Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Middle-Aged Women Don't Bounce: Part 9

When I got home from work that night everything at the farm was just the same.  Somehow I thought it would all look different because I felt like I had been gone for a long, long time.  I sat down at our kitchen table and poured out the tale of woe to Mom, who listened while she was putting the finishing touches on a cake she was frosting.  She had made me a lovely meal of roast beef and all the fixings and though I wasn't very hungry, I appreciated her loving consideration.

At some point, she had to sit down during my long-drawn recitation of the day's events.  She felt badly for the way the day had gone, too, and I could tell she'd been worried about me.    It's a tough thing to watch a child stumble out into the world, and she was ready to welcome me back home with open arms.  Not that we ever hugged or said 'those' three words or anything; my folks were not touchy-feely  people, but I knew they loved me all the same. 

We ate supper alone since Dad wasn't home when I got back from work.   The fact he wasn't there was good, because he would have lost patience with me and my saga long before I had it all out.  Dad disliked tears and flap-doodle. With Dad, you had to pare a story down to its bare essentials, he didn't want to hear 'And then this happened and then she said this and I said that', he wanted to hear the condensed version.  So it was a relief to have Mom to myself to commiserate with so I could talk it out.

I had gotten home from work at 5:00, so we had to eat (and talk) quickly.  We had evening chores to do.  I got out of my work clothes and into my farm clothes and headed out to the machine shed to fetch the 574.  It was time for me to chop hay for the cows.  While I was doing that, Mom was rinsing milkers and setting up for the night's milking.

What a relief it was to be back on the tractor; for just a few minutes I forgot all about the terrors of the day and focused on the alfalfa waving in the breeze while the swallows swooped back and forth in front of my tractor catching the bugs the chopper was scaring up. 

Milking cows that night was a much-needed distraction; just being around the Holsteins was a comfort.  The difference between the job I was doing in the barn and the one in town was staggering.  I much preferred the one at home.
In the picture above, I'm driving our Farmall H and pulling a manure spreader. Ah, it was good to be home again.

Carl came over to see me later on that night on his little trail bike.  We only grew up a mile apart, so it was quick trip.  He was sorry to hear things had gone so badly, too.  He showed up just as we were finishing chores around 8PM and he and I went for a little ride around the farm.  Everyone was doing their utmost to take my mind off my troubles and lift my spirits. 
Carl, 18 years old, and his Honda 70 minibike. 

But despite everyone's best efforts, the fact remained I still had to go back the next day.


Alison said...

Carl was a hottie! Probably still is. I feel as relieved reading this as you most certainly did to be home again. Thank God for your mum!

I remember when I was a teenager, whenever I would think about what it would be like to be all grown up, it would fill me with dread. I never looked forward to it, like some people. The big unknown is scary. I like the familiar too.

Tufa Girl said...

Wow! What a week!

I sat down this afternoon to absorb part 1-9 in one session. I am worn out! I can't imagine what part 10+ will bring.

I agree with the other comments, Karen. You need to put these stories into a book.

El Gaucho said...

I'm so glad there's another part to the story posted today, I was very much looking forward to the remainder of this tale.

HolleyGarden said...

Men always want the condensed version, and we just have to get it all out of our systems! Love the pics!!! I don't think many people would have rather been on a tractor at that age. Or maybe that's just my perception because at my house, us "girls" weren't allowed to do all that - we were expected to do inside chores only.

Anonymous said...

Thank god for Mother Natures stress reliever....working outside. Starting the engine of the tractor must have been pure heaven compared to the office.
How are you feeling?

Dragonfly Treasure said...

Wow! I just got caught up on this story, parts 1-9. What changes you had in such a short time. You are one brave girl. Anxious to read the next segment.

Lona said...

Whoa, I had some catching up to do in this saga. LOL! I want to slap the mean right off of some of those faces for you. LOL! People can be so cruel sometimes. I was so shy in school I would have been far worse off than you. When we went from elementary to high school I was a wreck.Now I look at the high school building and see how small it is, but it looked like a skyscraper back then. LOL!
I bet you was so relieved to be back home after that first day of work.
All those things that happen to us in our lives that embarrassed us so I guess are all steps to help us grow, Hurts like the dickens at the time though.
Looking forward to the ongoing saga of Karen Big City Girl.