Loose Strife

[ Ray’s going to be pissed off with me for sharing this, but hey, we all need some levity around here and, Ray, almost nobody from Ashfield reads this blog…. ]
My neighbor, Ray, has helped me out too many times in the last year. Somehow I keep getting my tractors stuck in the mud or on rocks. In my defense, the old owner of my place said to me, “if you don’t get your tractor stuck, you’re not working hard enough.” Or maybe I’m just an idiot. Anyway, that’s the set up.
This afternoon just after Laura and I get home from the oncologist appointment, Ray stops by to talk about some painting. He leaves to go out to his truck and then comes back. He says, “You’re not going to believe this,” and mutters something about one-upping me. We walk around the house to the road. At first his truck is nowhere to be seen. And then I spot it, across the street, across the field, and nose first in my creek. Laura had heard the crash from inside, while Ray and I had been busy talking. The truck had rolled down the slope and threaded itself between two trees with not much more than a foot on either side.
Here’s a pick as he’s jacking up the rear to get some planks under the wheels.

We used my old International Harvester to drag it out. Hey, it’s actually good for something!
Amazingly, it looks like the only major damage is a cut brake line.