So on Monday my dad was up the hills with Tom and my Uncle Bryan and got smashed up into a fence by a horse and broke some bones in his back. I heard him tell someone on the phone today that he "wasn't laid up...he could move from his bed to the bathroom and back." They were just loading the horses up to bring them home, and now here he is stuck in bed all day. I grew up helping on the farm. And I knew that it was sort of dangerous, but I don't really recall anyone getting seriously hurt all my life. I mean we got plenty of scratches and scars and we've all been chased by the mad cow that wanted to kill us, but I never thought that something like bringing the horses home for the winter was something potentially life threatening. Or like when my grandpa got hurt...his job was to stand by the fence and count the calves as they went through the gate...sounds pretty safe huh. Well apparently it wasn't. This accident (although my dad will be fine in a few weeks) really scared me. How can everything go fine all my life and now in just the last couple of years it seem so dangerous? Just some thoughts.
By the way, my sister Rose posted a pretty funny letter to the editor on her blog, you might want to link over and read it.