Caturday Evening Post
January 9th, 2010 (Volume 1, Issue 28)
The Red Tractor
When I was a wee lad my mother and I (sometimes my dad too) would drive to Kentucky and spend a week in the summer with my Grandma and Grandpa Gatewood. My grandfather had this red Massey-Furgeson tractor in the back pasture at his house on Owingsville Road, Mt. Sterling, Kentucky. I always looked forward to a summer or Christmas visit, because that meant I got to ride around in the field with my grandpa and run over thistles and cow-patties.
As I got older I was eventually allowed to run amok on the tractor without any adult supervision. I always had the most amazing time riding to the far reaches of the pasture discovering skeletons and devastating every cow-pie that dared to exist. Then one day, as I was cruising along, I hit a particularly fresh meadow muffin. The speed of the tractor and the angle of the front wheel was just such that a little chunk flew right at at me and landed on my face! Fortunately for me, it landed on my cheek and I neither had to smell or taste it. Ever since, I have had nothing but respect for cow pies and I make sure to give them their space. You must respect the poo.
January, 2010 Freshly fallen snow
September, 1982 Grandpa and I