Now Billy decided we would make a good impression if we got to Rob's farm (site of the Plowing) before anybody else and since he had the truck and trailer to haul the tractor and plow I thought it wise not to argue.  I got up that morning at 3:45 a.m. and my wife said in her sleep that I was stupid.

I got to Billy's house by 4:30 and he was up!  If you know Billy, this shouldn't shock you because more than likely he hadn't been to bed yet.  After I knocked loudly on the door and his wife, Micky, yelled through the window what I'll take as a... well, a greeting, we were ready to load up and hit the road.  Billy related to me that the local law informed him they would be proud to write us a ticket if we used the loading dock in the city park at this hour.  To make a long story short-er, we got loaded.  Well, we got the stuff loaded and perhaps Billy was still loaded but we were finally on the road!

There is nothing quite like blowing down the road at 5:30 a.m. listening to the mellow music styling of the 20 ALL TIME GREATEST BLUE GRASS FAVORITES turned up loud enough to make your nose bleed and since Billy tells me all farmers do this to prepare for the field, I had no choice but believe him.

And yes, we were the first to get there!  As I smiled, swaggering by the road, waiting for the SECOND place plowers to arrive, I noticed that Billy wasn't grinning.  "You did call last night and make sure we are doing this?" He asked, with a look like something out of a farm slushier movie.  I pulled a Clifton and said I don't remember and as he pulled the knife from his back pocket, Rob drove in!

My dad painted my newly acquired two bottom and commented that it kinda looked like a circus wagon but I thought it was keen!  Really, seeing it behind my un-restored '41 Model -A- John Deere gave the impression of a diamond tiara on the head of Janet Reno.

Right off the bat, Billy demonstrated the proper way to get stuck in the field.  Of course according to him, it was my fault though I was a good hundred yards off and after his reminding me the distance I might have to walk home, I did start to see it possibly being my fault.

Now is the part I call "My service to the County Road Commission".  Imagine the pride I felt as I began my gallant pass along the previously laid furrow.  I finally was becoming one with the soil.  No longer would I suffer the disgrace of being just a city boy!  I was now a Farmer!  This thought filled my brain as the front of my tractor found the road ditch at the end of the field.  knowing full well that accidents involving this type of equipment result in a 75 percent fatality rate, I forgot the trip rope and battled my directionally challenged tractor and grinded into the gravel road!

Marvelous invention, the hand clutch.  Use it as much as you can.  It was completely realized what I had done as I slowly looked over my shoulder.  My first hope was that no one would notice, but that would be like no body noticing you had burnt down the barn.  My next idea was to get Billy back on the tractor and blame it on him but it was too late for that.  I finally decided that a culvert pipe was needed and if anything, the County would thank me.  Feeling good about myself again, I traded off with Billy and threw-up.

After a few rounds, Billy decided I could do little more damage so again I stepped up on my plow and ascended to the coveted tractor seat!  With chest expanded I would show this field who was boss!  I pushed the throttle forward, looked to see if I was in third gear and with veins bulging, temples pounding and heart racing, I engaged the almighty clutch!  I rocketed down the furrow and roared with laughter at the ease in which the earth yielded beneath my mold boards!  Then I looked around and saw my plow setting about thirty yards back at the start of the furrow and over the pop of my mighty steed I could hear the laughter of many entertained friends that saw it all.  Cursed trip lever!

The rest of the day went as it should when friends get together for such an event.  Lots of fun, smiles and good natured ribbing.  Now-a-days, I plow when ever I can and as you know when you find something you love to do, it is always great but never quite as it was the first time.

 Thanks,
 ebrown221@netscape.net