Going 'round and 'round
By PAT WICK
© Another Day in the Country
My dad used to tell me stories about his childhood — working in the field, behind a team of horses going around and around, thinking the field was endless, stretching off toward the horizon — and that the work would never ever be done. "I always hated when I had to go close to those barbed wire fences," he said, "because we had a couple of skittish horses and sure enough, one time that outside horse bolted and got his leg tangled in the barbed wire." He pauses, remembering the horror of the moment. One young boy, four big draft horses with a humongous problem on his hands.
I knew how the story ended, but I still liked to hear it told. "That young horse finally kicked his foot free. I didn't know what to do, so we just kept plowing," Dad recalled, shaking his head. "When I got done that night, I just put the horses away and hoped my dad wouldn't notice."
I thought about my father this past week because I was sitting on his tractor going 'round and 'round in Tim's pasture, mowing. "You want to do something outside," Tim had said, "come mow that field behind the house before the weeds start seeding."
I jumped at the chance! Now I could feel like a real farmer, doing work in the field, and I could learn to use the mower. "What's to learn?" Tim said, "it's just on/off, up/down, 'round and 'round."
Let me tell you, there's plenty to learn about tractors and farm equipment. Folks who've grown up in the country take for granted the knowledge they have. I've had to get accustomed to more bells and whistles, levers and switches, idiosyncrasies, and idiot switches. While, I'm trying to figure out how to get something started, it seems to me that the natives just climb up on any old piece of machinery and instinctively know how it works.
Tooltime Tim had mowed the first swath around the pasture — he wanted to give me boundaries so I wouldn't end up in some other field, I suppose. I climbed up on the tractor and set out to do my task. I was finally a field hand. Wasn't this exciting?
The excitement lasted for about three trips around the field and I stood up to survey my accomplishment. "Gee whiz," I said to myself, "this is going to take forever!" I was wishing for one of those really big cut, thing-a-ma-jiggers like Rick or Tracy have — now then, I could mow!
"What do farmers do," I wondered to myself, "to keep themselves from being bored?" Think a lot, I decided — I certainly was — enjoy the scenery. I know, A.J. sings when he's working in the fields. I'd heard him as he was bailing hay earlier in the summer.
In the adjoining field, I could see someone plowing — going 'round and 'round, too. We both were watching the sky with its threat of rain — lightning flashing over toward Herington. The other farmer was more knowledgeable than I was, because he got out of the field before drops of rain started falling. I had to be convinced.
I began to be inventive, trying different speeds, cutting off an unusual shaped portion of land in order to complete something, going back and forth instead of 'round and 'round. "I don't care how you cut it," Tim had said, "You can cut figure eights if you want to, just so long as it gets mowed." I did wonder briefly if I could do lawn art on a big scale, but who would see it?
It's finished, no big deal to a real farmer — just window dressing — but it was a milestone for me.
It's another day in the country and this farmhand kept at that field until it was all done — before it rained!
