One night after coming in from milking, my husband said, “Let’s go for some ice cream!” I looked at him and wanted to feel his forehead; he must be delirious with fever. When he gets in from the barn after a full day’s work, unless we have a commitment, or an invitation that we had planned on, he is not spontaneously deciding to make an ice cream run.
Earlier that day, we had attended our 40th high school reunion at the Leopolis ball diamond shelter. It’s been said that when you get to a certain age, you begin having lunches instead of dinners for your class reunions. Well. We’ve arrived. It was just lovely. Everyone agreed it was an amazing potluck fellowship and we enjoyed a beautiful picture-perfect day with enough food to tide us over right through supper. We just needed a treat before ending this really nice day.
So that night, I was surprised when my husband announced he was hungry for some ice cream. Then he asked, “Could you drive?” (He wanted to look around.) Aha! I knew there was an ulterior motive. Anyone that knows farmers know they love to check out what’s going on in the fields around their county. How the corn crop is growing, what does the second hay crop look like, who’s harvested their peas and oats, and who’s waiting a bit are all questions answered by taking a slow, relaxed drive along the back roads into town.
We asked our daughter and her friend if they’d like to come along too and they agreed, (sweet of them), so we all piled into our car and started off. We sauntered down the road and at one point we were moseying along at such a snail’s pace that I took a bit of a detour so that a car behind us could drive on past.
Soon we came across a skidsteer sort of angled half in the ditch off to one side, with a huge square bale in its bucket. We drove slower and noticed a farmer and his wife hauling these bales off the field. It looked like they were having issues. We pulled over because we knew these people.
“Hey!” My husband hollered out the window, “Haul that one right over to our place!” He laughed and the farmer’s wife came closer and gave us the scoop. She was distraught and sort of on the frantic side. As she had been attempting to get one big square bale off the field, her tractor had snubbed out going up a little grade to get onto the road from the field. She had pushed the clutch in and the tractor rolled back.
That’s about all the information I needed to made me laugh my head off. Oh, I wasn’t laughing at her, but with her! I could so totally relate to her dilemma. We had, just last year, attempted to get those big square bales off one of our fields. As my husband was maneuvering one home, it fell off the tractor and ended up lying in pieces on the side of the road. We had to take our skidsteer and truck over to the pile and piece by huge square piece, scoop it up and dump it into the truck. Cars were whizzing past like we weren’t even there, which upset me terribly!
I had been in almost the identical predicament that this frantic farm wife was at that moment. In her case, the sun was just about to go to bed for the night, and she was cast in a halo of setting sun, which added to the aura, making her distraught explanation of what was happening that much more realistic. Her face was flushed and she looked like she’d just about had enough. Been there, done that!
We listened sympathetically, appreciating what they were going through, and moved on so they could complete their work with what little daylight they had left. I hope the fact that we stopped and acknowledged their predicament helped them just a little bit!
We went on to enjoy our ice cream and on the way home noticed the farm couple had finished their task and were, hopefully, in the house, finally done with their work for the day.
Later on as I settled in for the night, I reflected on the very nice day, complete with an ice cream treat and showing a little empathy for a frantic, fellow farm wife.
(“Finally, all of you, life in harmony with one another; be sympathetic, love as brothers, be compassionate and humble.” 1 Peter 3:8)
