It started earlier in the afternoon, a few hours before I poked a straw through my diet cherry-limeade at the Sonic on Saturday and dumped 12 ounces of ice-cold cherry drink onto my lap and into the seat below it. That meant I had to sit on top of a pile of napkins while cherry limeade gushed out of the seat every time I moved for the next hour. Actually, the string of bad luck started when I almost tipped over on my four-wheeler while crossing a gravelly embankment because, as often happens here in the Ozarks, a huge rock pushed up from the ground right before my left front wheel went over it. Is it possible to jump off the dang thing uphill when it’s rolling downhill? I hope I never have to find out.
Now, the misfortune continues as I search for all of my deer tags – including archery and firearms for two counties – two extra sets of ATV keys and a pin for my rifle scabbard.
But, hey, this morning my husband brought me a set of binoculars and had me peer out the windows in the second floor blue bedroom to see a beautiful seven-pointer nosing through the woods nearby. The buck was following a doe and his neck was already swollen. Good signs, since rifle season, opening day, is this coming Saturday.
Maybe by then, I will have located my keys, pin and most importantly, the tags. Otherwise, I’ll get a quick education on how to get replacements on all of the aforementioned items.
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