Back To Our Roots
Snafoo_28
Published
07/09/2011
Another day's work was almost complete. I'd cleared almost half an acre of woodland. Surrounding the work area, untouched oaks and pines still stood, of all sizes, showing my true progress. I still had much work ahead of me, but this job would be continuous, even through the winter months.
Dropping those tall trees, cutting them up, and dragging them away. Sounds tough. But the old man had bought a new tractor for this project. This big machine could easily pull up all these roots. The full forty-plus acres, fairly level valley property, should be ready to plow by late February. Why the hell the old man would want so much damn corn, or whatever, is beyond me. His money, his idea. I guess he knows what's best. At least I could work outdoors. That's a plus for me.
I had noticed Ed making his way down the hill. Slowly, but surely. I have to remind him sometimes that he's no young buck now. Maybe I'll have the spunk that ol' boy has when I reach his age. Maybe. He insisted I call it a day. I promised I'd shut it down after I got the last couple of roots pulled out and started one of the piles to burning. I could use a break, that's for sure.
It was Friday afternoon. Later in the evening, I had planned to enter a pool tournament at the local pub. Good friends will gather for beer, games, and laughs. A typical Friday night in our small town. If I get bored, it's only another twenty minutes to the next larger city, full of fun on the weekends. Yeah, looking forward to the weekend. But for now, I should enjoy this tall glass of sweet tea, sitting on the deck admiring the work completed.
I was doing well. Life was good. The old man insisted on paying me a little extra every week. "If I didn't have it to give to ya, I wouldn't have asked you to take on this job to begin with." He'd say each time, almost word-for-word. "You sure that's enough, now?" He demanded a response and wouldn't quit until he got it. "I guess that'll hold me for a few days." Just the answer he wanted to hear. A smirk and a scoff, then his wallet back in his pocket.
"Don't you spend it all in one place now, Son."
Handshake. "Alright, I hear ya. Thanks, Ed."
Dropping those tall trees, cutting them up, and dragging them away. Sounds tough. But the old man had bought a new tractor for this project. This big machine could easily pull up all these roots. The full forty-plus acres, fairly level valley property, should be ready to plow by late February. Why the hell the old man would want so much damn corn, or whatever, is beyond me. His money, his idea. I guess he knows what's best. At least I could work outdoors. That's a plus for me.
I had noticed Ed making his way down the hill. Slowly, but surely. I have to remind him sometimes that he's no young buck now. Maybe I'll have the spunk that ol' boy has when I reach his age. Maybe. He insisted I call it a day. I promised I'd shut it down after I got the last couple of roots pulled out and started one of the piles to burning. I could use a break, that's for sure.
It was Friday afternoon. Later in the evening, I had planned to enter a pool tournament at the local pub. Good friends will gather for beer, games, and laughs. A typical Friday night in our small town. If I get bored, it's only another twenty minutes to the next larger city, full of fun on the weekends. Yeah, looking forward to the weekend. But for now, I should enjoy this tall glass of sweet tea, sitting on the deck admiring the work completed.
I was doing well. Life was good. The old man insisted on paying me a little extra every week. "If I didn't have it to give to ya, I wouldn't have asked you to take on this job to begin with." He'd say each time, almost word-for-word. "You sure that's enough, now?" He demanded a response and wouldn't quit until he got it. "I guess that'll hold me for a few days." Just the answer he wanted to hear. A smirk and a scoff, then his wallet back in his pocket.
"Don't you spend it all in one place now, Son."
Handshake. "Alright, I hear ya. Thanks, Ed."
3 Comments