We need to rake some hay today, John informed me mater-of-factly,
shortly after I had moved in with him on the Pfleegor Family Farm.
“Oh ok”, I nodded. “Are we going to have any help?” “Yeah,”
John replied rather business like now, “There’ll be about 4 or 5 of us”.
“How much hay are we going to rake”, I asked tentatively.
John eyed me now with that “look” him and his father --whom we all affectionately call “Pappy” --used to get on their faces back in the day when they were
dealing with “City Girl Meets Farm”.
“Oh, about 15 acres”, John said, while at the same time looking at me,
apparently to see if I comprehended what he was saying. I nodded again, while at the same time thinking “Holy crap! That’s going to take us all day”. My mind wandered to the field with me and my rake in hand, raking hay until my hands were covered in blisters. “Holy crap,” I couldn’t seem to stop silently repeating to myself.
That’s going to take longer than a day, I surmised, as I calculated the amount of time in a day divided by 15 acres, divided by 4-5 people with rakes that were going to help us. “That’s going to take around a week, maybe more. MAYBE even a month!”
As I started in-my-mind wondering how bad my back was going to feel later on in the evening, and how many bandages I would need for my bloody, blistered hands, I noticed John had pulled up on a little red and white tractor, next to me; one of his old Internationals.
“Hop on” he said.
Incredulous now, I stood there wondering how the heck I would ever drive a tractor, and why I needed to in the first place. “But, I was just going to get a rake…” I stammered, pointing with my index finger towards the garage. More compellingly now, John tells me to “Hop on the tractor!”
“Hop on the tractor, why?!", I asked John as I was simultaneously trying not to appear "confused." "John??? Do you know what you're doing, John?" I asked silently in my head. “Because that’s the rake!”, He tells me in what sounded like a very exasperated, but amazingly very patient voice. Me, now more confused than ever and blinking at the tractor, I climbed on and John explained how to drive it.
This was my first time raking hay, or more importantly, ever driving a tractor--I had after all been born in Oregon and raised in California. Surprisingly it didn’t take this “City Girl” long to muster that old tractor on down the road, and onto that dreaded hay field. I must say, in my own defense that I did a great job raking that 15 acre field of hay and keeping my rows pretty straight! And the best part about it? It only took a few hours, and my hands didn’t even hurt afterwards!
shortly after I had moved in with him on the Pfleegor Family Farm.
“Oh ok”, I nodded. “Are we going to have any help?” “Yeah,”
John replied rather business like now, “There’ll be about 4 or 5 of us”.
“How much hay are we going to rake”, I asked tentatively.
John eyed me now with that “look” him and his father --whom we all affectionately call “Pappy” --used to get on their faces back in the day when they were
dealing with “City Girl Meets Farm”.
“Oh, about 15 acres”, John said, while at the same time looking at me,
apparently to see if I comprehended what he was saying. I nodded again, while at the same time thinking “Holy crap! That’s going to take us all day”. My mind wandered to the field with me and my rake in hand, raking hay until my hands were covered in blisters. “Holy crap,” I couldn’t seem to stop silently repeating to myself.
That’s going to take longer than a day, I surmised, as I calculated the amount of time in a day divided by 15 acres, divided by 4-5 people with rakes that were going to help us. “That’s going to take around a week, maybe more. MAYBE even a month!”
As I started in-my-mind wondering how bad my back was going to feel later on in the evening, and how many bandages I would need for my bloody, blistered hands, I noticed John had pulled up on a little red and white tractor, next to me; one of his old Internationals.
“Hop on” he said.
Incredulous now, I stood there wondering how the heck I would ever drive a tractor, and why I needed to in the first place. “But, I was just going to get a rake…” I stammered, pointing with my index finger towards the garage. More compellingly now, John tells me to “Hop on the tractor!”
“Hop on the tractor, why?!", I asked John as I was simultaneously trying not to appear "confused." "John??? Do you know what you're doing, John?" I asked silently in my head. “Because that’s the rake!”, He tells me in what sounded like a very exasperated, but amazingly very patient voice. Me, now more confused than ever and blinking at the tractor, I climbed on and John explained how to drive it.
This was my first time raking hay, or more importantly, ever driving a tractor--I had after all been born in Oregon and raised in California. Surprisingly it didn’t take this “City Girl” long to muster that old tractor on down the road, and onto that dreaded hay field. I must say, in my own defense that I did a great job raking that 15 acre field of hay and keeping my rows pretty straight! And the best part about it? It only took a few hours, and my hands didn’t even hurt afterwards!
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