I Count My Lucky Stars
This week was hot. Stupidly hot.
We cut our hay last week. Chris raked it over a few days later, ensuring it would be dry all the way through. It then got bailed without a problem. He came home Wednesday, after his day of doing asphalt in 47 degrees and headed to the tractor. His plan to load all the bales onto the wagon, and get them tucked away before Thursday night’s rain.
And that’s when it happened. He was at the furthest end of the field and a belt snapped, the air conditioning now broken. He drove all the way back in the tractor sauna. I went out to meet him at the barn, knowing something was amiss with his head now under the hood. He greeted me with a kiss and a hug and asked about my day. Now if I was in his shoes, I would have been cursing and completely losing my shit.
But not Chris. One of the many reasons he is so amazing. He takes everything in stride. He kept his cool and was as pleasant as always. He found the problem and headed off for a new belt.
I got home from deliveries at 8:30 p.m. He had fixed the tractor and was back at it, working until long after dark. When he did come in, he was smiling and joking just like any other day. Not sure what I did to be so fortunate, but believe you me, every day I count my lucky stars.