And to think I was this . . . close to making it.
It would have been a first, had I succeeded. This . . . dang close!Victory was in sight. Just minutes away. This . . .close.
What am I babbling about?
Take a look.
Yep, that is one stuck lawn mower.
It seems every year I get stuck somewhere, somehow. Now that my daughter-in-law is doing most of the mowing my chances have been greatly reduced. Apparently, not enough.It was such a beautiful day and I just wanted to ride, relax and reflect on the green machine. I had been mowing a couple of hours with just a tad more to do.
I was mowing next to a smallish ditch and it was still wet from the rains and had some pooh residing there. All it took was for the back wheels to slide into the gunk and faster than you can say John Deere green I was sucked in. I attempted to drive forward, sideways every way possible. I tried to back up and actually started moving. For a Nano second I had hope. False hope that was soon covered in mud and pooh and was sent sailing as the spinning wheels spewed it heavenwards.“Crap,” I thought. “Crap and double crap”. “How am I gonna get out of here without Farmer seeing me?” I pondered.
I called son #4. “I’m sucked in the mud too deep to get out, can you help me?” I whined into the phone.A few minutes later he drove around the corner in a tractor. Funny he didn’t even walk out to see how bad it was. I wonder if it ever crossed his mind that maybe mom wasn’t too badly stuck that he could just push me out. History taught him well and he just came with the big guns.
After assessing the situation, he had to go back to the shop to get a smaller hook for the chain. While I was sitting there waiting, Jake (my previous boy – for you newbies, Farmer hired Jake several years ago to be my work boy – to do what I needed so I wouldn’t bother him. Well, Farmer soon stole him and now he is no longer my boy.)anyway, he noticed my predicament and stopped to see if I needed help. He knows who butters his bread and chocolates his cookies. (He has eaten many a meal with us.)
I explained that Son #4 was coming back.When he returned, Son #4 crawled under the back of the mower and hooked the strap on, instructing me to hold the hook until he could drive ahead enough to keep the strap tight.
Easy enough.
I was then told to back up while he was pulling me with the tow strap. “No problem, of course I can back up” I thought just before I stepped on the forward pedal. Pooh and mud rained down. Son #4 was safe in the cab. I enjoyed the shower.
The second try was magic. Ever so gracefully I backed out. Now the lawnmower and I both needed a bath and disinfection.
What is the one delightful portion of this event? Farmer never knew.Until now.
So, here is my request to all my faithful readers.Please leave a comment as to why Farmer shouldn’t holler, roll his eyes or ban me from the lawnmower.
We will all sleep better tonight if we all cooperate. 