Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Tractor Incident: Part II
I don't even have to tell you where this is but I will anyway: Commenter Breezeway's Gwynn's Island cottage. It's more of the same (which I never seem to tire of) except zoomed out a bit. Speaking of more of the same, we return now to the rest of my mother's story about a tractor gone wild.
Yesterday I shared the first part of a story in which Chesapeake Bay Mother was herding cats using a Cub Cadet riding lawn mower which my father had recently "re-engineered." In other words the darn thing was long overdue for a trip to Doc Jones, the mortician for cars, trucks, tractors and scrap metal; our local Fred Sanford--but my father insisted that he could keep it running.
This particular cat herding event did not go exactly as planned, thanks to the Cub Cadet Gone Wild.
We pick up where the story left off: Chesapeake Bay Mother has successfully herded HER 4 cats into MY basement and is now preparing to head back next door.
Runaway Lawnmower - Part II
by Chesapeake Bay Mother
"...On this occasion I got back on, shifted into 3rd and sailed home.
When I attempted to slow, nothing responded. Careening around the yard with all the stops out, I rammed a tree in an effort to stop. If that jolt weren't enough, the thing immediately hauled backward, heading for our best* car. Fearing a backward collision, I leaped off the side, unaware of turning the wheel as I hit the ground horizontally, face down in our gravel driveway--and unbelievably--watched as the lawnmower backed in a circle and ran over my butt.
Husband shows up just in time to chase it down and prevent a repeat butt-crushing by (guess what?) TURNING OFF THE KEY--a thing which I totally never considered and I'm supposed to be the smart one.
Not that day.
I got up and walked away and lived to mow another day; but I got some soft tissue damage which we won't talk about. That was the same week as my yearly gynecological. You can imagine. If I had to explain the circumstances to anyone but Super Nurse Practitioner Janet, I would have been called a liar with pants on fire. As it was, we laughed and marveled at the beautiful coloration of my bruises.
Cub Cadet was sentenced to die without the possibility of living, and it was a merciful thing."
Chesapeake Bay Woman's Background Information Which is Vital To Understanding The Hidden Meaning Behind Some of CB Mother's Choice of Words
* My father collects man-toys, such as tractors, airboats, wood-burning furnaces, table saws, chain saws, half-eaten jars of peanut butter, government-issued black pens, and vehicles of all sorts. His collection includes: one VW Thing (does not run) which my mother has called the honeysuckle planter; one circa-1960 Ford (does not run); one VW bug (does not run); one VW station wagon (does not run); one VW bus (does run, rarely used); another VW bug (does run, rarely used; is missing the front passenger seat and has a hole in the floorboard); one very-used Jeep pick-up (this is my father's main driving car - he purchased it because the VW had no heat and he didn't want to freeze to death); and then finally their "best" car, referenced above towards which CB Mother was headed, backwards, on a riding lawn mower: a Chevrolet Equinox.
It isn't just their best car, it's really their only working car with heat and a passenger seat.