Lipstick for goats

Lipstick for goats

Tuesday, 14 June 2016

My sexy little old man.

We had owned our patch for quite a number of years before I discovered the wonder of the ride on mower. 

When I was a young teenager I must have lost my mind temporarily. I asked my father if I could mow our backyard lawn, it looked like fun......

Our backyard was huuuge, it was summer, stinking hot and it was ridiculously hard work to have to do again only a week later, such madness.....never again! 

That was until I saw husband on an old ride on mower he had bought for the farm. 

Oooooh that looks like fun.... 

I mowed the yard around the house, both sides of the long driveway, along the road verge, another 300 metre driveway and then started on the paddock around the house. All with a 42 inch cut.  I was obsessed.   Hubby kept flagging me down so he could refuel the mower, then he told me I had to come in from playing as it was getting dark; such a fun crusher.  

Then I discovered the tractor with slasher attachment.

Why has my husband selfishly kept this secret to himself and not enlightened me much earlier about the miracle of our little old tractor and slasher?   The ride on mower paled into insignificance when compared to the tractor that does it bigger and better!

I finally convinced my husband to teach me to drive the tractor.  Easy peasy, but I wasn't allowed to take it out of first gear! The man watched for awhile to make sure I was not going to kill myself. I guess he has a point; tractors are the number one cause of injury and death on farms, and I already had a track record of throwing myself into a deep ditch while on the quad. (See my blog post Death by quad does not become me! )

Once he was happy I wasn't going to turn the thing over on the flat area I was slashing he then disappeared to do his jobs.  Woohoo second gear here I come!  Oh I'm such a speed demon! 

Soon I will be singing Kenny Chesney's song that my son plays and it cracks me up, 'She thinks my tractor’s sexy' (but he instead of course.)  Actually that would be a laugh if I started to sing country songs as I am not in the least partial to country music and my son tortures me with the wailing, woeful, nasal genre. Anyway, it would take a long stretch of the imagination for anyone to think our little ancient tractor 'David' is sexy. I'm told if David was the red version he would be a collector’s item.

Now my sexy little ol’ man is so old he does not conform to any type of OH and S. My whole welfare depends upon me being totally aware to not do anything stupid on him. 

While I am very happy to have David, I really, really covert a tractor with a climate controlled enclosed cabin, complete with GPS, a radio and extra attachments, like fork lift tines, post hole digger, aerator, grader, plough, and that is just to name a few....I have a long wish list... a woman can dream! 

For my birthday I didn’t get high heels or handbags, my husband bought me radio ear muffs with an ipod/iphone socket for use with the tractor and ride on mower. 

Who would have known such a gift would make me so blissfully happy.  Off I go on the tractor, plugged into my music, singing at the top of my voice, while I attack the woody weed that has taken over our property. 

My singing worries my husband. It seems when I hit a high note it sounds to him like I am screaming, as if I may have had an accident on the tractor, causing him to come running! Ah well, I never said I was a good singer, just a joyful slasher.  
I have to say slashing, especially slashing that rotten pasture invading Kunzea, is as satisfying as waxing legs!!!!!  

I have mastered the tractor and slasher the chainsaw may be next.