Day 2 of Harrowing: Why Did The Harrow Cross The Road?

I don’t know why it is that movie quips tend to run through my mind when I am stressed out. Maybe it’s because script writers have the enviable ability to express exactly what it is that we think and feel so much better than I do, but when I climbed down out of the tractor this morning – that’s right ladies and gentleman – THIS MORNING – the first screaming voice I heard in my head as I slammed the cab door behind me was of the cunning Fairy God Mother in Shrek.

“My Diet is Ruined!”

It was too. The day started out with the harrow needing to be fixed. You see, yesterday The Boss tried to gently inch the harrow up a small bank and across a short road in order to get to the next field instead of taking the time to fold it up. The next field is literally like 10 Shrek steps away, I’m serious. Folding up takes like ten minutes, so you do the math. You make the decision. I was on his side –which in Spring Work isn’t all that often.

Since Spring work started three weeks ago we have maybe been in the field 3 days, and today was the only day in between another series of storms that we have the potential to be in the field again for possibly another week. Let me put it to you in Amy terms: Memorial Day Week-end is like 6 weeks away people and that is camping season – not Spring Work Season, so this s^&! needs to get done like NOW!

But, I digress…the point here is that he chose to cross the small road to save time – which he has done numerous times in the past. Well, somehow, someway, the cable which attaches the harrow to the tractor (there are 4 of them all along the back holding the harrow in a straight line horizontal to the tractor) caught on something and it snapped, and when it snapped, the harrow gave way and bent in half.

Now, there are breakdowns and then there are BREAK DOWNS. For my “farmer by association friends,” this is a BFD (you figure that out because there will be a test in a  later blog) Anywhooo…that being said The Boss went out early this morning to fix it while I made lunches for everyone and their brother, tidied the house, did some paperwork, and cleaned up breakfast – you know my list of complaints already…He called me at 8:30 and said to get out there – the harrow was finally ready to go.

Therefore, I went, along with my coffee, coffee for the Boss, lunches for us, and even my good attitude. After all, today offered like 10 hours of harrowing possibilities and I was going to get out there and make hay while the sunshines – or so to speak because we don’t cut hay – like ever!

So, I get the first field done – you know, the one The Boss crossed the road to get to in the first place. It’s 20 acres. Again, for my FBA Friends, that only is like 45 minutes worth of round and round time. After that, I had to try and cross that same road to get back to the other side. Now, I’m not exactly sure why we crossed once when the field on the other side still wasn’t done, but reading the mind of a farmer (or daring to question it) is a whole other blog that I don’t even want to go into. As Yoda said: Do or Do Not. There is no Try.

Now FBA Friends, and everyone else who drives by and watches me, you know that I am not the most experienced tractor driver (although I dare any farmer to challenge me in a pee-in-your-coffee-cup-while-driving-a-straight line contest) but nor am I one to tell The Boss NO (during Spring Work) either. Give me a challenge; I’ll do my best. So I took it slow, I crossed where he said, and yep, you guessed it, the chain caught again and bent the harrow in half-again.

“Son of A B#@!”

So, I inch my way across the road, all the while thinking another stupid saying, “Why did the harrow cross the road?” And the only answer I can come up with is, “I don’t know. Maybe it shouldn’t have!”

I get it into our other field, park, breath, laugh, sigh, cuss, and then pick up the radio.

“30 to 31?”

Nothing. Static.

“30 to 31, you copy?”

Nada…zilch…I’m starting to get a little angry now. Because, Boss or not, he is also The Brains, The Mechanic, The Schedule Guy, and by goodness when I call him guilty and angry and scared and confused, he damn well better be there to be The Husband too!

“30 to 31, you got a read on ya’ Smokey?”

Stone cold silence again…no one loves me, and I sure as hell hope no one drives by.

I go for my phone. That way I can break the news to him without half of the county listening and gossiping about it at the bar later, (you know, like we all do) but as I pick up my phone to text him, I hit some update button and blamo! the phone is instantly out of commission for up to 20 minutes to do some unneeded update.

“Thank you for your patience while we update your phone so you can enjoy better service more often!” Bite Me!

So, while I wait I sit there and wait, I decide to eat a boiled egg. Iw as only going to eat the white part that is good for you, but PO’d as I was now, I pretty much swallowed the yolk whole and immediately got the hiccups. I waited another minute and then I grabbed the other egg.  Good cholesterol out; bad in.

And then I think, as I look in my lunch box, that “You are forcing me to do something I really regret!”

It’s not lunch time, nor is it close. It’s like 10:00. Not even apple time. But, what else am I supposed to do. It was kinda their fault, or someone’s fault. So, while I’m waiting I eat my sandwich, drink some coffee, and have a little water. That’s just about all I have in there, so I try again.

“30 to 31?”

Flatline…Uggh!

Well, that’s it. I turn off my tractor, and decide to drive home so I can use a phone to call The Mechanic. A landline, the real deal, like other farmers used to have to use in the good ole days, right? Wrong! They used their radio, but mine is stone silent still.

So, as I’m climbing down out of the cab, I accidentally come face to face with my lunch box and I spy two cookies. I had put in my lunch this morning for treat that I could eat guilt-free later in the day when I would be long past lunch and out on my tractor bouncing around, singing along to Merle or Willie or George, and possibly thinking about George’s fine hind end in his Wrangler Jeans…ummummm….ooops, I digressed again. But I could clearly see that that little fantasy and alone time treat (you decide which I’m referring to) would not be taking place, so I grab the cookies and start stuffing those into my maw as well. By now, I just didn’t care!

And as I get to the car, cussing and carrying on about harrows crossing the road to get to the other side, I sit down, look at the clock and realize that because of this – because of taking ten steps and saving ten minutes, “MY DIET IS RUINED!”

And now, as I sit here writing to you, the clouds are coming and the rain is on the way and I’m just thinking, what in the world am I going to eat now?