The era of Bob Dylan and warm hands is over.
We have woken to the real world.
Or perhaps it’s not exactly the real world, but simply the world that we are used to – the pleasant dream of having a really snazzy tractor (that the farm couldn’t afford) is over.
This has been our succession of tractors:
The Landini This tractor had the obvious perk of having a name that sounds like Lamborghini. It was also a very nice color of blue. On the flip side, it had some sort of complex sensor on it that would never allow the tractor to start when necessary. It had a special dislike of working on cold, snowy mornings.
I’m not exactly sure why we have this picture – it’s probably commemorating the first time that I managed to remember which pedal was the brake and which was the clutch.
The Cab My dad bought this Massey Ferguson . I deny having any part in choosing it. In fact, I hotly argued to not buy it.
However, it did have some definite benefits. Like a CD player and Bluetooth (that’s where the Bob Dylan came in) and a heater.
It also started. Indiscriminately.
But the reason that I held for disliking it was that the farm couldn’t afford it, and it wasn’t an asset in any way (except as a tax write-off, which isn’t a very convincing asset).
So we sold it in favor of our present tractor. . .
Big Red Another Massey! This is really the only picture we have of it. I think this tractor has gotten more use than the other two. I like it because it starts and isn’t too fancy.
But like I said, it’s a rude awakening from our dreamy existence in The Cab. Our hands are cold, and we don’t have our trusty Dylan. So instead, we listen to the squishy, squoshy mish-mash that is inevitable when using a tractor in winter:
It’s awful. It makes me shiver just to see and hear it. And then when it rains, I think of all the soil just washing off into the James watershed. It’s enough to drive a farmer crazy.
We try our best to do tractor work or other mud-producing pursuits during dry times or when everything is frozen. And we try to keep our tracks as consolidated as possible.
But we still have to just grit our teeth and do it when it’s a slushy day and the cows need hay.
You can’t say no to those deep brown eyes, right?
I can’t wait until our pastures are good enough to graze year-round and keep the tractor parked all winter.
Or maybe not have a tractor at all?
Horses? Mules?