Living with intent, social engagement, learning, growing, giving
When we moved to the farm we had a Sigma car designed for driving in town. The entrance track connecting our farm to the highway was rough and included 3 creek crossings and that meant that the poor old Sigma couldn’t cope. My parents bought an old beaten up Land Rover. It had a single bench seat in the front with no foam left under the vinyl seat covers and heavy steering. It was very uncomfortable but I was only 5 and I liked sitting in the middle of the front seat next to my Dad while he drove it. It was a rugged all terrain vehicle and well suited to the task of driving up to our shed.
Our farm had partially hidden remnants that showed that a small dairy farm had operated there a long time ago. When we built our large vegetable garden we dug up interesting old glass medicine bottles and broken pieces of china. The grassy bank that we used as a urinal was above an old silage pit. One day my Dad was driving the Land Rover on the uphill side of the silage pit and the car suddenly rolled over into the pit. My Dad wasn’t harmed but that was the end of our useful vehicle and it lay on it’s side in the pit for many years after that.