Down On The Farm

Still beautiful here in Oklahoma.

It’s the kind of weather that almost makes me forget I hate fall. It makes me remember why fall was my favorite season, the pretty leaves, mums and pumpkins, plus all the food. I love soups and pumpkin breads, hot coffee on a cold morning, and the smell of anything apple spice baking.

Sigh…I miss my love affair with fall.

Fall throws me head first into the memories of the affair.

I remember when I was, I don’t know 5? 6? going fishing with my mom, aunt, sister and step dad. I was bored, fishing is boring…I still get bored, but as a kid I had as much as I could take. By the pond, in the middle of this field was a fallen tree. I was probably annoying, Hell I’m still annoying, so when I couldn’t sit still and be quiet any longer, I was allowed to go “play” on the tree.

I climbed all over, I was an expert tree climber, tom-boy in my youth. I ended up falling off the tree and sliding as I fell into the grass. In Kansas, if you go fishing in a pasture? There are usually cows. There were cows, and they were well fed. They left a rather large, fresh cow patty behind when they moved on to graze. When I fell out of the tree, I landed and slid in the pile of cow poop.

I yelled to my mom that I had gotten cow poop on me, she just yelled back to wipe it off on the grass. She probably should have gotten up and looked herself, instead she assumed it was just on my shoe. By the time they finally turned and looked for me I was laying in the grass, rolling around trying to get the cow shit off which covered me from head to toe off.

I had to ride in the back of the truck home. My aunt took pity on me and rode with me. It was a long ride of smelly shame home.

The story is still told at family gatherings…

I thought of it last week as I rode through the pastures in the ‘mule’, our farm’s double seated gator. I don’t know if it was the fall colors, the smell of the grass, or checking cows which triggered the memory. I just know as I sat next to my husband, it flashed in through my mind.

Then I thought, it’s kind of like him. He stepped in whore, I believe him when he says it wasn’t on purpose at first. He wasn’t looking for an affair, he fell into it. Next time he was of sound mind, and looked up he was covered in it. Head to toe covered in the whore and the affair. No matter how much he rolled in the grass? That shit wasn’t going to come off.

Now before I get slammed by betrayed spouses on here? I know he chose to have an affair. I know it wasn’t an accident. However, I believe him when he says it was just some texts, that slowly stopped being innocent. I believe him when he says he crossed the line slowly, never thinking “Hey I’m looking to cheat”. He just kept taking steps, walking a little father over the line, until one day there stood “the” door. A door with a sign that said ” Affair, you can enter but you can never go back”, and he thought I’ll just take one step in, but I’ll prop the door open. I just want to see what’s on the other side.

As a kid? If I was still that kid climbing the tree in the pasture and a door appeared? Just a door standing in the field, no house, not propped up by anything…if I saw it? I would have run far from it, as fast as my short skinny legs would carry me. But I’ve always been smarter than my husband. He thought he could break the rules a little, stop whenever, and yeah, never get caught.

He opened the door, walked through and found it had slammed behind him. What was once innocent, or not so bad, became a shame he will carry with him for the rest of his life. He has to live with it…Forever.

and unlike my funny “fall from the tree” story, his was a fall from grace, a fall into being a cheating spouse…it’s not a story you laugh about at family gatherings.

He also has to live with the knowledge that he  brought the shit home to me and my kids. He let us all be covered in it, before he finally washed her off.

I know I still find pieces of his whore shit under my nails, on the bottom of my shoes, and randomly here and there in my life.

I am really tired of smelling whore shit.

I know I didn’t have to climb in the back with him. I didn’t have to help him find his way home. I could have just thrown him a bar of soap and told him to wash off outside. I don’t regret helping him.

I am just really tired of smelling whore shit.

I’d like to just smell the fall air and think about carving pumpkins.

You can have a lotta fun in a New York minute
But there’s some things you can’t do inside those city limits
Ain’t no closin’ time, ain’t no cover charge
Just country boys and girls gettin’ down on the farm

You can come as you are, there ain’t no dress code
Just some rural route rules that you need to know
Don’t mess with the bull, he can get real mean
Don’t forget to shut the gate, stay outta the beans
If it starts to rain, we’ll just head to the barn
We’re country boys and girls gettin’ down on the farm”
-Tim McGraw-

 

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

13 Responses to Down On The Farm

  1. brokenjoan says:

    Love the reference comparing cow shit to the whore! Keep’em coming Kelly! XO Joan

  2. horsesrcumin says:

    Whore shit is a million times smellier than cowshit! I should know, was a dairy farmer for seventeen years, and grew up for another seventeen on a dairy farm (was the weekend relief milker for my Dad.)

