One of Knox County’s worst gravel roads took me home from the feed mill the other day. I found a break in the rain where could help load a ton of chicken and hog feed in the back of the pick-up. I watched them ground the corn that had been delivered from the fields around my house — including the farmer who delivers his corn one tiny grain cart at a time, several times per day during harvest. They put it into bags and we loaded it up and I took it home. You have to stomp on the gas three times before the truck will start. She requires a bit of “feathering” on the drive home if you’d like to avoid stalling.
Anyway I’m pretty sure it was the sexiest thing I have ever done in my life. I probably lost a few points when I buried the truck in our muddy yard 40 seconds later and I had to call AAA for a wench.
But.
I stab things with needles and burn things and herd things into their pens and milk things all of a sudden. Did anybody else see this coming or am I the only one who is surprised by us?
How am I supposed to go back to work tomorrow with a straight face?
he said/she said