A Dance with Death
There is on memory that I will surely never forget. A memory that leads back in time to my younger days when I was but nineteen years old. I often helped my parents with the yard work even when I did not want to. Low and behold, this day was much different from the past ones that had occurred. I am positive that if it had not been for my dad, being the brave and wonderful man that he is, I most likely would not be here today.
One beautiful summer Saturday morning, I got out with my dad to help with the yard work. I started out mowing just around the house and the already cleared out land where the kids played most of the time. After that, I started with the more difficult work. Hooking up the bush hog to the tractor, I proceeded to bush hog everything else. When I finally got a small part of our land cleared off, I took a small water break then went back to work. Unfortunately, by this time my sinuses were bothering me, to my great annoyance. My eyes were watery and red, indicating they were extremely irritated. Alas, the smell of fresh cut grass stayed in my noise no matter what I did to try to help alive it. Despite all this I continued my job, even heading up to my brothers house to bush hog his yard as well.
After finishing with my task within the comfort of being close to home, I moved on to a more dangerous location. While our little hill does indeed look good after the lawn has been taking care of, bush hogging this section still scares me. One of the busiest highways in town; not to mention it is also across the street from a handy store as well, locates our hill. Despite all that, I still have a job to do and must complete my task, albeit a little more cautiously. For some reason people tend to think that it is ok to throw all their trash on out property. Therefore, before I even get started bush hogging, I stop and get off the tractor to pick up the trash. Upon returning to the tractor to climb aboard, I do something quite...