I love it when I have an excuse to use my truck to do actual truck-like things. I often feel awful about the amount of fuel it needs, or the many repairs needed to keep an almost 20 year old truck running safely. But then, just as often, we wonder how the heck we ever got through life in those truckless years between the 1980 Chevy and the 1989 GMC. (My first truck and current truck; there were a couple of cars in between. I've never owned anything front wheel drive or non-Generous Motors.)
On the weekend, Susan needed a ride for a round bale. Her hubby's truck wasn't feeling well. She's done so much for me (like, I get to play with her horses!) and it wasn't any problem at all to say, "Of course we'll go get a round bale with my truck!"
We went down the road to a dairy farmer's place. It smelled like a dairy farm. I liked it. There was a cute white farm house, a big black hip roof barn, a black shed, and a couple of white cover-all sheds. His kids were bombing around in snow suits, and two big black and brown dogs came up to sniff us and wag their fluffy tails. Dude put the bale in the truck with a nice John Deere tractor - with a spike on the front. That was cool. I'd love to have a big spike thing to spear giant hay bales with. It wouldn't even be like work. Just fun. Except for the cold. Just saying.
Look how big this darn hay bale is! Believe it or not, Susan and I, two small women, shoved this thing outta the truck by ourselves! We are a couple of hardy and hearty farm girls! Whoo!
My truck looks good full of hay. And I feel good knowing that four horses have a big bale to keep them busy and make the barn full of small bales last longer.
And you know, if that what it takes to cheer me up, I'm okay with that.
Less hatred, more hay. Makes the world a better place.