This was such a great read! My grandad was a hands on kind of guy. If he needed a part to fix something & it wasn’t available, he’d make one. My dad was a machinist and could make about anything out of metal manually. No computers on his milling machine or lathes. Those two taught me a lot about how things work so I could work on my own stuff. I’m comfortable with computers for a lot of things, but my tractor is all manual, easy to repair. The pickup has a fair amount of electronic crap I don’t have a clue about, but I know a guy… my car is another story… I can put gas in it, check the oil, I think, but the rest is all up to the technicians at the dealer. Self steering tractors. Likely safer than cars!
Keep sharing your thoughts. You always get me thinking.
I've been a city guy all my life. When I was 12 years old a classmate's parents took me out to their farm they visited every Saturday. I remember the sweetness of playing in.the hayloft and the rich smell of the animals. Your beautiful essays take me back to those days 65 years ago.
Interesting conclusion on this one, Adam. The ambiguity invites reflection.
Another gem
"The world doesn’t seem as frightening when you focus on what matters." Adam, thanks for reminding me... Great read!
This was such a great read! My grandad was a hands on kind of guy. If he needed a part to fix something & it wasn’t available, he’d make one. My dad was a machinist and could make about anything out of metal manually. No computers on his milling machine or lathes. Those two taught me a lot about how things work so I could work on my own stuff. I’m comfortable with computers for a lot of things, but my tractor is all manual, easy to repair. The pickup has a fair amount of electronic crap I don’t have a clue about, but I know a guy… my car is another story… I can put gas in it, check the oil, I think, but the rest is all up to the technicians at the dealer. Self steering tractors. Likely safer than cars!
Keep sharing your thoughts. You always get me thinking.
I've been a city guy all my life. When I was 12 years old a classmate's parents took me out to their farm they visited every Saturday. I remember the sweetness of playing in.the hayloft and the rich smell of the animals. Your beautiful essays take me back to those days 65 years ago.
Love this!