Fixing Fence

Another quiet Thursday evening, because Kirn is busy preparing for a busy spring. So I am slaving away in the kitchen, whipping up what is promising to taste as good as it smells – chicken quesadilla. Look out, Top Chef, Ashlee’s got a microwave and she’s not afraid to use the express 1 minute option. Nights when he gets home late sometimes take me back to yesteryear, reminding me of college when my fridge could consist of tortilla shells, turkey and shredded cheese for two weeks and I’d never starve.

Finally around 9 pm, he strolls in the house, completely covered in Lord knows what, but it smells fresh. I can tell he’s had it, spent from a long day of putting miles on that old Case tractor that I swear came down the assembly line the same year his great grandpa was born. You ladies know the one. It’s the tractor where the speed controls are still between a tortoise and a hair, sort of resembles an old space ship inside that needs WD-40 and smells like coffee and musk.

After throwing his clothes ON the hamper… not IN because that extra motion is very taxing after a long day (insert half grin and excessive eye roll here)…but I won’t push it tonight. After a “Hi Honey, how was your day” with those adorable dimples, I can’t help but be thankful for such a hard working man. But then he says it. Those words that you love to hate.

“Will you help me fix fence this weekend?”

This question has become quite familiar in my book of “Questions from your Farmer”. So I am well aware it’s going to be a long afternoon in the cold on a four wheeler built for one and probably a few note worthy spats that go something like this…

Kirn- “Can you hand me the stretchers?”
Ashlee – “You got it dude.” Takes a shot in the dark and hands him the fencing pliers with way too much confidence
Kirn- “Honney, the STRETCHERS” enunciating this word is going to help me find something that sounds extremely uncomfortable
Ashlee – “Sorry- this one?” Still not right
Kirn gets up and grabs it himself…then I get upset because I blew my shot at ever knowing what the stretchers were and he’s annoyed (so I think) that he could have done this job alone after all.

But, because I never want him to stop asking me to help, I oblige and start to think of a few good jokes to tell along the fence line on Saturday morning.

Saturday morning comes much too early and we can see our breath as we are loading up the four wheeler with all of the important supplies to make a fence look supreme…this includes coffee. Don’t be silly girls, just because you’re wearing enough layers to make it difficult to move in a normal manner doesn’t mean you can’t drink your favorite latte in the meantime. Plus, Kirn knows my coffee is like euphoria in a cup – I need it. 

As we take off into the field, the hectic noise of the farm starts to dim and a busy lifestyle seems to be behind us, if only for a few hours. The cold air suddenly seems quite refreshing and hanging on tight to stay warm feels kind of romantic. As I am typing this, I feel a bit ridiculous knowing he is definitely not thinking the same things as me. I imagine his thoughts go something like this…”So, I am fixing fence now, and if the rain holds off I can go get task 2, 3, 4 and 5 done today so tomorrow I have time to do 6 and 7. Hopefully there is enough fuel in the skid loader to clean the lots up next week…” You get it, man stuff.

But even though Kirn has probably not realized it yet, I am considering today a date. Because for three hours, we get the world to ourselves. We get to talk about all of life’s happenings with no distractions. (Who needs a dinner for two in the big city?) Without even realizing it, we will plan out the next twenty years of life.. our dreams, our goals, our worries and doubts. Without even knowing, we will not only be working on the fence that we came out here to fix, but we will also be mending a little bit of our distracted souls. Remembering exactly why we chose to tackle this journey of life together. Mending fences and hearts one barbed wire reel at a time.




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