Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Therapy

To be honest, this blog was started as therapy and--as you can see--I'm healed!  That, or I've simply become one more delinquent blogger.  Honestly, I didn't think anyone would read it, but someone is visiting this blog--almost every day.  I guess I owe it to you to have something here because if nothing else, farm life is...current.
I remembered this blog as the Big Guy cut down diseased trees and I loaded the remains that are large enough to save for a cold, winter day. It might have been when he was way, way up as high as the loader would go and, I was leaning out the door to keep my eye on him.  I let the bucket down too quickly.  Oops.  I think he regretted his life insurance policy in that moment.
Pause. Draft saved. 

Days later:
As I've done chores and helped around the yard the last couple of weeks, I admit there's a bit of a rush in flying full-speed across the pasture as chicken droppings roll off the tarp winging behind the four-wheeler.
There's a bit of pride in knowing how to work the massive air compressor and fill flat tires.
There's joy in working weeds and dead debris out of the flower beds.
And there's simply something good about airing out the cobwebs between my ears.

The yard swing blew down in a windstorm last week, but the Big Guy got it up and running today.  He razed an overgrown lilac hedge, had a lovely Panchero lunch with his wife, tested the new swing, and did chores.  "A pretty quiet day."

Tomorrow he heads to the farm show in Des Moines and Thursday he hopes to begin harvesting corn. 
What an awesomely wonderful life!
 

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