My name is Carrie. I used to live in the country, but we moved to a village lot at an intersection. We have a couple acres & I still enjoy gardening. I like the smell of the earth. I like the sun on my skin. And sometimes I forget that I'm 15 paces from the road.
I was out barefoot in the garden. Wearing shorts & a bikini top. Weeding & enjoying the sunshine.
Then I hear airbrakes & look up to see a dump truck floating a backhoe, slowing for the intersection. The driver waves & I wave back. Then to my amusement, he stops, reverses, & waits at the end of my row. We are likely 25 paces apart so instead of shouting at each other I walk to the roadside & he says hello, beautiful day, are you new here? Etc.
Never met the guy before, but in the country people are friendly, so nothing unusual here.
Anyway, he's happy to talk & I don't mind the break so a few minutes pass & he explains where he lives & if I'm ever in his area (15 minutes away) drop in. Sure. Welcome to the neighbourhood.
So off he drives & back to the garden for me. Except that I begin to realize I've got a bit of a wardrobe malfunction, which may have encouraged a guy to back up a loaded float with a dump truck. Maybe take 10 minutes to chat with a stranger about gardening. Maybe worth being a bit late for the next paying job.
In the country my garden wasn't along the roadside, so I didn't need to keep track of my areolas peeking out of my bikini like a pair of suns rising.
It amazes me how half the adult population has breasts, & the other half acts like every peek makes a good day.
I hope the trucker had a great day. He sure seemed happy.

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