Today, Jilda and I practiced for an upcoming gig for a few hours. So long in fact, that my fingers felt like they would bleed if I played another song on the guitar.
When we sat down to rest for a while, we saw on Facebook where one of our dear friends lost a brother to cancer in the night. There's not a lot anyone can do in this time of grief, but Jilda whipped up a bowl of her soup, and I ran it down to their house while they were away at the funeral home making arrangements.
We didn't have a lot on our calendar for the rest of the day, so I decided to do some much-needed work that I haven't been able to do before now because of weather.
Part of the new property we purchased recently has underbrush as thick as thatch. It's how I imagine the land here in America must have looked when pioneers pushed west across the Mississippi. Progress had to have moved at a glacial pace back then as they chopped trees and cleared paths. The tools they had were broad axes, scythes, handsaws, and hatchets. A little iron and a lot of muscle doing the work.
I'm guessing at the end of the day, most of them didn't bother checking their email or play games on their iPads. Blogging was probably rare in those days. They probably hit the hay early getting as much rest as possible for their weary bones before the hacking, sawing, and sweating began early the next day.
I headed out to survey the wilderness on the new property. I have many of the same tools the pioneers used, but thankfully I've upgraded my tool chest.
In fact, I have a few angry tools that make short work of clearing. Even so, after a few hours of my joints were screaming. Jilda fixed me a hot Epsom salts bath, and I soaked. I'm guessing the pioneers didn't have those either.
People sacrificed a great deal for us to enjoy what we now have.
When we sat down to rest for a while, we saw on Facebook where one of our dear friends lost a brother to cancer in the night. There's not a lot anyone can do in this time of grief, but Jilda whipped up a bowl of her soup, and I ran it down to their house while they were away at the funeral home making arrangements.
We didn't have a lot on our calendar for the rest of the day, so I decided to do some much-needed work that I haven't been able to do before now because of weather.
Part of the new property we purchased recently has underbrush as thick as thatch. It's how I imagine the land here in America must have looked when pioneers pushed west across the Mississippi. Progress had to have moved at a glacial pace back then as they chopped trees and cleared paths. The tools they had were broad axes, scythes, handsaws, and hatchets. A little iron and a lot of muscle doing the work.
I'm guessing at the end of the day, most of them didn't bother checking their email or play games on their iPads. Blogging was probably rare in those days. They probably hit the hay early getting as much rest as possible for their weary bones before the hacking, sawing, and sweating began early the next day.
I headed out to survey the wilderness on the new property. I have many of the same tools the pioneers used, but thankfully I've upgraded my tool chest.
In fact, I have a few angry tools that make short work of clearing. Even so, after a few hours of my joints were screaming. Jilda fixed me a hot Epsom salts bath, and I soaked. I'm guessing the pioneers didn't have those either.
People sacrificed a great deal for us to enjoy what we now have.
You are right, but even with angry tools, that can be a lot of work.
ReplyDeleteI'm not showing Jack your tools...he'll have big tool envy for sure! Pioneers probably didn't bathe much so a soak for achy bones probably wasn't for them either! I'm sorry for the loss of your friend and what a nice thing to do for them...food is always appreciated at times like that. Have a good week!
ReplyDeleteWhen Bud's mother passed away, one of our friends brought us about half a dozen frozen homemade dinners--SO appreciated!!
ReplyDeleteAngry tools is a good description. Although many of the angry tools I have used decided that they were angry with me for using them. I cannot tell you how many times I have hit my thumb with a hammer.
ReplyDeletethat is very sweet to bring over soup and very much needed. One doesn't tend to eat, never mind cook, during times of grief. Sounds like you did too much but thank heaven for the bath.
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry for the lost of your friend's brother. A bowl of soup was a thoughtful act of kindness.
ReplyDeleteThat angry tool hitched on your tractor power take off looks like one of my husband's bush wacker. That what he calls it anyway.
I can't imagine how they did it many years ago. They were never working alone and used teams of oxen to move big heavy obstacles.
Have a great new week.
JB
Glad you have some good tools to work with. Sounds like a mighty big job
ReplyDeleteOh yes Rick... ancestors and people of the past certainly sacrificed a great deal for us, I am forever grateful... it is good you had much better tools xox
ReplyDeleteOh sorry to hear about your friends loss. I'm sure the soup was greatly appreciated and so thoughtful of you two.
ReplyDeleteAngry tools? Sometimes its the tools that wear and tear ya more than the work itself.
Lisa
I don't envy you this job, even with terrific tools.
ReplyDeleteI'm jealous, never had a tractor that nice! I still have an old Massey somewhere, and a sorry Yanmar that needs mucho work.
ReplyDeleteBut I want that red thang with big tars. ;-) I don't know how I missed this. (smile)
Very thoughtful of you guys at the loss of friend. No one has enough friends that they can spare one. BUT life and death are not partial.
I have never been on a tractor nor has any of my family we are city folk although my mum grew up in the country they didn't have a tractor, hell they didn't have a car, they did have a horse though. Mum says it wasn't a one horse town it was a one car town
ReplyDeleteSorry about your friends loss!
ReplyDeleteGreat tools and tractor! Have fun!
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