“It is like trying to find a needle in a haystack” now has a new meaning for me.
Son John is cutting almost waist-high hay in a 10-acre patch, a field just below my house. Suddenly he has a job for me.
He has lost a cutting knife of the mower, and it has to be found before it punctures a tractor tire. All I need to find it is a magnet and possibly a pitchfork.