Sometimes I Crack Myself Up

Apparently all the meds I'm currently on must be working somewhat, as this morning I actually found myself laughing at work. It's been quite a few weeks since I've laughed about anything, once I thought about it, and I'm guessing that's probably the result of the lingering cough and what-ever-this-is that I've been battling health wise since Christmas or thereabouts.  I know I'm feeling a little more energetic the last 24 hours or so, and now I find myself with a sense of humor again, so I must be on the mend.

Anyway, this morning I learned to drive the skid steer.  I've driven tractors for decades, and am quite adept at running (and troubleshooting) a tractor and the various implements one uses with one on a horse farm. But today was the first time I had driven a skid steer.  I'm pleased to say I was given a good review once my time in the cab had ended today.  So I can add 'run skid steer' to my resume now.  Gotta love the things farming exposes you to.

You would think, given the probability of something going very wrong very quickly with such a powerful piece of equipment, that the controls would have been handed over to me in the wide open outdoors.  Perhaps in the middle of a field, where it would be difficult to run into anything while getting a feel for the joystick that steers that piece of heavy machinery.

Nope.  The skid steer was parked in the aisle of the barn, about twelve or fifteen feet from the door, when I was instructed to get in it.  A brief overview of the controls followed in the next minute or two (I said it was brief), then the door of the cab was shut, and it was totally up to me to get that thing out of the barn without destroying anything.  I had about a foot of clearance on each side of the machine, so a little wiggle room but not much.  Especially with the loader bucket protruding from the front.

So I drove slowly, cautiously, trying to get a feel for both how much play was in the joystick (not much) and how wide and long the skid steer was.  As I practically inched my way down the aisle and out of the barn, I started laughing, imagining my skid steer tutor thinking that I drove the skid steer like a granny.

And, because I am a grandmother, and I was driving the skid steer (picking up speed now as I got more confident), it just struck me as an incredibly funny and ironic statement.  Driving a skid steer like a granny!

Maybe an oxymoronic statement too. I mean, how many grandmothers can drive a skid steer?  Not to many, I bet.  So how cool am I, that I can drive a skid steer?

Sometimes I crack myself up.