Tuesday, February 7, 2012




I was watching from the window my son's grandfather dig two trenches to back his pickup into ... the trenches would make the back end of his truck sit lower to the ground. This was so he could put a ramp there, it'd be low enough for the cow to walk up to go inside the bed of the truck. There were wooden sides around the bed of the truck making a 'fence' to keep the cow inside.

We had cows, and a bull in the fence. They grazed in a field of grass, lots of trees were nearby. The rock quarry was yards from the fence... they could walk to the water's edge to drink.

He would be coming the next morning to get the cow to take it to the sale. I watched him leave. I was mad at him and a thought came to my mind. I was a very young girl, and .... sometimes, mischievious. Oh yes, an idea came to my mind... I knew what I was going to do. He'd know too, when he came the next morning.

I walked outside to the garage and opened the door, went inside and got a shovel. I walked to those two trenches, stood there wondering if I had the nerve. Yes, I must have the nerve because the next thing I knew I was shoveling dirt in one of those trenches, stopping to stomp the dirt tight. I kept doing this until... both trenches were full. They weren't trenches anymore... that was even ground!

I put the shovel up and went inside to wash my hands. The next morning he came sure enough. I saw his truck stop and he got out to walk over to where the trenches should have been. I saw him look toward the house, then, back to the ground. He went to his truck and took his shovel out and... began digging two trenches, so he could back into them.

When he finished, he backed into the trenches, loaded the cow into the truck, and left. I walked back out there, got the shovel and filled, and packed those trenches again. Even ground.

1 comment:

  1. Now I know who to call when I need some digging done! Sounds like you were a bit mischievous. Probably more than I thought! Sounded like you had a good idea. Too bad it didn't work. Love, Ms. Nancy