It was ‘Burn Pile’ day at the farm – an annual event where I burn a large pile of debris accumulated throughout the year in the middle of a field at the edge of the farm’s property. Normally I handle it with Mitch, my assistant, and at some point during the day when it has burned down to the point that we can get close, we roast hotdogs. Well…I had the notion that I should invite the entire staff of the farm for a barbeque this year thinking that I could get them to fix a myriad of side dishes in which we could partake. Since the pile had been sitting for a year, much of it was wet and that meant smoke. Not a problem for me though, since I love the smell of a good burn on my clothes. I got it started and burning well before heading in to the offices to let everyone it was time to come out and get some hot dogs.
“Oh my, John, you really smell like a campfire,” one of the women said when I entered the room.
“Yeah…isn’t it great?”
“Ewe…no…you’ll need to wash those clothes tonight,” she said.
Stupefied, I replied, “you don’t like the smell of campfire? I’m not washing these clothes ever. In fact, I may sleep in them.”
She wrinkled her nose some more.
I knew that I’d be staying late to handle a delivery that would require me to unload a palate from a semi loaded with fencing material using the tractor. This would likely make a hike impossible, so I did my best to walk, instead of use any of the farm vehicles, throughout the day. It worked. I had managed over 20,000 steps before leaving and added a couple more before retiring for the evening. It wasn’t a traditional workout, but the Fitbit kept me on task and walking. The sore shin was much better too, and so maybe I’ll give running a try tomorrow.
Bonus: 22,000 steps.
No comments:
Post a Comment