Johnna and I have been traveling for a couple of weeks, a really fabulous trip to Lisbon and southern Portugal. Exploring the beaches of the Algarve. Returning, it’s taken me a few days to get back on my stateside schedule. Eastern Standard Time. I’ve been going to bed at 8:00 or 9:00 PM and getting up at 5:00 or 6:00 AM. Not like me at all. I’m usually a night owl.
But it’s getting better, and one thing that helps is being active, just jumping right back into the days. Moving, exercising, pushing the clock back.
This past week’s weather has been a big help, sunny, and getting into the 70’s some afternoons. It’s still February but beginning to feel like Spring, and the coming of Spring in the South is one of the best times. It’s also the last month to get pruning done on foliage and fruit trees, so we invite any kids who can get away and head up to Blue Ridge for the weekend.
Our two youngest, Luke and Jack, make the trek up from Atlanta on Saturday night. Luke has just graduated from Georgia Tech and is leaving next week for an extended road trip out west. Skiing, climbing, hiking. Jack is a junior at Kennesaw State and wishes he was going. Soon enough dear boy. They’re both just naturally affectionate young men and greet us with smiles, hugs and kind words all round. As always, really a pleasure to see them both.
Two strapping young men, and plenty of work to do. Johnna is in heaven. First thing we do is fill up the bird feeders. Because this immediately makes us tons of new friends who will always be happy to see us. Then, all the fruit trees need pruning, apple, cherry, and peach. A neighbor was going to bring his tractor over so the boys could climb up in the bucket and get to the high stuff. Unfortunately it has transmission problems so instead we pull the pick-up next to the tree and set the ladder up in the bed. It works pretty well and what the boys can’t get to climbing, they can reach from the ladder.
And it’s not just fruit trees. Large crepe myrtles have to be cut back. Twenty foot tall evergreens. Walnut trees. Dogwoods. Blueberry bushes. Grape vines and decorative shrubs of every variety. My beloved yellow rose of Texas, which will have a hundred tiny roses at a time bloom in the Spring. Brush has to be cleared off the fenceline, enough to keep it under control, not so much that the horses decide they can bust out there.
When it comes to manual labor, my talents these days lie more in a supervisory capacity. But I can cook, so the task of keeping everyone fed falls to my watch. I carve up and brown some top sirloin, and put it into a crock pot with gold potatoes, carrots, and sweet yellow onion. Left to simmer for five hours or so we have a fine batch of beef stew. What my grandmother used to call Irish Stew, a nod to her Scotch Irish Celtic heritage. I also whip up some buttery mashed potatoes and dinner rolls. Hearty comfort food to fuel the crew.
Gary Lee, a neighbor and good friend, stops by. He’s recently had a heart attack and had a stent put in. I know the feeling, having had a similar operation several years ago. Gary says he’s feeling like a new man, just dropped by to lend any advisory help we might require. And maybe have some home cooked dinner. We’re on the porch bonding over our health when Luke walks up, looking a little sheepish.
“We might have a situation down here,” He offers.
“The truck is stuck.”
We all take a walk down to the barn, where the truck is turned at a funny angle, soft wet grass spun into mud all around. He’s not the first to get stuck here. Rain water flows downhill toward the barn, and it’s deceptively shady and wet. Takes a long time to dry out. And we’ve had some heavy rain in the last week.
The boys are, plainly, at a loss. For Gary and I, it’s a minor issue, and easily solved. Nothing like experience, and we’ve both had our share of stuck trucks over the years.
I normally always have a tow strap in the trusty 4Runner, but have left it in Atlanta. Instead we back one of the other four wheel drives down close and hook a ratchet strap between the two vehicles. Nice and slow, we pull the truck out of the mud and on to dryer ground. It takes less than ten minutes.
Life is full of teachable moments, if we care to notice. Luke did the right thing in asking for help. And stopping the truck before it slid any further, into the barn. He’s stopped a couple of feet short of that. In the snow of the Rocky Mountains this Spring he might well have the opportunity to put this experience to good use. And God is of course at play, as usual, giving us this small problem to solve ahead of a larger, possibly more dangerous moment on the side of a Colorado mountain. Steep. High. Remote. Out of cellphone range.
I think I’ll send a tow strap with Luke. As a going away present. And give one to Jack for good measure. A small thing, but better to have it and not to need it, than need it and not to have it.
Send those boys up here! There’s work to be done and this fossil just can’t pull his weight like he used to do.
Know the feeling Harry. Good to have some young uns to call on.