I have been somewhat preoccupied lately.
I am more familiar with the state of traffic on the M11 and M50 than I am with the state of affairs in the Big Bad World.
Basically, my life has been corralled into four compartments – visiting hospital, clearing more junk, sleeping and just sitting prone from exhaustion. Needless to say some things have become somewhat sidelined. One of those things is grass cutting. The grass is now in a terrible state but I just don’t have the time [or energy] to do it.
Daughter called around unexpectedly yesterday with four kids in tow. Three grandkids and a hanger-on. That was fine. I was utterly fucked after a rather hectic day and was glad of the company. I was even gladder at the offer of food where I didn’t have to do anything. The downside was a delivery order from a pizza shop which frankly wouldn’t have been my choice but beggars can’t be choosers? As it turned out, it wasn’t too bad.
Then came the brainwave.
I asked Granddaughter the Elder if she would like a driving lesson. She jumped at he chance, but then what fourteen year old wouldn’t? I even told her she could drive solo, which really got her excited.
I showed her the tractor mower!
Okay, it isn’t a car but it has gears and clutches and brakes and throttles so it’s not too remote from a car. It even has bits a car doesn’t have such as levers for engaging the blades and for raising and lowering them. So I showed her what bit does what and released her onto what has now become a hay field.
She had a ball.
The grass is now cut and Granddaughter the Elder is a happy camper.
Win win, as they say?.