What's a boy to do?

Last week I spent an afternoon rolling and pitching sun-dried hay by hand onto the back of a tractor...in 90 degree heat, trousers, and a fountain of sweat to say the least. With pitch-fork in hand, our method wasn't too far separated from that of, say, a group of Ugandan farmers. (Any signifcant difference being the fact that our Ugandan brothers would likely have used horses as opposed to our circa 1970 John Deere.)

Needless to say, the workout from that day could easily diminish any full body regimen one might find at Gold's Gym.

Today, however, I found myself on top of said John Deere for nearly 5 hours as I did some "trim" work around our pecan orchard. (Trim work around a 30 acre plot of land doesn't exactly involve an electric weed whacker, if you catch my drift.) With virtually the same 90 degree heat beating down on me, the closest thing to excercise I experienced was in putting all my weight on the clutch as I attempted to switch gears.

Then I got a bit of a visit from Uganda. At the 5 hour mark, the PTO shaft busted loose from the tractor, forcing me to climb down and wrestle with the grease, dirt, and heat radiating from the metal beast. So, just as I found myself missing and wishing for the experience of "developing world" manual labor---*BOOM*--the PTO shaft opened up the door to Uganda.