The grass didn’t need it.  The weeds did.

I did, too.

I had to venture into the world of axle grease and shear bolts and bush hogs.

And the white noise………………..oh, I needed the white noise…

The fact that it was a productive exercise was a plus, too.

And, I didn’t even shear a shear bolt this time……………Tra La!

On New Year’s Day I hooked up the bush hog and tractor and I mowed the yard and the pastures.

 

I mowed and I mowed and I mowed.

It was therapeutic.

 

Nothing to think about too deeply.  Just mowing lines and avoiding rocks and stumps and big trees.

Hooking up the drive-train is always tough.

I am lacking the necessary hand strength to adequately mash in that stiff, metal, button-thingie that is meant to attach the gear-thingie to the PTO bigger gear-thingie on the tractor…………….

 

(Remember the PTO?  It still stands for Power Take-Off—–not Paid Time Off).  And it still gives me pause……………and a little more than some fear.)

 

 

It looks like a heavy-metal, finger-eating monster.

 

The hardest part was the mashing of “that” button, holding it down long enough to mesh with other gear-cog-stuff and “click”………………while at the same time, I’m hanging upside down behind the big rear tires over the unforgiving metal pokey-bits of other important tractor stuff.

Can you picture it yet?

My thumb is still stiff and swollen and bruised today.

PTO’s hate me.

I hate PTO’s.

My first attempt concluded in the mower’s drive-shaft falling to the ground when I first pulled away and started mowing…

 

Hmmmmmmm.

My second attempt worked……………and away I went.

 

What are those thingies called……………those lock-on thingies with the snap-over rings……………..?

 

I’m always loosing them…

Apparently, they are important…

 

 

Well, the mowing was ultimately completed.

I didn’t have to talk for hours (except to Patrice).

And the weeds all got whacked.

So all things considered, it was a good therapy session.

 

And here’s a plus, I still have ten fingers……..