This is the summer of new things. Most summers are pretty blissful. My husband and I often get up in the mornings, share a nice breakfast, go on a hike or a bike ride, then come home have lunch, do some jobs, attend some activities, go to art festivals--you get the idea. This summer is being dominated by my husband's knee surgery. He's out of commission for the rest of the summer. This means I'm the one getting the newspaper in the morning, checking the chickens eggs, feeding the cats and chickens, watering, mowing, weeding, weed eating, carrying garbage to the bottom of the hill, doing the laundry, icing my husband's leg, keeping him fed and comfortable. I know lots of you probably do all these things--but he's always shared in the work.
Lots of farm kids learn to move sprinkler pipes when they are twelve years old. It's a great skill, builds muscles and teaches responsibility. But I didn't grow up on a farm or even remotely close. I grew up in the middle of Orem, Utah. I played in irrigation ditches and turned on the sprinklers on our lawn and ran through the rainbirds in the park across the street and got in trouble when we dammed the ditches and made our field into a lake large enough to canoe in. So moving pipe is something I didn't do. So at age 53 it's a new experience. I have a good friend and neighbor who has come to the rescue, and another woman saw us working and helped, so I've learned a new skill. Tonight though my friends couldn't help so my husband helped on crutches. We've been spoiled. Now back to work.
