Apparently our lawn tractors frequently break down for Father's Day. Their little gift to A., I suppose, because for two of the last three years, he's spent part of his Father's Day fixing our lawn tractor. Including yesterday. Last year, he spent it pulling the shed straight and bracing it so it wouldn't collapse on the MiL's car.
He does these things voluntarily, I might add. I told him that after the dump run on Saturday morning, he had the whole weekend to do whatever he wanted. He was paralyzed by indecision. So on Saturday he ended up painting the front porch steps and mowing, until the lawn tractor threw a blade off and then he spent another hour or so taking apart the mower deck and J-B Welding the blade back on.
Then we went down to the beach and A. went swimming with Cubby.
Yesterday morning, again, I told A. he could do whatever he wanted for Father's Day. So he re-located the movable sheep fence to create a place for the sheep to graze on the front lawn. Then he installed some heavy-gauge wire across the top of the newest stone wall in the front of the garden, to brace up the sagging gate. Then he re-attached the mower deck to the tractor and mowed a very overgrown lawn. Then he raked up the mowed grass and delivered it to his sheep to eat, as an experiment.
And then we took Cubby to a lock on the Erie Canal to fish. So I guess that was the real Father's Day treat for A. Well, that and the lamb shoulder roast I made for dinner.
A. and I obviously look for different things on our Special Days.