Ronda Rich: machines and Men

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It has been a couple of years because I discussed the story of the riding mower and Tink, but I’ll remind you what happened so I can segue into a different narrative of a guy and a riding mower.

We were recently married when Tink came home from an errand and found pot cutting zero turn mower, with a Bush Hog-brand. Since I was 11 when Daddy brought home a grim Sears Roebuck riding mower which lasted and even had headlights I’ve been cutting grass.

Immediately, Tink wanted to take cutting grass. I don’t know he had cut grass with a lawn mower. He arrived from Los Angeles in which he hired someone. I had been skeptical about it, as you probably know, the zero finishes (the mowers with handles, not steering wheel) take a bit getting used to. So that I showed him how he persisted.

“Go over to the side and also clinic flat floor,” I stated. “And regardless of what you do, do not attempt that embankment. It needs to be carried out with a weed eater. It is really dangerous.”

When I had a sudden feeling, I started back to the home. I wished to stop him not wanting to damage his ego and turned to look at him, I swallowed the words. I prayed that God Almighty would keep him secure. I moved down to spray on thistle to the very front pasture. The mower hadn’t been 15 minutes since I had left Tink I saw the cat, Mississippi, working for his entire life and found a commotion that was thunderous. Then, silence. No mower.

He had heard a lesson, although he wasn’t hurt. As soon as I had been out of sight, he still travelled for the embankment, lost control, went flying down the mountain, jumped the rock wall (dividing a bit) and flipped the mower. My prayer, I’m convinced, had saved him. He says he was scared with a rush of adrenaline, so he raised the mower and righted it before I got there.

Kabe Cain, who possesses us all our gear, always worries security. After he delivered a new tractor, he stated, “Miss Ronda, always use your seat belt. In the event you do and the tractor ends up, you’re going to get awakened but you won’t have killed.” I’ve got my seat belt , before I turn the key on the toaster. It is the very first thing I do.

After my cherished brother-in-law, Rodney, came to teach me the way to bush hog the pasture together with the tractor, he took off with no seat belt. He also gave him a lecture on that which he ignored.

I kept having a premonition concerning the Bush Hog mower turning with a person on it. Maybe me. Therefore, we introduced a commercial backyard with seat belt and roll bar. Again, Kabe explained, “Always use your seat belt.” And I really do.

The sole Tink, the initial mower ruined, we shot down to Mama’s home in which there was a friend staying for some time. His duty was to cut the grass. Mama’s yard is level, and so I felt that was secure but nevertheless I cautioned, “Do not make use of the mower to cut that little embankment near the road. Use the weed eater.” I think I said this three to five occasions.

I don’t understand what it is all about machines, men and me. Nobody listens. Sure enough, the mower turned over and got trapped. He was trashed and had a finger by God’s grace, not severely injured.

“Can you tell him, ‘I told you so’?” Rodney asked.

My head shook. “No.”

Rodney smiled believing incorrectly that I had learned. “That’s great,” he said with nodding approval.

I smiled back ever so. “But I am planning to,” I winked, ” as soon his finger heals.”

Ronda Rich is the best-selling writer of “Mark My Words: A version of Mama.” Visit www.rondarich.com to register for the free weekly newsletter. Her column appears Tuesdays.