News from the Bitterroot...

Whenever I mowed the lawn, Dad would always watch. I would make laps around the lawn, and as I turned toward the house, Dad would suddenly be standing by the front door, arms folded, in his garments and pajama bottoms viewing my progress. I would do a couple laps with him standing there. Then on a lap as I turned toward the house, he would have disappeared back inside. Then, after completing a few more laps, he would reappear.

Once, Dad was trying to fertilize the lawn. He was pushing the fertilizer across the slope of our lawn, and I could observe the weariness in his face. His mouth open, gasping for air. I could also see that he was losing control of this fertilizer. His momentum could not be stopped. He tripped and fell over the fertilizer onto the grass.

In the middle of the night, I heard Dad cry out. I rushed out into the hallway and turned on the light. I looked around and I could not see Dad immediately. I looked down on the floor, and there he was, sprawled out on the carpet. I also spotted Montana scurrying away, with her tail between her legs. Dad revealed to me that he had tripped over Montana in the darkness.