Tractors and Yard Work

          Spring has sprung along with all the weeds that I euphemistically refer to as grass. It is time to mow. I know, it sounds like work, but it is not all bad.

            There was a time when I hated yard work. It was a huge bone of contention between my father and me. It was even bigger than cars and all the trouble I caused with them. As soon as he said, “The yard needs mowing,” the fight was on. I never won, but I made sure that the process was not pleasant for him. I was an awful child. I still don’t like mowing. It brings back all those very loud memories, but there is a difference now that makes me look forward to mowing.

            “I like tractors purdy good,” is a line from a movie that the oldest Princess quotes with a heavy drawl, and that is the essence of my feelings.  "I like tractors purdy good too."

            Over the next three days, I’ll be mowing the property for the first time this year, and although dirty work, it makes me happy. I do not miss mowing over the winter, but I do miss riding the tractor. The tractor is a nice little diesel powered one with a three-point lift and a pull behind, three-blade finish mower.  It is my man toy, one of many, but by far, my favorite.

            During the not mowing months, I find reasons to employ it in other activities. I drive it around the acreage to check for fallen trees, to make sure the fences are up, holding the nonexistent livestock, and to poison fire-ant beds. These are all legitimate activities that can be done in the truck, but with not as much fun as with the tractor. The Admiral tolerates this, pretending, as I do, that I am actually working, but she can't hide her amusement when I fire up my little darlin' and drive it down to check the mail. Mowing is its reason for living, and now, it is time, and I am a happy man.

            I cut a forty-eight inch swath with every pass, run over fire-ant beds with impunity, and mulch leaves as I go. The tractor maneuvers so well that I can dodge in and out of the myriad trees as if I were in a sports car. Shoot, I’ve even dodged spider webs on the thing although the roll bar tends to catch them on occasions and deposit them on my back, or worse, down my neck.

            I like the roll bar. This isn’t my first tractor, but the first so equipped. I have not needed it yet, but I’ve driven tractors before where I did. I have rolled one, driven one off a sea wall, and even gotten the frontend of one suspended off the ground driving through a swing set. I have the pictures to prove it.

            I love riding the tractor for another reason, the alone time. When I’m driving with the engine at 2200 rpm, and the mower blades roaring, I have my ear plugs in, my hat pulled low, and my brain on minimum function. I am in my own little world. There are no distractions. Even though I carry my cell phone, I can’t hear it ring. I get into a zone and my mind is free to wander, and it goes places hard to imagine when not on the tractor. It is the ultimate daydream machine. I am semi-conscious, sensory deprived, and I can go anywhere and do anything.

            I am caught in one of life’s unexpected ironies. I do not like mowing the grass, but that is when I can drive my tractor the most. I mean, you can't spend an hour going down to check the mail. I guess I can buy some more implements for it. It will be a hard sell though. I will have to convince the Admiral that we have to have a drag bar, or a front-end loader, or a back-hoe, and that life will be a lot better with them. I will have to sell her on the idea that the yard needs leveling, dirt needs moving, and maybe I can get her with the suggestion of digging a hole for a swimming pool. I have to have the rationale. I do not think, “I like tractors purdy good,” will cut it. There is profound truth in those words, but truth will not buy man-toys.