Tuesday, January 17, 2006

Merna, the chickens will be late.

It was a warm fall Saturday morning and we had just finished loading the last of 125 chickens into crates to send to the processors.
My boys had fed, 'farm raised' fryers, for a little spending money. They charged and got a good price for them. The chickens are much different and better tasting than those raised in confinement.
We had delivered the first half an hour earlier. We told Merna, we would go get the others and be back in an hour. Well, we sweated, got dirty, smelly, miserable and showered. It was already an hour and a half later and we were still at home. I told the boys to go with the pick-up, and I'd call Merna and tell her they were on the way. C = Cliff M= Merna
C-Hi, is this Merna?
M- Yes
C- The boys will be there in about twenty minutes with the rest of the chickens.
M- No response.
C-Sorry, we uh, had a little trouble.
M- Uh, who is this.
C-Cliff, Cliff Morrow
M- I'ya think you may have the wrong number.
C-This is Merna, right?
M-Uh yeah but I don't know about any chickens that need dressed.
C- Is this 402-456-@@@@
M-No, this is 405-456-@@@@
C_Oh I'm sorry, I've dialed the wrong number.
M-Don't worry about it. I'm getting ready for a Halloween party and I've had some really strange phone calls today. Your call fit right in, that's why it took me a while.
We talked for at least another ten minutes about her party and about life in general. She was from Oklahoma. A very nice gal. I finally said I had to go.
C- Well sorry again but good to talk to you.
M- Does this mean you won't be bringing 70 chickens over.
C- Sorry, guess not.
M- Probably a good thing, the party and all... well you know.
I suspect that if she lived in the Tekamah area, our family would be friends with her family. Isn't it curious that you can tell pretty quickly over the phone what people are like.
Some people are driving thru life with both white knuckled hands on the steering wheel except for the times they need to make an obscene gesture. Others seem to be going the same direction at about the same speed but they're smiling and taking in the sights. I think Merna is like that. Both Merna's are. Open the windows folks, and have a gander. LOOK AT THAT, ah you missed it!


Jim said...

That's good, Cliff. Is it true?

I wave to people we meet here just like we do in Nebraska. Most wave back, people do like to be friendly.

Now-a-days those would be called 'free range' chickens.

Jerry said...

I know a Myrna and a Perna here in Oklahoma, and they're both good ol' gals. But no Merna's.

Great story.

Peter said...

Hi Cliff, I always figured you as a "talk to a black dog on a chain" type of guy, and I think this post proved that right.

Mike ( ex scientia, veritas ) said...

It must have been thirty year ago we came home from grocery shopping to a ringing phone. My wife rushed to answer - "HI! We're back from vacation ...." They talked for about 10 minutes before she realized that she did know the woman. Bwahahahaha.

Excellent point, Cliff. Life is short.

Mike ( ex scientia, veritas ) said...

That is "did NOT know the woman." ;)

Time to turn The History Channel off, shut down the laptop and turn the light out, I guess.

Paul said...

I grew up on "free-range" chickens. I once wrote a blog entry about it.


I enjoyed this post, Cliff. I haven't had a phone call like that, but (don't tell anyone) I've listened in on some party-line calls when I shouldn't have. Remember them?

Rachel said...

Great story Cliff! There are nice folks everywhere. I called my brother's house one day and it sounded just like him answering the phone. I asked him what he was doing and he said he had just come in from feeding the cattle, horses, and hogs. I paused a minute and I said....."This is not by brother Steve is it??" I regretted later that I didn't have that conversation with him to find out where he was at!

Free range chickens...yum!!

Rachel said...

Should have been "not MY brother Steve" above. (Guess Mike and I are having the same sort of day!)

Jamie Dawn said...

Two Mernas, and both of them neat women. I like "mistakes" like that phone call. It makes you smile a little more. Those chickens would have made Merna's Halloween party lively. "Hey, let's play catch the chickens!"

Bossy♥'s YOU said...

ok what are the chances you call the wrong state and get the person with the same name..I mean if the name was joe or bob or mary..maybe..

i think your pulling my leg cliff;)

Just Help Me said...

ha ha funny story but i think you pulling our legs!!!

Cliff Morrow said...

That my friends is a totally true story. I too thought it was really something to be able to hit another Merna.

Rhodent said...

I wonder what the odd are of two women with the name "Merna" having a similar phone number? Merna doesn't seem to me to be a very common name. And how many people would then end up talking to the wrong number person for 10 minutes? LOL

Anne said...

This was so funny to me. I once got a call from a woman who said she was my Aunt Marie-and she sounded exactly like her. We actually talked for several minutes before either of we realized that we weren't related!

I certainly would wonder if someone called me about 70 chickens though...

JUST A MOM said...

that is pretty cool, I love when things like that happen. BOY I am late huh, sorry been busy.

poopie said...

I like to call it serendipity.

Karen said...

The last time I had a huge miscommunication, my mom had me put 'three whole eggs' in the cake batter. Granted, I was 7. I kept asking... are you sure the 'whole egg?' Apparently, we were not on the same ground. I think she freaked when she saw the egg shells in the cake I baked!!

Maria said...

This reminds me of a phone call my father made to me years ago from his home in Minnesota. Somehow, he got the wrong area code and instead of California, a phone rang somewhere in Texas. He heard a female voice say hello and assumed it was me. Loudly and I am certain terribly off-key, he sang all of "Happy Birthday" before the woman laughed and said, "Thank you, and I love being sung, too, but it isn't my birthday and my name isn't Maria."
They, too talked like old friends because my dad knew the town she lived in and she liked hearing about the weather in Minneapolis.