I had an outing yesterday. It was a tractor emergency. Nor was it easy. My foot had to be wrapped in a plastic Thank You Bag and I clung to the tailgate of a pickup so that I might be driven at very high speed to the barn where The Artist had the internal workings of the tractor engine revealed, and there were bits here and there, and there were wrenches I'd long thought lost to the Fox Squirrel.
I cast an expert eye on the progress, asked what I believed
were sensible questions, and soon realized I was so far out
of the loop I might just as well have been a wall hanging. I
was asked to hold a rubber thingy that was attached to a
metal thingy while the Artist pulled on some kind of oily
thingy, pronounced herself satisfied and on the way home I
waved at the Compost Piles.