So on the farm front…where winter slows everything and everyone down but stuff still happens. Like cleaning up old equipment, putting it all up for sale mainly to make room for new stuff. And on that note…
Trailer for sale, (or rent, Rooms to lent, 50 cents..sorry a Roger Miller moment just slammed me!) and since I’m the family/farm photographer, I’m in charge of sending this pic out to interested parties. No, this was not in my job description.
Watch out big city newspaper photographers. I’m after your job.
Recently, I created this jewel of a photo for a body shop guy…seems Big Boss or somebody has decided the Case needs painted. I did not know the tractors got face lifts. Almost weird when I think about it hard enough.
I remember my Grandad’s orange tractor that sat under a shed at his farm. We’re pretty sure it was an Allis Chalmers…looked like this:
I loved playing like I was driving it. Of course, I had to brush away the West Texas dust, watch out for stinging scorpions, be careful of rattlesnakes and stay the heck away from the spiders. The best part about that old tractor was the bird’s nests. Seems sparrows love tractors for their homes. If you were really lucky, there would either be eggs or baby birds to watch on various locations throughout the tractor!
I don’t remember ever riding with my Grandad on that tractor although I did ride behind it on the “plow”. My aunt tells me that she learned to drive on that tractor like many other farm kids did. I remember Grandad hooked the plow up to dig up potatoes one year and all of us cousins rode on top of the plow to help weigh it down thus digging deeper! Wonder how many government regulations we’d be breaking if we tried that today?!
Once all of the taters were dug up, then we all grabbed a toe sack aka burlap sack, and ran out to pick up the taters. There was always a contest to see who could pick up the most. I never won due to skinny legs and arms that weren’t much good for anything but rocking baby cousins! Hauling full toe sacks weren’t high on my list of priorities anyway as I didn’t mind filling the sacks…it was dragging them to the pickup that stopped me cold. I should’ve been lifting weights for arm strength! Besides it gave my cousins something else to tease me about…I was a scrawny, crummy girl who couldn’t tote toe sacks…hmmm, sounds like good lyrics for a hillbilly song?! I was also The Only Girl Cousin. But…I was the oldest, so that gave me bossing rights, thank goodness. Maybe that’s where The Queen label started….
But it was great fun and yeah, we ate a lot of dirt in the process. It would take at least 2 tubs full of hot bath water to get the grime our of my hair and ears. The dirt didn’t show much on my cousins because they were all tanned and had dark hair. I was as white as white could get without being an albino. Every speck of dirt sparkled on me. Except for the freckles. (If I worked at it hard enough, I could get the dirt to blend in with the freckles!) Since all of my cousins were boys, dirt was acceptable to their moms and my dirt had to be scrubbed away. That’s what I got for being a girl. Bummer. My cotton blonde hair didn’t like dirt either. The brown scalp was a dead giveaway for a nasty head of hair.
BTW, I bruised easily so I was forever decorated with various sizes and colors of bruises on my already lovely chicken legs. Actually, I looked like someone had taken a 2×4 to me most of the time. Come dance recital time, my mom would lock me up in the house…no outside playing for me until recital was OVER young lady! Dance didn’t last long with me. I retired at the ripe old age of 6. Enough was enough. Besides, dance recitals scared the bejeepers out of me being up on that huge, dark, empty stage. Lord deliver me!!
I’m not sure but I think I was talking about tractors? Or was it dirt? Anyone need a tractor? Or a trailer? We have lots of dirt too if you need that…. 😀