Some of you who have livestock, know that they need salt in their diets to stay healthy. Sheep can get their salt intake from salt blocks or salt that’s poured onto flat surfaces for them to lick when they need it. This brings me to yesterday when I called my mom to tell her something funny that Little Man had said to me (he thinks my parents would like to go to this trampoline venue to jump when they’re visiting next. They wouldn’t, trust me). She told me that she and my dad were in the pickup pulling the flatbed, headed down to northern Utah to get salt. FYI, we’re a family that talks multiple times a day, as in, if we were a hand, when one finger of the hand is gone on vacation or such, we’re pretty much doing a mental “Marco! Polo!” because one of the fingers is missing.
So anyway, one summer, around the mid 90s when having thick, Basque mono-brows wasn’t the rage since thin eyebrows were on the cusp of fashion, a rancher told my dad about buying salt in bulk and filling the 50 pound bags himself. Enter my sister, Neeka, and myself, plus some loose salt, empty salt bags and a flatbed (attaches to the back of a pickup to be pulled). Neeka and I walked into the warehouse to see a small hill of salt and the salt bags. For several hours, we scooped and filled, scooped and filled. In case you’re wondering, here’s a fun fact: salt is rather amazing at helping you locate every owie and scratch on your body, while even attired in long pants, t-shirts, work boots and reminding you to moisturize like there’s no tomorrow. By the time we’d completed approximately half of this fun-time chore, not only were we experiencing a hankering for multiple Band-Aids, but we were also super thirsty. It was so not awesome yet at the same time, this salty time always gives us a good laugh when we reminisce about our interaction with a mongo size of loose salt.
*Btw, a Basque girl’s best friend is tweezers for any rogue eyebrow hairs. Happy to say that my brows have been acceptable for at least two decades now.
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