.
Space is limited. Call now to reserve your seat.
Post Script: I know there is a lot of work to be done up where they were going. I am a bit worried that they are not yet back and it is now dark on Wednesday. But, I am not worried about how much food they have. And being nonchalant is my defense mechanism, because being home alone with two young boys I can't allow myself to worry too much. The practical details: four guys, two trucks, four horses, at least one cell phone with texting capabilities. If something happened, we would have surely heard about it by now.
Post Post Script: The guys are on their way home; #1 just sent me an email. The wonders of technology. Good thing, as this hour is too dark for smoke signals...
On Saturday, #1 went in to town to buy groceries and dog food for the pack trip on Sunday.
Shortly after #1 left, RanchHand came over. "Did #1 already leave?"
"Yes, I think so, if he's not over at the dog kennels," I said.
"Darn it, I wanted to catch him," RH said, "Wifey is making us BBQ chicken to take on our trip."
"Okay..." I wondered if RH thought #1 needn't have gone to town, what with the impending BBQ chicken. But I'll try not to read too much into it, given that the story gets funnier on its own.
"Well, I guess it'll be okay," RH said. "#1 usually brings canned food anyway."
"Yes, well, I'll let him know," I said. Excuse the abbreviated conversation, that is the gist and is all I can recall with a babbling four year old right here behind me.
#1 came home. I told him about the BBQ chicken. I also may have told him about my feeling about the chicken. Don't get me wrong, I'm not judging the chicken. I'm just saying, for four grown men, a batch of BBQ chicken isn't gonna last as long as they're going to need food. There was no gettin' around going in to town for food. Especially since when RH and/or C.G. cleaned out the closest camp near there, I don't believe they left so much as a can of chili.
All #1 said was, "I wonder what they're going to pack it in so it doesn't leak all over in the panniers."
Saturday night. #1 packed things up, two coolers of food, I might add, and then some, not including the BBQ chicken. He planned on being home on Tuesday. He wondered if he was taking--get this--too much food.
The guys left early Sunday morning.
On Tuesday, C.G. wonders to me if they took enough food. I told her #1 had gone to town and gotten groceries.
The guys didn't show up on Tuesday.
Today is Wednesday, and Wifey comes over. "Gosh I hope they have enough food!" she exclaims. "I only sent one thing of BBQ chicken." [I wonder how she cannot know, being that RH knew, that #1 went to the store for, gasp, FOOD].
"They have plenty of food," I say. "#1 went to the store right before they left. And who knows if his brother brought any?"
"Oh, well C.G. said he didn't bring any, and she was asking me how much food they took," Wifey goes on. "I tried to give RH some bologna, but he wouldn't take it. He only took the chicken."
"They have plenty of food, Wifey," I repeat. "#1 wouldn't go up there without enough food."
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First topic:
FOOD: How Much To Take And Who To Tell About It.
Space is limited. Call now to reserve your seat.
Post Script: I know there is a lot of work to be done up where they were going. I am a bit worried that they are not yet back and it is now dark on Wednesday. But, I am not worried about how much food they have. And being nonchalant is my defense mechanism, because being home alone with two young boys I can't allow myself to worry too much. The practical details: four guys, two trucks, four horses, at least one cell phone with texting capabilities. If something happened, we would have surely heard about it by now.
Post Post Script: The guys are on their way home; #1 just sent me an email. The wonders of technology. Good thing, as this hour is too dark for smoke signals...
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