Kilty comes in the door, receives his hug, and we're off and chatting as though we have not had a long absence between us. I hear myself ask, "Do you have a current tetanus shot?"
"I'm hyper immune to tetanus. I'm a tetanus making machine."
That strikes me as bravado, but is in truth a factual answer. He goes on to explain the details of the program he's participating in - goal: to turn him into a producer of the antibodies that fights off tetanus. (my word stuff changed to antibodies = My vagueness on the details and nomenclature -- not his.)
While he is moving some building supplies left over from construction of the basement/library out of the pasture we plan to seed down this spring, he steps on a board that has two nails sticking out of it, right into a slot between his toes, bloodying his sock and leaving a nine penny nail hole in it... The blood is fresh. Does he gripe about the injury?
"My mom will flip out when she sees the blood on this sock."
"It's still fresh. Go wash it out in cold water."
"Wow, I put some peroxide on it and it came right out!"
So, we haul gravel, after many adventures, actually getting and unloading a ton and 6/10ths.