    You know, we all are aware of the choices they made, but mine also “kind of” fell into whore. He took MY friend away, with four kids, ours and her little shit, for me to come the next morning to meet up with them all after I did something important at work. Yes, they had been getting on quite well, but he says that consciously, he never thought, “hmm, I’ll fuck that when I get her down to the bach.” He went to bed that night, and lay there between about 12am and 1am and that was the first time he consciously thought, “hell, I could fuck that!? I think. Shit, What?” That was when I told him he should have texted me – I always have my phone beside bed when my kids are not tucked up under the same roof as me. He could have said, “whoah, I am feeling a bit weird about being in this house with my ex – talk me down babe.” And I would have. I get it, she was terminally single, a whore, (slept with a fuck load of men) and adored “us.” (Hmm, me, not so much apparently, lol.) Once he did it he thought, WTF??? That was stupid, not doing that again, idiot! Phew, thank God no one saw that stupid shit. It took another five months before he “fell” into her again. Then he was so lost he couldn’t get back out for ten months.

    Fucking idiot. I was always here, and i was always listening.

  3. pabloswife says:

    Exactly Paula… I can’t eat a donut without spending 5 minutes trying to talk myself out of it… I can’t believe he didn’t have those thoughts too. And if not, why the fuck not?? When he sent that first text and got a flirty reply, why didn’t he realize he’d crossed a line? When he dropped her home and she kissed him, why the fuck didn’t he tell her that could never happen again?? When he typed out that text telling her he wanted to fuck her why didn’t he think “shit” and delete it?? When he stood in line, condoms in hand, why didn’t he tell himself he was about to do a really stupid fucking stupid thing? That he was about to cross a line from which he would NEVER be able to come back from??? Why??? So many questions, so few fucking answers!!! So FUCKING frustrating!!!!!!

  4. oncewhole says:

    I love this!! Best analogy I’ve read yet! He fell into whore, and before he knew it he was covered head to toe in it. Thanks for posting this. :o)

  5. soccermom1 says:

    Thank you. Thank you for defending me against that delusion woman on the other blog. Thank you for this blog that made me laugh. You are a survivor we all are. Whores be damn

    • horsesrcumin says:

      soccermom, that bitch is always commenting and seeming to want some kind of “sympathy” for her “suffering” – losing her “soulmate,” because she was so “honourable” and walked away (cough, splutter, spew) I just think you need to tell her to go fuck herself, and then ignore her pathetic, narcissistic drivel. I personally can’t be bothered with even the “go fuck yourself!” Commenting back just keeps feeding her NPD ego. She can contribute nothing, as it as all about her, and her screwed up opinion of herself. She cannot take the blinkers off long enough to see how much damage she causes – and I say causes, not caused, because, okay, if she has “ended the affair” why is she still causing pain to us here? I wouldn’t waste the energy worrying about her xx. I just don’t get why a slut with such low self esteem, she-knowingly-gets-in-deep with a man who is not available would even put herself out there on these blogs? Weird people in the world. She is entitled to her views, but why do we have to hear them? Wrong audience, chick.

  6. soccermom1 says:

    When I decide to post my blog the first one will be all about the OW. See I have managed to classify them. The brazen ones, the remorseful ones, the ones who are bunny boilers. I have done the research. I really wanted to start my blog on a positive note because these blogs were such a help to me. It’s a lifeline and I truly believe I survived my hubby s affair thanks to these blogs. We are survivors. All different, all with different outcomes. Some with the same outcome. But I wanted to be positive but I cannot do this without addressing the ow in my case the bitch was a bunny boiler with zero remorse. If it makes me bitter screw it. I’m sorry but until the bunny boiler realizes the tears my children shed. Till she realizes I didn’t do anything to her. I didn’t deserve it, she had no right to go after my husband. Till these things are realized I will not forgive her. So I’m bitter. My hubby was remorseful, he begged and three years later he still regrets it but that damn woman nope nothing zero. The only reason I didn’t destroy her, was because she has two kids. I do have a heart. Because of those kids I didn’t destroy her like I could have. I have a heart. Yes I may be bitter but I do have a heart. I want to thank you all for your honesty, these blogs saved my life, I’m very thankful

  7. Amie Lout says:

    Loved this post! I feel every word of it! Been reading an eBook called How to Successfully Recover from Having Been Cheated On, it’s been an interesting read on infidelity as there are not many out there that get’s this specific. Gregory Smith is the author, his site is http://www.been-cheated-on.com/. Might be worth a look for some who are trying to get through this on a daily basis. Again, great post!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s