I’ve been driving since before my feet could reach the pedals. That’s the thing about country living – when there’s hay to be hauled, it’s all hands on deck. Daddy’s old farm trucks were always “granny” geared, so it didn’t matter that I couldn’t reach the pedals. Just dump the clutch, let it roll, steer toward the hay bales and don’t hit any cows.
Once my feet did reach the pedals, I became Daddy’s saving grace on many occasions. There were many afternoons I was sitting at the dining room table when I would see Daddy walking up the road, which meant only one thing. The tractor was stuck. By the time I moved out, I could have started my own Stuck-Tractor-Removal Service. Continue reading →
It’s been more than a month since I face planted going down three steps at my favorite watering hole, and I still have a bruise halfway to my knee.
I wish it were a better story for the reason I’ve been on crutches, in an ankle brace and finally vet wrap for the past 33 days, but it’s pretty uneventful. I was outside on the patio at an undisclosed location watching a Sunday football game when I came back inside and my weak ankles (weaker than that of Hank Hill) led to my demise. There wasn’t even alcohol involved – just an ankle that has known to fail me at times.
First step, right foot – fine. Second step, left foot – belly flop onto the floor. Within seconds, my ankle began to swell and bruise, looking more like those of the pink elephants in “Dumbo.” The pain was excrutiating. I’ve sprained a many of ankle in my day, but nothing crippled me more than this incident. I hobbled as best as I could to the passenger seat of my car, tears rolling down my cheeks, where I was taken home and consoled with ibuprofen and an ice pack. Continue reading →