I mean that quite literally. Along with a few days of unseasonably warm weather we are moving submarine-like through our water logged paddock with no patch of ground untouched by the lapping waters. I tried to take refuge on a tree stump but could only get my front end elevated, leaving the rear 50% slowly sinking into the evil ooze.
Nevermind, Jack and I are dry as a bone above the ankles and enjoying every moment of warmth on our backs. But we know winter has not finished with us yet. Yesterday a few impatient insects could be seen buzzing around the remaining snow banks, in a hurry to get the next season underway. The usual territorial battles in the avian world are ramping up as nesting season begins and of course the black and white gas dispensing creatures are now venturing forth. There was a fatality to one of their ranks on our front road and the resulting massive explosion of noxious fumes can be smelled for miles around.
This morning I was sorting through my breakfast hay, which the woman had placed atop a remaining crust of snow, when I began to experience an alarmingly loud bout of tinnitus in my left ear. Then I felt an unseen presence slowly tracking it's way down my ear canal. I tossed my head, I shook my ears violently, I clenched my teeth and pinned both ears against my neck. Nothing would stop the infernal buzzing and tickling. Jack, ever helpful, said "sonny if yer gonna take a fit then kinely do it away frum my brekfus." I went off in search of the woman.
She was ankle deep in the murky waters, raking away industriously in a futile effort to house clean our paddock before the return of the next snow. As she bent over to scoop another shovelful into the wheelbarrow, I nudged her firmly on the posterior. It got her attention immediately. "Gakkkk", she said, "what the &^%$%^& do you think you're doing?!" I repeated the ear shaking, teeth clenching and head tossing. She gawked at me, dumbfounded. I rubbed my left ear on a front leg and groaned. I could feel a tremendous urge to sneeze violently coming on. It burst forth in a blast of snorts and trumpets that left her peppered with various bits of nasal debris. She reeled back, one arm thrown in the air in a posture self defense.
Slowly, slowly, the light of comprehension began to dawn in her beady eyes. "Do you have something in your ear?" I stared at her through watery eyes, trying not to look to contemptuous at her less than stellar powers of deduction. She examined my right ear - nothing. Then she peered into the depths of my left ear. She reached in and extracted a small, white, slightly dusty looking insect. "It's a moth", she said,"how did that get in there?!" I have no idea when or how the thing decided to take up residence on, or rather in, my person but now I must remain vigilant against one more threat to my sanity (and aural health). It's always something.
I sighed and trudged back to my breakfast. I should say former breakfast - Jack had eaten every last scrap.