Tripping to Ramona

My cleanup guys didn't come through this summer yet, so the little Ranger and I are having to deal with things on our own. In the picture here, the pickup looks like it's grown a Rastafarian hairdo. When I arrived in Ramona with my load, passing, as always, the corner with the stone marking my grandpa's property, I found my aunt Celia tilling the little garden ("before it rains!") and my great-aunt (sort of) Kathleen Huntimer mowing the grass ("before it rains!"). It didn't rain. Celia showed me through the house she and her husband Gene have been renovating there, and on the second trip I saw my aunt Kathy, who helped yank the load onto her burn pile. On each trip north, I saw one of the many trucks hauling wind turbine parts to or from the area. Yesterday was a good testament to the value of wind turbines in SD, though today has begun bright and calm.
Today we head south to see one of Sanford's experts (Dr. Hurd) who's going to tell me what the heck is the matter with my knee. (You think I should tell him about bouncing up and down packing branches into the back of the pickup?) I'm hoping he can thump some tendon back into place and it will be as good as new. I suspect it will be something less instantaneous.