The butterflies in my stomach told me this wasn’t going to end well.
They were not at their usual resting place–secured on my ears, and the bridge of my nose.
Gusty winds toyed with my straw hat all morning long; slammed shut the doors on my barn.
Grass mowing, on an otherwise beautiful day, culminated with a mischievous gust of wind. My favorite “Farmer Brown” straw hat went airborne–right into muddy water.
I seethed with rage, for what good it did. How was I so unlucky?
Stagnant water and mud–just what I didn’t want, caked on my favorite chapeau.
With a deft move, I lunged for the hat. Shook off the water and mud. Almost lost my balance–which didn’t help to sooth my shattered nerves.
My glasses must have taken flight–sometime during the melee. They were found, lying in the grass along the roadway, shattered beyond repair.
The only good thing, I was due for an eye exam. Which I will now do, a month early.