In the Dark

At least 150 days a year, I do morning chores in the dark.  To make it to school by 7:15, from

September to May, requires that I am on the road before the sun comes up.  Add in Saturday cross country meets and that means I'm stumbling around in the dark to feed the chickens and oxen. 

I'd been thinking of putting a light somewhere down near the barn to help things a bit.  I have a mercury light (now replaced with an LED) up by the house, but it doesn't shine that far and is on the opposite side of the old granary, so it isn't much help.

The other day, a few days before my birthday, I got home from school in the afternoon and noticed tire tracks leading to the big barn.  This isn't that unusual; My dad often comes over and does jobs around the house - everybody needs a hired man like him, with a salary of $0 and a willingness to be on call at all hours- so I didn't think much of it. 

Later, when getting hay out for the oxen and straw for bedding, I noticed a ladder had been moved, but that still didn't register.  A couple of tools in different spots made no impact either.

However, upon getting ready for bed and shutting the lights off in the house, I glanced out the back window and had a Genesis moment. . ."Let there be light," and there was light:  on the barn, on the oxen, on the ground all around.

"Happy Birthday," was the hired man's response when I made inquiries later. 

Three takeaways:  Get yourself a hired man like mine, use an LED barn light to make chores so much more enjoyable, and don't call on me to investigate your crime scene.  I obviously can't process the evidence.  I remain metaphorically, although thankfully now not physically, in the dark.