Urban Rancher Publishing

Just One of Those Days
  The Urban Rancher has been in the lodging business for close to 25 years, and as he shifted his reflections from their friends to some of the experiences at work, he realized that there had been some really humorous things over the years.

It also seemed like the major breakdowns didn't happen until he went away for the convention in July each summer . . .


Poems

The Urban Rancher
My Bike
Childhood's Maze
It's Almost Too Late
Little Brother
Floppy-Eared Dog
Only in Estes
Midlife
Death of an Old Friend
Flowers
The Mirror
McGraw Ranch
The Breakfast Ride
The Steak Fry
The Old Cowboy
The Mummy
The Ride
The Character
Our Steeds
The Garden
The Honeymoon Night
The Perfume
The Last Ranch
Patterns
Our Reunion
Where Are You Now?
The Forties
Mortality
Co-Dependents
Make Some Memories
Reflections
The High Country
How Can We Help?
Skybear
One of Those Days
The Vultures
Looking Backwards

I called from the convention to see how she was,
To see how the days had gone by.
For we run a motel in the Colorado mountains,
And I'm off conventioning in the month of July.

Now in the lodging business this is the time
We're the busiest we can possibly be.
For me to be gone is really a strain,
Something always happens, and it's never to me.

She answered the phone, I could tell by her voice,
By the strain and the pain in each phrase,
That it hadn't gone smooth, and hadn't gone well,
She'd not had the very best of days.

There'd been a huge storm, the waters rushed in,
Flooding the pump house and three rooms beside.
With no water pressure for most of the place,
I'd have understood if she'd sat down and cried!

The lightning struck close, electricity went out,
There was no TV, no phone, and no light.
Some one fell in a bathroom, a towel got flushed,
And plugged up the sewer so tight.

There were drunks in the pool, making noise galore,
Upset guests coming the next morning to complain.
The handyman drilled through a live electrical wire,
Sparks were flying through the office again.

It was pouring down rain at seven at night,
A backhoe was digging holes in the lot.
Trying to find the sewer line to fix,
If she'd had a gun, herself she'd have shot!

So I asked her so quietly, just how are things?
How's everything, are there any bright rays?
And she replied calmly, with that "Innkeepers Shrug",
"Not much unusual, it's just one of those days!"
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Copyright (c) 2008 Urban Rancher Publishing, Revised 18 May 2008