Later than Expected

Well, I’d have to say the man sounded like he knew where he lived and the best way for me to get there from where I was. Sounded like he knew. As it turned out, I’m a bit less convinced of that now than I was yesterday evening.

That’s when Randa and I drove over to Oak Grove, Missouri, to pick up our new horse. This one is so calm, laid-back and well trained that even an idiot should be able to ride him without getting hurt. And he looks cool, too. In addition to buying my first horse at the tender age of not-quite-sixty (me, not the horse), I also wanted to pick up a small disk to use for working ground around the place here.

I’d searched Craigslist and found lots of large disks that were apparently made for farmers who prefer to till their three thousand acres in a single afternoon. I preferred one that would fit inside something smaller than an airport hanger and could be pulled by something with less than eight thousand horsepower. I found a disk that was in good shape and seemed small enough that a few young children should be able to pull it around. Provided, of course, they were well fed and the harness fit properly.

So, I called the fellow, asked the price, thought it was reasonable and told him I’d take it. And, since Excelsior Springs was only fifteen miles or so from where we were going to get the horse, I thought it’d be mighty handy to get both in one trip.

I did see the wisdom of not loading the horse and the disk both into the trailer. If you’ve ever seen a disk, you will agree with me that having a few hundred pounds of metal frame with a couple dozen sharp metal blades suddenly go flying into the back of a horse might impede his gait a bit. But, I was pretty sure the four-foot wide disk would easily fit into the back of the pickup truck we’d borrowed to pull the trailer.

It did. After we drove eighty miles out of our way to get to a place that was not more than twenty miles away from where we were at the time I called Man Who Owns Disk to get directions. Three minutes with a road map would have saved us nearly an hour of driving.

That is why we should spend more time reading our Bibles than listening to some guy who thinks he’s figured out when the world is going to end. Of course, as long as you eventually get to the right destination, it’s all good, I reckon. But there are some trips where it really is better to not have to take the long way around.

H. Arnett



About Doc Arnett

Native of southwestern Kentucky currently living in Blair, Kansas, with my wife of twenty-five years, Randa. We have, between us, eight children and twenty-one grandkids. We enjoy singing, worship, remodeling and travel.
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