I'm sixty-five years old and learned to drive tractors before I reached my teens! Lord only knows how many riding mowers and garden tractors I've driven! How many miles! How many hours! How many different terrains and mechanical problems I have defeated! But then, yesterday, while mowing my front lawn my well-worn White hooked a front tire on a Walnut tree and tried to climb it. Before I realized it was happening I found myself lying on my back, the tractor upside-down on top of me, the mower blades beating at the air above me, the engine still turning high rpm and my butt and feet still in place in the seat and footpads!
I pulled the gas lever back and turned off the ignition; then I pushed the beast off me with all my leg strength and crawled a few feet away from it, suddenly quite aware of the gasoline which had spilled out all over the whole scene, and especially all over the now-steaming hot engine parts! I checked myself out for injuries by getting to my feet and grabbing the smoking beast and pushing it over back upright on its wheels. Physically, everything worked; but I suddenly felt the urge to pee and poop; so I walked purposefully in the front door, through the house and into the bathroom. Sitting there on the porcelain throne I thought to myself: "Now, finally, I'm back to feeling like I do know what I'm doing!"
But then, as my heart began to slow its pace and the pain in my chest subsided, I remembered the whole event in slow motion and in greater detail. That mower came straight back over the rear wheels and ended up directly above me, suspended in the air by the strength of both my legs. But only the right front wheel had gone up the tree! How fortunate for me the mower didn't rotate away from that contact and twist me under it like a pretzel!
How fortunate that the spilled gasoline did not ignite and immediately burn me and the mower in one quick Whoosh! How fortunate that I landed squarely on the broad and muscular part of my upper back instead of my head, instead of snapping my neck and paralyzing me on the spot, or knocking me unconscious! How fortunate!
An hour later, I added fresh engine oil to the cooled off engine, mounted the tractor and started it up, then finished mowing the yard. Both the mower and I were normal again. Although I felt a few extra aches and pains watching Monday Night Football, even those were gone when I drank my coffee this morning and thanked those angels, and He Who sent them, for watching over me. Now comes the hard part: telling my mother and Helpmate about my mowing misadventure. I don't think I want to hear much about it from them.
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