Thread by @homemadeguitars

In the autumn of 2018 I looked across the pasture fence at my old pasture pet donkey, Abe. Abe was 16, lame, and his only "training" was to accept a halter, be led, and accept farrier services. Hoof trimming. And I decided to train him to pull a cart. Pretty vague.

We worked through September and October, and on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving I hooked him to an old 2 wheel cart my wife owned.
It didn't go well. I had rushed him. Shouldn't have been to that stage for maybe months yet.
I didn't really know what I was doing. Still don't. 🤷

As he ran, full speed, pulling me and the cart, toward the gate back into the barnyard, I realized I was in serious trouble.
He'd fit through the gate OK but the cart was roughly twice as wide as the opening. We weren't going to fit.
I should have shut the gate.
Another lesson.

At the last minute I dove off the cart. 71 years old, 220 lbs, I landed at full donkey speed, on my right shoulder.
I lay there in agony. My wife came to check. I was crying, not from pain, but from failure.
"I don't want to fail at this."
That was the day I fully committed.

This coming week, then, marks my three year point. All my writing, my view on climate and ecosystem degradation, my donkey powered life, I date back to that Wednesday, to Thanksgiving of 2018.
Abe is now retired. I still learn.

Three years of learning. Three years of thinking. Three years of writing. Three years of "Nobody will do that."
Within two weeks I was able to dress myself without help. Over the next year I got rid of 30 pounds of flab. Got the girls. Kept learning.
Three years this week.