The Farmall Does it All

Kohen checking out the Farmall.

Our first bit of hay is finally put up for this year. Haying is always a chore around here, and this year proved to be no exception. It is more work than it is probably worth, but the sheep love the hay that we get, and it gives my dad an excuse to spend time tinkering with his tractors.

There are two tractors that reside here by the Rice River. They both belong to my dad. The first is a John Deere B, the second a Farmall 100. The Farmall has been used for cutting the hay and then raking. Last year we used the B to bale. The only time these tractors see any use is when we bale our small field. Dad cut the field last week, but then rainy days made it a struggle to get it baled. Yesterday was our window. While Nate raked the hay, dad brought the B down to the field and worked on the baler. The baler is an old Allis Chalmers roto-baler. I don't know if anyone uses this equipment in this day and age except us, but we do. Last year was a struggle because the hay belts that roll the hay into a cylinder and then eject it were on their last legs. They are old, worn, and some are looser than others. They have a nasty habit of getting off track and seizing everything up. We also had to modify our twine system this year, but a five gallon bucket did the trick. (I will say there is nothing pretty about our setup, but we get by.)

Back to yesterday, Nate raked the hay, and we went to eat lunch before starting to bale. Back to the field, and the problems began. The B would not start. and not start, and not start. Four hours later, there still was no sign of life from the B. Frustration for the men folk with further annoyance from my mom and I as we gave some of our ideas on how to remedy the situation(lets just ask the farmer who is baling the neighbors field, lets borrow the neighbors tractor, lets buy the neighbors tractor...) My dad and Nate both chose to ignore us and dad said that he would take time off this morning to come out and hopefully bale before we got more rain.

This morning rolled around and the B still refused to start. Dad began a dissection, and discovered a worn piece on the magneto. The B was out of commission. So the Farmall had to step up to the job, and it did it well. A comment was even made that perhaps dad may "go red" now, though to hear Kohen tell it if we would just repaint either of the tractors they would run better.

Even though the remark was made, "To think I could be in the woods just painting trees right now," it was worth dad's time and effort, and bloody knuckles. Two little boys loved to traipse across the field and watch the tractors work, or sit. They happily absorbed every second of Papa and Daddy working in the field. Isaiah has now said 'papa' and 'cracor' (tractor) approximately 200 times in the last 48 hours. It is love: of the outdoors, the smell of fresh cut clover, noisy machines, and getting to be farm boys. This is why we do it. Thanks Dad.