Ivy, my longarm machine, decided she needed a break, and went on a mission to self-destruct Tuesday afternoon. I called the guys at Nolting (have I mentioned how much I love them?) for help, and after trying some things over the phone, we decided that she was really being serious, and needed more help than they could provide long distance.
So, My Cowboy and I got up well before dawn Wednesday morning, did all the chores really early (which confused the animals no end), and got on the road to Hiawatha, Iowa, to the Nolting factory, with Ivy riding comfortably in the back seat of my truck.
Now, mind you, it’s a 4 and a half hour drive one way, so that gave us lots of time in the truck together, so My Cowboy had lots of stories to tell. Let me just say that today, my face and stomach muscles are sore from so much laughing!
At one point, my cell phone rang, and he took it upon himself to answer it and pretend to be my professional answering service. Thank goodness it was just my friend, Victoria, and she’s used to him, so he didn’t ruin my reputation with anyone else.
He had the Nolting repair guys in hysterics over suggestions on how to market their machines to potential customers. They were about to hire him for help with sales, I think, but at the last minute realized that might not be such a good idea after all. I heard one of them say, “It’s a good thing his wife has such a great sense of humor!” See? They can tell what I have to put up with on a daily basis.
On the way home, the sun was shining, the truck was nice and warm, and I’d been up for a long time and I was getting sleepy driving. I mentioned that I’d like to just pull over and take a nap, but My Cowboy took it as a personal challenge to keep me awake with even funnier stories than I’d already been hearing. So instead of having trouble driving because I was sleepy, I was having trouble driving because I couldn’t see through my tears of laughter!
We got back to town in time for me to make it to my local guild’s regular meeting, and Ivy is all fixed and back in business today. And just so you don’t completely miss out on all the laughs, I’ll leave you with one of his stories:
“I think I wanna learn to sprechen the Dutch.
I mean, I already know all the important phrases, like ‘Offen mit die lederhosen, Fraulein,’ but I’d like to learn a lot more.
Then I’ll be ready to hit the big city and go to one o’ them care-okie places and spiel me out some ’99 Luft Balloons’ and win me a big prize.
I’d win enough money that I could afford to take you out fer our anniversary to that there Golden Corral. And don’t you worry . . . you can just belly up to that ol’ buffet and have anything you want. It’s on me.
And after that, we could get a bottle of apple wine and go for a romantical drive through the country, and I could show you some stuff, and we could look at the stars.
And then . . . well, I don’t wanna tell all the secrets just yet. I still got a few tricks up my ol’ sleeve I’ll save for the special occasion.
You might wanna be thinkin’ about just what underthings you’ll need to be wearin’ on this excursion. Get online and shop fer somethin’. I’ll have enough prize money, I think we can afford that AND the dinner, too.”
When I’ve managed to gather enough air to squeak out the statement, “But we don’t even HAVE an anniversary!”, he continues . . .
“You just gotta go and squash everything, dontcha? If you keep up that attitude, you just may never GET an anniversary!”
Have you ever laughed so much you had to take ibuprofen?