When I Almost Did Dirt Man In!

For the first six months after Dirt Man and I were married, we lived in a little cottage in the woods. It was set back in the woods off of the main road which was a dirt road. The nearest neighbor was a mile away. We called this “Annie’s House”. This house was owned by Dirt Man’s grandfather. The property once possessed a little house that was occupied by a feisty little old woman named Annie. The house burned down and she was homeless. Dirt Man’s grandfather bought the land and built a house on it and allowed Annie to live there until her death. Apparently, Annie did not drive and had to depend on others to take her places. On occasion, Dirt Man’s grandfather took her to the store or the doctor’s office. He used to get so tickled to tell the story of how he’d go to pick her up and she’d have pots cooking on the stove. Instead of just turning the stove off, she’d pour the contents of each pot into mason jars. Then, she’d pack her mason jars into a paper sack and carry it with her because she was not going to give anyone the opportunity “to poison her food” while she was gone.

Anyway, the area was secluded and we had not bothered to have a telephone installed because we knew we were going to move to the city in a few months. And basically, we only slept there. Between work, school, and family events, we were hardly ever home. When all was quiet in the still of the night, the owls still screeched, limbs cracked and whipped in the wind, and the dogs howled in the distance. I felt safe with Dirt Man there, and it was seldom that I was there alone.

However, one such occasion did occur and I almost killed Dirt Man. Seriously. Well, sorta. I happened to be off of work that day and was home alone that night. He had classes during the day and worked in sporting goods at a department store. He worked until closing and had to restock inventory after the store closed. We lived about an hour away from the city where he worked, so it was very late when he came home that night.

I had listened to the dogs down the road howling ferociously all night long. It sounded as if they had cut through the woods and were in my back yard. With my great imagination, I had every creak in the wall and every limb against the window deemed as a burglar or rapist or murderer. Anyway, it went down…someone was out to hurt me! I kept crawling out of bed and checking window and door locks and peeping (yes, peeping, I didn’t want the bad guy to see me!) out the windows hoping to see car lights pull in which would mean that Dirt Man was home and I was safe.

Then I heard it. Yes, someone was coming up the back steps. Not using the front door like Dirt Man did. Dang, someone was gonna kill me! I grabbed a 12 gauge shotgun and a 30-06 rifle. Yeah, I was two fisted. I had the shotgun in my right hand and the rifle in my left. The back door was located at the side of the kitchen. I shook there in front of the door with a gun in each hand aiming at the door. I heard the rattle and saw the knob turn. I scrunched my eyes shut and yelled to the top of my lungs through tears, “I swear to God I will shoot you!”

Dirt Man came barreling through (I couldn’t see him because my eyes were closed!) and ripped both guns out of arms. I don’t remember what he said, but I actually collapsed in his arms crying my fool head off. He was crying by that time, too because I had pretty much scared the crap out of him. So, that my friends, is the story of how I almost became a widow by killing my own husband. Well, if I’m going to be honest here, I must add that even though I had my fingers on the triggers I did not actually think to take the gun out of the safety mode.

And you bet I wanted to know WHY he came through the back door. He had heard the dogs creating a ruckus at the back of the house so he walked around that way to check things out and just decided to come in the back door. Big mistake, huh?! Well, almost.

Through the last twenty-some odd years we’ve gotten a lot of mileage out of this story. Dirt Man isn’t too hard on me about it. Why? I think he’s afraid I really will shoot his @$$!

32 thoughts on “When I Almost Did Dirt Man In!

  1. Oh my! This is kind scary, but the way you tell stories I was laughing. I kind felt bad because it is somewhat of a serious situation and you were probably really scared . . . but you are a great story teller and you make me laugh!

  2. Nights alone like that scare the bejeezus out of me, too. I can’t imagine hearing those noises in the middle of the woods! Thank goodness you were prepared (and thank goodness for safeties). =>

  3. The whole scenario would have scared the shimunga out of me too! Damn! I’m really glad you didn’t do him in. He’s a good guy! Poor thing! (You and him too!)

    I have a post you might like about our people called “Navajo Code Talkers”. You may already know about these guys but you might want to check it out.

  4. I’m sure glad he got to you before you figured the safety was on.

    Seriously I do miss those nights out in the woods when I was growing up, there are a lot of sounds that either comfort you or make the hair stand on the back of your neck, I know it brings about a lot of fears but I sure sleep well in these areas.

    Sure enjoyed the post SuziCate

  5. I think you reacted like most anyone would. Thank goodness the safety was on and that you didn’t shoot! What a story. You have so many great ones.

    Plus, love that Annie didn’t want her food poisoned and went to the trouble to keep it with her. What a silly bird!

  6. Our comings and goings and sleep patterns are so varied in this house, we dare not keep any firearms within reach. I did take a swing with a golf club one night at my son who was, like Dirt Man, uncharacteristically entering the house through the back! Swing and a miss! Good thing! Great post.

    • Now, we’re smart enough to keep firearms unloaded and locked in a safe and the ammo locked in a different part of the house. However, we’d be damned if someone did break in and try to kill us! How effective is beating someone with a cordless phone?!

  7. So were you Calamity Jane in a past life?? This was too funny. I know how scared I was at night when we first moved out here to the boondocks! And the first week after the move, hubby had to go out of town for a week, leaving me and the kids alone out here. You can bet we all slept in my bed!!

    Great story.
    ♥Spot

  8. Isn’t it amazing how we can completely freak ourselves out, to the point of sheer ridiculousness?

    Glad Dirt Man got to keep his “goods.” 🙂

    And I want to hear more about the feisty old lady. She sounds like a pistol.

  9. I swear to god I was going to call you the same name that Spot mentioned…

    “Calamity Jane!!!!”

    You GO, girl!!

    THANK GOD you had the gun in safety mode or Dirt Man would have had a little difficulty sitting down – HA!

    GREAT story, SC! You honestly had me on the edge of my seat!

  10. Look at it this way — once you’ve pointed a loaded gun at your husband, everything else in your marriage has to be a higher point, right? 🙂 (Him: You washed my socks with a red shirt and now they’re pink! You: Well, wearing pink socks won’t kill you. Unlike that gun I aimed at you that time.)

  11. I’m chuckling because my husband scares the heck out of me on average once a day. Not because he comes home late to a creaky house, but because he moves like a cat and I can’t tell he’s in the room with me until he’s a foot from my elbow. As soon as he speaks, I startle …

  12. I’ve always wanted to live out in the middle of nowhere! I was thinking about that the other day… how secluded you would be and how scared I would probably be! You go for not grabbing 1 but TWO guns to shoot the “almost” bad guy with and double points for not shooting your man!

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