Soiled and Foiled

I’ve been working for my dad this summer. Collecting soil and plant samples. Driving. Digging Holes. That’s what I do.

But not today…today I wrecked the company pick-up.

Well not really wrecked so much as left the truck in drive and walking 20 feet away only to see it gaining speed and hitting an irrigation circle...and then bouncing back from the inertia to hit again.

My thoughts went something like this (as I was literally jumping through the driver's-side window I had conveniently left down), “Dad is going to kill me!”

A few choice words, many hugs, and an “I’ve done it, too” said by my dad later and I am still alive.

The truck’s radiator on the other hand…

A Post in Which I Write a Letter to My Blog

Dear Blog,

It’s not you. It’s me.

I know I haven't written in a while, but I’ll write again soon.

Not an empty promise to you, my dear blog, I just needed to break the ice of our awkward silence.

Consider it broken.

Love, Ande