It has been a busy week on the farm. As I was in the midst of all of the random tasks I started thinking about why it is that people choose this life. Oh sure, there’s the love of the outdoors and animals, but those are both idealized views. We all know that when it is 100 degrees or blowing a blizzard you aren’t loving it with all of your heart. While cute and fuzzy, most animals can really get on your nerves for one reason or another. Then I got it.
Farm folks don’t ever want to lock themselves down to one occupation. Think about this week as an example (and as proof of why I love this life).
Friday morning started with a big storm. If it would have been snow we would have been in trouble. If it would have been ice we would be living like the Amish. We almost were anyway when lightening struck right after the alarm went off. It was so close that you could hear it sizzle in the house. The electric immediately went out and I could tell it was going to stay out. I threw on some clothes and trudged out in the pouring rain to start the generator and begin the routine that you have to follow to switch the farm over from power company to self-sufficiency. I hadn’t run the generator in a while and it took some coercing to get her started. I realized when I got it going that there would not be enough diesel to run the farm for any length of time, so I then got in the pickup and ran to town for fuel. I got home, showered, and still made it to work with five minutes to spare. Sure, it was hectic. Sure, I was soaked to the bone. I still wouldn’t have traded it for a night in a downtown loft. You can’t see the folks at the station in town at 6:30 when you do that! Some folks should really do more with their hair.
Friday afternoon I came home and tore into one of the tractors. The lift on it was bleeding off and causing the implements to slowly (or rather quickly) drop when you didn’t want it to. This can prove troublesome when your toes are under it. So, I drained off five gallons of hydraulic fluid and ripped apart the tractor. I had grease up to my elbows, but had it fixed in a couple of hours. Those hours were very enjoyable as I worked at my own pace and listened to the radio. Would I do it every day? Not on your life. I won’t hesitate to do it when the tractors around here need it, though. I also won’t hesitate to sing at the top of my lungs or sing the wrong words, either. Those are good times.
Later on I put lights on the same tractor. I’m not sure why someone thought that it would be a good idea to remove the originals (including the switch and all of the wiring), but that clearly is not an option out where there are no street lights. If you think that all situations needing a tractor happen during the daylight you might just want to reconsider. Farmer’s Law (cousin of Murphy) says that everything breaks or happens when it is pouring rain, in the middle of harvest, or about midnight. It’s just the way things are. When we lived in town I can never remember needing to put my clothes back on and go outside after going to bed, but it seems to be just another thing around here. I’ve been known to traipse around in my underwear, but it IS February, after all. Comfort and warmth are considerations. Fashion is not, as you may be able to attest on many occasions.
Yesterday I had someone cut down the dead tree in front of the house. It was 2 feet from the power line and 10 feet from the house. If you are wondering if it was $245 well spent, please see the Farmer’s Law reference above. Enough said. So, I spent all day yesterday and today cutting limbs with the chain saw, hauling off firewood, and burning all of the things I didn’t want to keep. You couldn’t pay me enough to do that stuff every day. Or give me enough Tylenol. Seriously, I am typing this with the one toe that doesn’t hurt. It will when I am done. I will also sanitize the keyboard. Yuck.
Today while hauling off the last huge load of large limbs and bark I got the grain truck hopelessly stuck behind the burning pile (thank you two inches of rain). As I crawled through the mud under the truck and hooked up the chain (and convinced Other that he WOULD NOT get the tractor stuck pulling me out) I had to laugh at the luck of it. I’d imagine that this whole episode would cause some folks to scream and throw a fit. Didn’t bother me a bit, other than to remind me of every other time I (or grandpa) had gotten a tractor stuck. After it was all done and Other made some comment about how HE hadn’t gotten anything stuck today I realized why it was we were never suppose to mention grandpa’s misfortunes after the fact. There’s something about misjudging the driving conditions and sinking a large vehicle in the mud that sure makes you wish no one was around. It also makes you wish that you had the ability to pull it out yourself and go about your business.
As I was cutting up wood and burning out the stump Mr. Roper stopped by. He was pulling the grain wagon for the other neighbor (who looks a LOT like Don Knots) down the road. He was adding extensions so that it would be ready for harvest the end of June. We also talked about replacing the U-joint in my grain truck so that it would be ready to haul wheat at harvest. Sitting in the 100 degree heat in a truck with no A/C or radio? No problem - sounds like fun to me. Mr. Roper also checked to make sure that his post hole digger would fit on one of my tractors so that I could put in the posts for the new chicken coop. Digging holes and making fence for another batch of chickens? No problem. Sure, I would rather be doing other things, but it won’t be torture and I will enjoy my time just fine. I will also enjoy lots of fried chicken.
So there you have it. Early morning electrician, heavy machine mechanic, electrician, arborist, tow truck driver/passenger, truck driver, construction crew - not bad for an average few days on the farm. See, that’s just it; I was able to do a little bit of all kinds of things. Just about the time that I wished a job was done and I was tired of it, it was over. Country folks have no fear of the unknown. Things we haven’t done are just opportunities to practice something that we will likely have to do again. There isn’t anything around this place that I would want to do each and every day, but there are millions of things that I really like doing occasionally. I guess that’s why folks in the country don’t consider it a job. It’s just a way of life.
TJR
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