Anyway, now all I need is a welder to fix keep the bucket repaired, an air compressor, a wealth of engine repair knowledge, more advanced understanding of hydraulics, a covered area to keep the tractor in and, oh yeah, time to absorb this new "hobby?".
The nice thing is the tractor carries me back to the wooded property in Homosassa (quite the accomplishment since it struggled to make it up the drive behind my house ;-). It's amazing, but the smell of the hydraulic fluid more than anything brings back the rush of of memories. The old growth Florida woods, the sping in the front yard with the small stream trailing to the river in the back, and the constant badgering I inflicted upon my grandfather to take me out on the tractor and into the wilderness (the 10 miles of dense woods and swamp the lay between their house and the gulf). It was any child's dream... and probably a nightmare for my grandfather. Given continued badgering along with my constant refrain for him to stop smoking, its a miracle he didn't take me out there and just drop me off. I think my grandmother was my sole salvation. I'm trying to recount the number of times I impeded on my grandfathers space... let's see, when I snapped his best fishing pole... or when I destroyed his wire wheel brush to strip the bark of my hiking staff. The constant questioning... can I take the raft out, can I take the canoe out, can I use this pole or that that pole, do you want to go fishing... Then there the cry for Lucky Charms, a cereal that I would NEVER get at home. Ahhh, it's amazing he even spoke to me after those ordeals.
1 comment:
To Jeff from Mom
In later years your Grandfather talked about memories from that time, too. He spoke of your summer visit and emphatically about the "encouragement to stop smoking". He said you would not quit telling him about the harm of cigarettes. For that memory, his preferred choice was to drop you out in the marsh or the river! :-)
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