I suspect there are quite a few women in my life right now who are feeling lopsided, pulled in directions in which we would rather not go. But, like Mary, we just weather it, mired in the muck of dead leaves, new vines, and the ever present water sluicing past our feet.
I was wandering around in the yard Sunday afternoon after we finished mowing--following the ordeal of unloading the new lawn tractor we were finally forced to buy. Our old John Deere had lasted faithfully for 11 years, but there was no way he will make it through the next 5 on this difficult-to-mow hillside. We needed to back the truck up to the only spot on the hill where one can off-load a tractor without having vehicle ramps--which we don't have. Remember that part about the ever present water sluicing past our feet?
I told Randy to give me a few minutes to do some prep work at the spot. I knew it would be muddy under all the leaves and pine straw. My plan was to place some of the pine logs (from the last storm) across the deepest part where the truck tires would sink, and lay several boards across it for some traction. He deemed it not necessary.
Needless to say, the tires were spinning, with no place to go. Mud to the back, mud to the side, mud to the front. "Please move the truck so I can do some prep work here."
Saplings had to be cut so he could pull forward enough to be able to straighten the tires and then back up, and a sapling had to be cut at the spot where the tail gate needed to go.
All of these tasks were made unnecessarily more difficult because of lack of planning and lack of patience. My hip and knee have paid the price the last 2 days from bending over from the waist. But to point that out? Best a place not to go. Like Mary, I am a little lopsided, but better to be lopsided in peace.