"A false sense of security is the only kind there is." Local bard David Whyte said this, and it knocked a dent in my if I'm good everything will be all right mentality. Here is some of the week's risky business.
I canned peaches and apricots. Lifting 30-pound canning pots filled with boiling water and glass jars, the delicious it-might-explode-whew-it-didn't emotional arc.
When I pulled the apricot jam out of the boiling water, one jar hadn't sealed. Sometimes the jars seal up just fine in a few hours, but I didn't want to take that chance. I pulled the lid off right away and ate warm jam with vanilla ice cream. This is perhaps its own kind of health risk.
Higher stakes happened when giving a visiting child a ride on Duke. Dad stepped back from securing her to take a picture, and I heard a sack-of-potatoes thump as the kid hit the grass. Wails ensued. She had a helmet on (horseback Rule #1 here) but I also had the wind knocked out of my sails. Besides the dreadful fact of causing a small child to cry, in a litigious society, I know I'm one incident away from potentially losing the farm. "She's fine, just surprised and embarrassed," said Dad. So am I. But if I don't give pony rides, what's the use of having ponies?
What are the biggest risks in your life? Do they feel worth it? I'll contemplate my false sense of security while I eat some more jam.