Really. I have no idea what I was thinking going to WalMart after noon on a Sunday. It hit me as soon as I pulled into the parking lot. Way too many people. Thankfully it appeared to be RedNeck day, so I figured I could handle it. After all, I can fit in with RedNeck pretty well. So, stepping out of my truck, I didn’t bother to lock it. It is a small town. Plus my truck is of the age where it does not need a fake ID to be served alcohol. Finally, Bruce was along for the ride. Typically, folks who know anything will not fuck with a vehicle that has a cattle dog near it, let alone in it.
Once I got inside I came across another bad sign. The only available cart had a wheel that would lock up. I went to the other entrance just as someone was bringing a bunch of carts back in. The masses seemed to be wandering slowly and aimlessly through the store. I think that’s when their resemblance to zombies struck me. It’s probably why the “Resident Evil” trilogy hopped into my shopping cart.
The main things I needed were dog food and milk. Items that reside at opposite corners of the store. I attempted to navigate through the areas that past experience had taught me would be less populated. However, that took me by the toy section. Then and there I realized that the real threat in case of the Zombie Apocalypse will not come from the fully grown Zombies but from their spawn. You see the fully grown Zombies move in predictable patterns. The little spawn though, they dart around. I nearly punted one like a football. I swear I did not intend to nearly kick the small one. He darted out at me just as my leg was swinging forward. If it weren’t for the training the chickens and cats have given me, I would not have been able to stop in my tracks to prevent from connecting with the wee one. You see the chickens run up to me from odd angles and they and the cats tend to weave through my legs as I’m walking when they believe there is food involved for them. Thankfully, they have trained me well to be mindful of my steps.
Once I had collected the items I needed and was ready to go I chose to use the self-checkout option. There seemed to be the shortest line there and I figured if the store appeared filled with Zombies, the checkers wouldn’t be any better. As I was scanning my items I realized why there weren’t as many people on that end of the checkouts… the kiddie play-land was right there. That’s right all the evil Zombie spawn who had just been sitting in church behaving themselves sounded like a pack of wild animals that had been caged for months only to have been loosed upon the world seconds prior to my approach to the scanner.
Yes indeed the spawn are the true danger. Even their parents know it, that’s why they leave them there while they shop. The noise from the shrieking and screaming was so distracting I nearly forgot how to run my debit card. I have few doubts there was blood being shed somewhere in that small room. It appeared there even was a guard at the entrance, sending the children back into the room if they happened to attempt to escape into the store.
I managed to make it out in one piece. I must never, ever return to WalMart on a Sunday afternoon though. I know I will not be able to take it.
Maybe March is going to go out like a lamb after all…
Today I could go from being to cold to sweating to just right and back to sweating all in the span of ten minutes or less, doing the same thing and not changing anything about my attire. Sun, clouds, breeze – mix them like on the wheels of a slot machine, keep pulling that handle like your life depends on beating the one armed bandit… that was what the weather was doing here. Ever shifting and changing – constantly mixing it up. Really it’s not a bad deal, it’s actually starting to smell like Spring. I think the desert is waking up from her winter nap. Now let’s see if she hit’s the snooze button or not. Someone told me it’s supposed to snow next week.
I realized today that if I was Native American my dog would have to have the Indian name of Rocks In Head. Which while it’s probably better than Shit For Brains, it means he’s a knuckle head. He also will retrieve rocks and play with them like some dogs play with a tennis ball. He’s either not so bright or pretty tough. I’m leaning towards all of the above, after all he’s a cattle dog.
The bay colt seems to have an infection from getting gelded last week. He’s now on antibiotics. The poor thing, he doesn’t feel so good. I pulled him into the stall that adjoins the pasture he’s in to give him grain with his meds in it. The other two yearlings were banging and clanging at the gate to get in. At first I thought it was because they didn’t want to be separated from him. After a while I realized it was because they were jealous and they wanted the grain. What stinkers. I think tomorrow I’m just mixing the meds with water in a syringe to give to him by mouth.
This morning I got to play secretary to the guy. I got to get a QuitClaim Deed organized to buy the five acres adjacent to this place, since we’ve been using it for a while it will be nice to actually own it. I also educated myself on writing a legal description for a parcel of land.
All that and I rode a couple of horses today. I even rode them outside of my arena. Yep, like almost on a trail ride. Well, I didn’t get that carried away. It was trying to be intermittently windy so we just moseyed around the driveway. Mostly moseyed… Ki was trying to add some speed. Sierra couldn’t keep her eyeballs in her skull, so many things to look at. I am determined to get both of these horses to my definition of broke. Yeah, they’re broke now – you can ride them. But, they are not at the point where they will go anywhere, do whatever, with soft cues and no arguing broke. I mean broke broke. To the point where I can put any old idiot on them and the horses will just go along and where I can let someone who knows something ride them and they’ll have fun. All it takes to get them to that point is lots of time and wet saddle blankets. It’s kind of the same as getting your hair clean… lather rinse repeat.