So, this was the train of thought
blossoming from my bee-sting. How wonderful to be a thinking human animal.
*****
HORSE MANURE & BUCK'S TRUCK
On Tuesday I hiked upslope to my
friend Buck's house where we'd agreed to meet and use his truck to haul horse
manure from a neighbor's place to our garden. I hadn't seen Buck since last
October but it didn't surprise me that when we met he just sort of nodded,
didn't gush all over me, or even offer to shake my hand.
Buck is an old fellow who has
worked hard all his life and accomplished a good deal. He sees things with a
level eye and doesn't care much more about social graces and clean
work-britches than I do. When I was a farm kid in Kentucky back in the 50s my impression was
that you only shook hands with preachers and insurance salesmen. All other
people you looked in the eye and you could see what they thought of you, and
you knew they could see what you thought of them, so what was needed beyond
that? Hand shaking was superfluous city- stuff, and if we'd known about the
kind of embracing and face kissing some people do nowadays we would have regarded
it as perverse.
Buck's truck was a 1928 Model AA
Ford. You could start it with a hand crank if the battery got low. When we were
climbing back upslope with our manure the truck stopped and I thought we were
out of gas because the gauge registered zero. However, Buck rocked the engine
and saw the gas-needle bob up and down, so he figured if there was enough gas
for the float inside the tank to bob up and down we weren't out. He blew on the
fuel line to unclog whatever he suspected to be stuck there, and then the truck
started with no problems.
The admirable thing about the old
Ford is that it's so simple that its problems can be diagnosed and usually they
can be fixed without a lot of fuss. Using such an unpretentious vehicle, you're
more in control of your life. This same dynamic functions at all levels of
living. The more simple your life and the more self- sufficient you are, the
less vulnerable you are to a host of potential aggravations and dangers. When I
see new cars in which you can't even open the windows by turning a handle, I
just want to spit.
How pretty it was to haul manure
with my friend Buck. What a noble thing we accomplished that day. With what
savoir faire Buck blew on the fuel line, and with what grace we pulled the
whole thing off!
*****
HOT, BREEZY AFTERNOON THOUGHTS