The Poky Little Puppy

It’s official, I’ve become like my father.

Anyway, I am going through the “trash” of a 15 year old daughter from Atlanta, Ga. My father used to do this to my chagrin. Now I have a hint as to why.

Now presently I live on the Cumberland Plateau in Tennessee, USA. The house is over 100 years old, and pretty much like living in a museum, which is a pain these days. I too like some air conditioning in this warm and humid time of the summer at this area, but that is silly here. Of course AC electric fans work pretty good, too, which is what I use, kinda like when I lived in Okinawa the first time. And in the winter, like most in the Northeast or the Midwest, I just wear more clothes. What’s new?

What hacked me off is one thing. What this 15 year old girl did, using initiative and hard work during a short visit, was unacceptable to me. She chose to throw away the subject book. I choose to use my standards where I live. Why should she even be so dumb to impose her standards on me?

Now what prompted all this is two-fold. First is that my handyman, screwed my tractor by poor practices. In other words, he was bush hogging in the woods, which is dumb since the tractor does not have a skid plate, and got the hydraulic lines torn up in the process, and now they leak bad. Now I have to fix it, of course, and pay the bill. Second is that we parents need to teach our kids about life at home. No male is born knowing how to work a tractor, for example. His Mom and Dad just failed him, in my opinion. And now I get to pay. So much for charity and well intentioned ideas.

There is a third factor, too. The $85 tractor service manual is now missing. And all I want to do is find out where to put in new hydraulic fluid once the repair is made by me, I hope.

So in the meantime, at least I have rescued the Poky Little Puppy book. And I still have another trash bag to go through.