Wanting to surprise my very special agent by clearing a front road before he came home from his ugly Washington DC commute, I grabbed my cowboy hat and heard the screen door slam.
"I'll be out on the tractor!" I yelled to the sleepy-eyed kids. This all felt very cool.
I vaguely recalled David's ominous tidbit yesterday evening as we were bush-hogging the meadow and watching the sun set (not quite as romantic as it sounds, but still very nice). He said off-handedly "You know, there are several people each year who die from tractor accidents." For added impact (or maybe because I did not look appropriately appalled), he added a not-so-subtle warning "...you need to know your limits when you drive a tractor."
All this did not dampen my enthusiasm for taking back the land.
Just like the most wasted words in the world are "Be careful!" to Hall boys, the phrase "You need to know your limits" is just foreign to me.
One must test her limits always.
And now I know.
Wild blackberry bushes and fragrant honeysuckle vines are not as important as finding a suitable place to turn a 1950's diesel tractor.
ohhhhh, how you make me smile!!!! :)
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