It should remind you of your Coal Fire experience although 53% is a little low for Coal Fire. At least, it was in the Fifties. Perhaps not now! You better watch that swearing though. My Mother always said that it did more harm than good. Anyway, Dad always did enough swearing for everyone.

When you described your mowing as shearing, it reminded me of the days that we sheared our sheep on the Goat Farm (Radiobiology Lab of the AF Weapons Lab). The humidity was never that high, and sweating was never involved, except I do remember wiping the salt from my skin and wondering where the sweat went. It was a lot of fun messing with those smelly sheep, though; and feeling lucky that it was them whose lives were condemned to death by radiation exposure in the name of science and not me. Lucky me!

Whether it was cussing the ole John Deere tractor because it wouldn’t crank, or cussing ole Sally (the milk cow) for waiting until the bucket got about one-third full, then kicking and flatening it like a pancake, and then jumping about six feet high over the gate and out of the barn, or cussing the ole blue mule because it wouldn’t pull a simple straight log out of a crooked mess, Dad could cuss with the best of them, but he got the job done. Mother always said that he could have gotten the job done without the cussing; but, the important thing, is that he got the job done (and there was always delicious, nutritious, and plenty of food on our table. Yes! He got the job done, and I bet God has looked at his life on balance and said, “Job well done”.