Iâ€™m considering making an offer to Hollywood or Fargo-whichever one takes me up on it first Iâ€™m supposing. That husband of mine witnesses the things that happen and surely my girlfriends hear about it. Iâ€™ve been meaning to ask my doctor If there is anything written in the medical journals about certain bodies being accident prone and magnets to the not-so-common of occurrences. If itâ€™s not written yet I offer myself up to science. My offer was at first just going to include me agreeing to wear a camera attached to the front of me so the researchers could be privy to the things that happen before me. This week though Iâ€™ve decided to include the back side of me as well as a camera atop my head.
It was a normal day as far as days go. Husband went to work as did I. We met back at home and after a welcome home hug and the late lunch like we always have, we went on with our own routines. I plopped down in the recliner to watch Dr. Phil and he putzed around on the computer.
The sage age I am at the moment has taught me that I have to keep moving. If I am moving and in motion it means I am not yet dead. I rather enjoy being alive most days. Like most wives, what I enjoy he will enjoy too â€” by golly! Whether he knows it or not he loves walking every single day up our long, country drive. I saddled up our dogs since we donâ€™t have horses, put on my fuzzy, warm boots and wrapped a scarf around Husbandâ€™s neck. We usually walk side by side but this day I was a wee bit concerned about my blood sugar being low. I felt a little bit funny so I didnâ€™t go all the way to the end. I began walking back in front of him with one of the dogs just in case. A diabetic should never be too far from sugar when sheâ€™s feeling low. Our driveway has wide-open prairie on both sides until the prairie grasses meet up to the tree claims. When we get to the tree claim we are nearly back home to the cabin.
I would like to announce something. I am the yeller in this family.
Pert-near everything I ever wanted when I was young I had to yell for.
Mama had so many babies that I couldnâ€™t be heard unless I did. Husband is a peaceful, quiet soul and pert-near everything he ever wanted when he was young he just had to quietly ask for and it was his. Opposites attract. Imagine my surprise then when there I walked many steps ahead of him, dog on the leash in hand when I heard him yell. He didnâ€™t just yell he yelled at me! He didnâ€™t just yell at me he yelled with the kind of warning that made me believe he meant it and he yelled loud. I had just made it to the tree claim when I heard him behind me.
â€śLook OOOooouuu-t!â€ť he yelled.
The rest was in such slow motion that I felt the soft tissue of my face float across the skeleton of my skull. It was as if someone took a pressurized air hose and sprayed my lips across my face. I whipped my head around so fast in disbelief for him using his â€śoutside voiceâ€ť that I nearly missed the point of his concern.
When my face skin and lips finally ended up where my head stopped I saw it. A doe leaped out at me full force. It flew over me as if I were watching one of Santaâ€™s reindeer trying to take flight. Husband began running towards me prior to the doe leaping figuring it was going to hit me instead of jumping over me. I felt the force of the leap. It was a surreal moment. I dropped to the ground in complete awe of what just happened and what could have happened. I was so thankful the doe chose me to show itself to. That said, I could have become the new lyrics to an old song.
â€ťJodi got run over by a doe deer.
Walking up the driveway Sunday eve.
You can think thereâ€™s no such thing as accident prone.
But as for me and Husband , we believe!â€ť
Husband has decided it is time. He has asked that I donâ€™t leave home walking unless I am wrapped in bubble wrap with an emergency rope and first aid kit attached to my person.
He forgot to consider the dangers in me with plastic near my head, a rope to get tangled in and the many dangers in the first aid kit. Maybe Iâ€™ll just stay inside and safe. Nah. Iâ€™d miss the good stuff then.
Besides, youâ€™d have nothing to read about if I didnâ€™t do combat walking with a joyful heart. Thank you for another year of taking the time to read my columns. Iâ€™m beyond thankful for you-truly. Weâ€™ve spent the last nine years together already. Pending no more bump ins with this doe I hope for at least another nine.
Ingstad lives on the prairie near Valley City and writes this column for the Times-Record.