Ironman and Farmer Tan

Yesterday was Ironman Sunday here in Lake Placid, when all the roads are closed from 6:30 AM to 5:30 PM for the triathlon.

Though many locals resent the Ironman, a part of me always looks forward to this day. The road shutdown puts me in a bubble where no other needs can intrude. I cannot drive anyone or shop for groceries or arrange family appointments. It’s like a travel day in that sense, except that I can’t travel and thus can work, uninterrupted, on whatever my heart desires for hours on end.

This year was different in that I have Stash. Stash is a bit like a child, very dear but also young and needing exercise and entertainment. I could not leave him from morning until night. So we drove down to the farm early. He “helped” me move the sheep (having been shocked by the fence, he stays away and runs around the field while I do this) and then watched as I mucked the barn and brought the cows in.

Stash is always on a leash at the farm. It feels important not to awaken his prey drive, which is considerable. When we hike, he will race off at 30 mph and leap into the air after ruffed grouse that explode out of the brush.

On a leash, unable to run and chase, he watches chickens calmly as the water trough is scrubbed and refilled.

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My barn cat, Flossie, twines around him.

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The desire to pounce and play is kept under control. Just barely.

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But yesterday we were done by 9:30 and then I had to think of what I could work on with a toddler at my side. I could not mow. I could not weedwhack.

I decided to weed the future garden.

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Stash was bored but happy to be with me. It was hot but a merciful breeze kept off the biting flies. I pulled weeds for hours. We took occasional breaks for walks to stretch his legs. When my right elbow gave out, I switched to my left.

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I got about a third of the garden length cleared and clean, but it is the wide third — the garden expands from 2 feet deep at the top to 10 feet at the bottom — so in my mind, I’m half done.

Having Stash with me made me much more careful to go inside the apartment regularly to drink water and cool down. At lunch time, I peeled off my sweaty double-front Carhartt jeans and hung them on the deck to dry. As I munched on a peanut butter sandwich, I glanced down at my hand on my knee and laughed out loud.

It’s clear why my family teases me about my farmer tan!

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3 Responses to Ironman and Farmer Tan

  1. Beth says:

    I had to laugh when you mentioned the challenges of doing chores with a toddler by your side. You may appreciate the attached video of my “helper” – more for the sheep than the cute kid!

    https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=1727185597535292&id=1674110762842776

  2. Missy says:

    Time to work in shorts! Lol!

    • adkmilkmaid says:

      Yes, it’s painful to look at the bizarre white of my legs (and belly). However I never work in shorts. I am not sure why but it’s been years since I wore shorts! Perhaps because I bang myself up so badly, almost on a daily basis. Even with long pants, my legs are a mass of bruises and scrapes!

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