Watching sports is one of the things we, as a family, enjoy in our travel through our time on this good earth. Before I married my farmer husband, however, I knew next to nothing about sports. Farming I knew. Sports? Not so much.

The blue and red lights flashing in my rear view mirror weren’t noticed until I heard a short warning that sounded curiously like a siren. Glancing up, I realized indeed it was a siren. It was for me. Stopping immediately, I could not imagine what on earth prompted the officer to pull me over. Did I forget to turn my lights on? It was getting dusky. Did I speed through town?

Mouth agape, looking up, I exclaimed to my husband, “Listen to that!” One day early spring, we were working at buttoning up our sap season then and spending one of the last afternoons in the woods — the sun winking between sparse clouds, promising warmer days ahead. Breezeless, the woods was tranquil yet the birds in the trees were going crazy — singing up a storm like they were holding a concert just for us.

Farmers and country neighbors pitch in, noticing when there’s something amiss — sometimes without even asking, stop and offer help. It’s heartwarming and appreciated beyond words. Mowing lawn, I glanced down at my cell and noticed a call from my husband, who was chisel plowing in a field about a mile from the farm. My heart sunk.

Nothing on our farm beats our skidder. This little piece of equipment is versatile enough to handle a multitude of various chores, such as picking stones, plowing snow, clearing brush, hauling newborn calves (back in the day) as well as cleaning and feeding cows and heifers. Also, as far as I’m concerned, our side-by-side UTV complete with a winch, is right up there at the top of the list of versatile equipment.