by Pa Rock
Farmer in Summer
It's been an unusually cool and rainy August, and while the respite from the sweltering days of mid-July is most certainly welcome, the unpredictable rain showers have served to halt progress on many outdoor endeavors. During the past two weeks the young raccoon who had taken up residence in the barn inexplicably died, leaving no clue as to what brought about his demise. The cats and all of the poultry remain fine. Also two young fawns, one still spotted, have been frolicking about various sections of the farm. And the skunks, bless them, seem to have moved on.
The sun was out yesterday and I rushed outside to begin mowing - and was, of course, met with mower problems. My riding mower, which is on its fourth season and recently underwent a major tune-up, was having belt issues. After an hour of repair efforts by my patient son, it still wasn't working - and I gave up and went mower shopping. When I returned late in the afternoon, I was the proud owner of an expensive zero-turn machine that cuts a 54-inch swath.
The mower was delivered an hour or so before dark, and the fellow who brought it patiently showed me how to use the yard monster. When he had completed his spiel and demonstration, I got on and tried my luck. It turned out to be a performance worthy of a YouTube video.
Nothing on the new mowing machine worked the way that I intuitively felt that it should. It jerked about as I tried to maneuver using only my hands, sped up each time I tried to effect a turn, and didn't seem to want to stop when I did. At one point it even shot out into the road with me struggling to stay in the saddle - and the deliveryman running out beside me frantically waving his arms in case any of the neighbors came barrelling by in their cars. Fortunately I had caught a break in the traffic.
I was reminded of a story Aunt Mary once told me about my Grandfather Macy's one and only attempt to drive a car. She said that he went round and round in a pasture yelling "Whoa, dammit, whoa!"
Today I will be out "practicing" again - on a straight stretch of land well back from the road. No doubt the neighbors will soon tire of me yelling "Whoa, dammit, whoa!"
Farmer in Summer
It's been an unusually cool and rainy August, and while the respite from the sweltering days of mid-July is most certainly welcome, the unpredictable rain showers have served to halt progress on many outdoor endeavors. During the past two weeks the young raccoon who had taken up residence in the barn inexplicably died, leaving no clue as to what brought about his demise. The cats and all of the poultry remain fine. Also two young fawns, one still spotted, have been frolicking about various sections of the farm. And the skunks, bless them, seem to have moved on.
The sun was out yesterday and I rushed outside to begin mowing - and was, of course, met with mower problems. My riding mower, which is on its fourth season and recently underwent a major tune-up, was having belt issues. After an hour of repair efforts by my patient son, it still wasn't working - and I gave up and went mower shopping. When I returned late in the afternoon, I was the proud owner of an expensive zero-turn machine that cuts a 54-inch swath.
The mower was delivered an hour or so before dark, and the fellow who brought it patiently showed me how to use the yard monster. When he had completed his spiel and demonstration, I got on and tried my luck. It turned out to be a performance worthy of a YouTube video.
Nothing on the new mowing machine worked the way that I intuitively felt that it should. It jerked about as I tried to maneuver using only my hands, sped up each time I tried to effect a turn, and didn't seem to want to stop when I did. At one point it even shot out into the road with me struggling to stay in the saddle - and the deliveryman running out beside me frantically waving his arms in case any of the neighbors came barrelling by in their cars. Fortunately I had caught a break in the traffic.
I was reminded of a story Aunt Mary once told me about my Grandfather Macy's one and only attempt to drive a car. She said that he went round and round in a pasture yelling "Whoa, dammit, whoa!"
Today I will be out "practicing" again - on a straight stretch of land well back from the road. No doubt the neighbors will soon tire of me yelling "Whoa, dammit, whoa!"
1 comment:
...go gentle with the levers lad; that was the trick i had to master...'tis all in the touch. cheers
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