by Pa Rock
Farmer in Spring
It rained last night, I didn't hear it, but the yard is soaked this morning. It also rained the night before last, and that one I heard. It was a grand storm.
This year I changed my mowing schedule from once every fourteen days to once every fifteen days, figuring that would save me one complete mowing cycle over the course of the summer. My lawn mower is a very big machine that requires the highest grade of gasoline, and a complete mowing is currently running right at twenty dollars, so shaving off the occasional mowing helps with the finances. This past Monday was day number fifteen on the mowing cycle, but there was a forecast of rain which finally came that night, so I demurred. Yesterday there was also a forecast of rain, so I put it off one more day and it rained last night. Today and tomorrow the weather forecast is also for rain, but the yard is beginning to look so awful that I suspect I may have to get on it today - if and when last night's rain evaporates from the grass. More rain is forecast for tomorrow, and I have a medical appointment at midday - so it all could slide to Friday - day nineteen - and if it gets that far I may just bring in a hay crew and bale it!
I had vowed not to put out any hanging baskets this year because of all the water that I had to carry last year during the droughtr to keep those hanging baskets alive. But last week I went to the local nursery and purchased several - and they are up, and they are beautiful! The nursery also had in a shipment of healthy, vibrant roses, and I bought three to add to the three in my rose garden from last year - and I have space for two more. Roses require careful planting and lots of feeding, but they are well worth the effort - just as long as Melania Trump never comes near them!
I fell down a week ago today as I was planting one of the rosebushes. I had been on my knees getting the plant situated properly, and as I started to get up I realized that I could not seem to get into the right position for rising. I had a shovel with me for support, but even with that I wasn't successful. I finally managed to get to a standing position with the aid of the shovel, was upright for just a second or two, and then fell straight backward and bounced my head on the ground as I made contact. I was within ten feet or so of the paved county road, and though lots of people drove by, no one stopped to see if they could be of assistance. It took about ten minutes for the stranded yard walrus to once again right himself and get to his feet.
That is the fourth fall that I have had in the past twelve years, and each time that I have banged my head harder than Todd Rundgren bangs his drum. So far my skull has remained intact, but two of the falls did result in broken arms. The first serious, head-banging fall occurred on a slick cement ramp while I was on a tour of Vietnam, and I had plenty of people around to offer assistance, but the last three have been at the farm in West Plains and each occurred while I was by myself and without a phone. It doesn't seem like I am getting any smarter as I age.
I suspect that I may have glimpsed my ultimate demise.
The grass she grows, and Pa Rock he mows, and sometimes he falls down and bangs his head.
That's life in the retired lane.
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