Yesterday we had Alex (grandson) here at The Ford Homestead as he was sick and could not go to school. To make a short story longer, he had a fever and later in the day was taken to the doctor. The diagnoses was, “strep throat”, again.
Later in the afternoon, I decided to manicure the front yard, even though it looked fairly good, and I would let the back yard go for another days labors. As usual, I mowed the yard twice to insure an even cut, plus, would you believe, the yard enjoys the feel of the mower wheels rolling over it, first in one direction and then in another. It can be considered somewhat like a back massage, but for the yard.
After mowing, I procured the string trimmer and expertly trimmed the appropriate areas. Note, I did not use the words professionally trimmed, instead choosing to use expertly, as I consider professional lawn personnel somewhat less than experts.
I completed my work and put the tools away.
The grass in the back yard was tall and needed to be mowed. I then *changed my mind and decided to mow the back yard, even though I was already tired, and had put the tools away.
My weary body began to get the necessary equipment, in an effort to shear the grass of the Homestead back 40. I was trying to hurry, which was making it extra stressful, as I not only needed to mow, I also needed to pick the black berries, water the potted plants and the garden, along with getting the leaf blower out and blowing the grass off the street and drive (I had failed to remove the grass clippings out front, due to being exhausted).
I had trimmed the fence line and other areas on the back 40 using the string trimmer, and then I climbed aboard the riding mower. Being able to ride the last portion of the process was a blessing, until I attempted to park it and get off. My pour old body was already stiff and sore, when I got off. I wasn’t sure I would be able to walk to the house.
I considered trying to make it to the kid’s fort, but I knew I would have to stay on the down stairs level as I did not have the energy to climb to the second floor bed room. Somehow, I was able to gather enough energy to make it into the Homestead.
I needed a shower in the worst way, but my first wife refused to bathe me. It was hard to believe after hours and hours of forced labor, she would refuse my one small request. I had to wash my pour tire body myself.
Finally, washed clean I stumbled to my recliner and fell into it. Would you believe I didn’t have enough energy to make the chair recline?
The title of this well composed article says it all, “Hurry not, lest ye be weary”. When you are forced to labor in the fields, with no rest, the sun beating down on you, take your time, do not hurry, they will eventually hire more help!
Wait a minute, am I writing of my forced labor,
or about the Government’s TSA employees?
Don Ford
* Change your mind? Think about that statement for a few seconds. Stop! I asked you the think about that statement, not keep reading! Ok, now consider, how does one change their mind? It isn’t yet possible to acquire a new mind, and then change the old one out, but that might be a good thing in the future. One can change their thoughts, so why don’t we say, “I changed my thoughts”? Those who coin this type phrase, should always come to me before they make the final official phrase decisions.
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