On Sandbags & Dog Smiles

Yesterday's weather was UH-MAZE-ING!! Weather like we've been having gives me huge amounts of cabin fever. When I get hit with the fever I look for ANY excuse to get outside and get moving...even work!

Each winter I buy sandbags to weigh down Honey's back end.

This year we ended up with 4 sandbags over each wheel. That's a lot of weight. 480 pounds, to be exact.

It's great to have that extra weight in the back end when you're battling a Kansas winter (read: snow/ice/generally nasty slushy stuff,) but once you get past the winter months that extra weight (and crappy gas mileage!) gets old. Then, come springtime, you get the delightful task of unloading nearly 500 pounds of sandbags. Inevitably, the week you ditch the junk in the trunk, Kansas decides it's time for one last ice storm and you're sliding all over the place.

I digress...

Yesterday evening I had decided I would tempt fate and ditch the junk in the trunk. Hank decided he would give his Aunt Lannie a hand (or paw) and sat in the truck to supervise while I backed up to each pot hole in the driveway and flopped a sandbag into them.

We finally got all 8 bags dumped into the holes. Then it was time to walk (or frolic, if you're Hank) around from bag to bag, stabbing them with a steak knife (you're welcome, Mom) and dumping the sand out. Hank discovered his new purpose in life is to "help" (and I use that term loosely) me spread the sand out by digging like a maniac in each pile of sand...essentially flinging all sand away from where we put it and entirely defeating the purpose.

Once we managed to fling sand all over creation and dispose of the evidence, it was time for the best part. Driving around the section multiple times until all the rocks, sticks, dirt, and treasures fly out of the bed of my truck. Seriously folks, it's WAY easier than taking the time to sweep it out by hand.

Hank asked Lucy if she wanted to go. (Dumb question. Of course she did!) We loaded up, and after a small skirmish over who got shotgun, we were off.

Congratulations to Hanky on winning the Toofer War to claim the front seat.

The dogs and I spent the next half-hour cruising the beautiful Harvey County countryside. I am here to tell you that you haven't truly seen joy until you've looked at your dog's face while riding around with the windows down. The tongue is flopping. The drool is flying (generally towards me. Gross.) The ear hair is fluttering. That unmistakable doggy smile is firmly in place.

Naturally, because I am my Father's daughter, I got a little verklempt over the whole thing and took several moments to thank God for dirt roads, green grass, perfect weather, pickup trucks, an adoreably hairy "nephew," and a slightly hateful "daughter."

It really is the simple things that make life great...sometimes God just has to remind me of it!