Filet mignon, UPS men, and ticks
Today I received a call from our local UPS office, saying I had a package to pick up. Why do I have to pick up my packages, you ask? One of my dogs bit my fabulous/hottie UPS man and now I must pick up all packages at the office. *Sigh* Now he and I cannot linger over converstaion while I check out his slick, bald head and his tight buns.
Anyhoo...I dutifully drove to the office, where naturally a different hottie works at the desk and gives me my package. Holy Moly it is a box of Omaha Steaks! I had naturally thought Secret Agent Man had ordered yet more secret agenty stuff for me to pick up. But no! We now have Filet Mignon! Sweet!
This most wonderful package turned out to be a thank you gift from City Girl and her hubs. You see, City Girl came to stay at our house with her lovely three children. They are city folks and were not acquainted with tractors, chickens, crazy dogs, cattle, etc..... So, we gave them the short lesson on country life. This including tractor driving lessons, blackberry picking, feeding cows and chickens, and walking down to the meadow.
It was all so marvelous.
Until....City Girl emailed me that when she got home she had a tick on her unmentionable area. She sends me steak and I gift her with a tick on her cha-cha. What an unfair trade-off.