Illinois is well known for weather fluctuations. Sunday we had a strong, cold wind but the ground was mushy, swampy, ishy, squishy, slippery. I love adgetives. Dennis and I were hauling a dog kennel and the trailer was sliding the 'wrong way' in the mud. We had to wiggle it, scoot it, lift it and grunt to get it past the telephone pole. He grunts much better than I do.
I got in the truck with mud up to my buttox and said, "I'm calling tomorrow for a load of gravel." It arrived at 8:00 a.m. As you can see the telephone pole is still standing, the dog kennel is by the shed, the loyal truck waits on the sideline, and tonight I get to play with the tractor and spread gravel. Life is good, great, fantastic and not muddy.
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