|Me and my swather when it first arrived|
My husband has always liked Kenny Chesney's song, "She Thinks my Tractor's Sexy." I've always liked the song. It fits my husband and I. I love riding along on any farm related vehicle my husband is driving and visiting with him. There's something about the slow movement and the lazy feel you get when you're plodding along through a field or down a lane on an open air vehicle that has a rhythmic "put-put-put". Or in the case of the "Poppin' John" an old John Deere we have. "Pop. Pop. Pop."
This is the first year I've had my very own, new-to-me swather for cutting the alfalfa at our Eastern Oregon ranch. When my husband broached the idea of me helping cut the hay, I said, "Sure. As long as I get a cab and air conditioning." He drives a model without a cab. The sun can be blistering on the high desert and the wind can be nasty, too. That's why I requested a cab.
And last fall he came home with a used swather with a cab. It needed some TLC. It had some mice issues. I hate mice! Which made it smell and there were mechanical things that needed fix. But hubby spent the whole winter working on the swather, cleaning it up and making it smell good.
|Tink watching out the window.|
Then I was on my own, with Tink, of course, as the co-pilot.
Operating a swather is not like raking or baling. It requires more attention to stay the right distance from the previous row, the steering requires muscles I didn't know I had, and I was in the darn thing for 6 hours straight! I had to stop a couple of times to get out and stretch my legs and inhale fresh air. The stale air conditioning air wasn't very cold and was stuffy, making me sleepy a couple of times. It took the two of us with the two swathers 6 hours to get the field all cut. But it was done.
We drove the swathers back to the barn and climbed out. I was tired, sweaty, and hungry. As I turned to head to the cabin to make dinner, my husband called out, "You're sexy."
Yeah, swathing hay for 6 hours gets me compliments like that! When we've worked hard, side by side, and I'm feeling like I've been run over... that's when he thinks I'm sexy.
How about you? When does your significant other give you compliments? When you are all dolled up or when you've got dirt smudged on your face and holey britches?