A brilliantly sunny day, and we are due to go out for lunch. One of the pleasures of life, for my husband, is to get smartened up and to enjoy eating in style. I'm happy to share in this, although if it is sunny I prefer to be outdoors.
So it came about that we nipped up to the allotment to continue some of the repairs to winter storm damage and generally poddle about in the sunshine before setting off for our meal out. We finished in good time, loaded the car and headed for the exit. Then it all went pear-shaped.
It has been quite a wet time here recently and the ground at the allotments is not well-drained. This includes the little roadway, no more than a few yards, leading from the parking place to the gate. Somehow I misjudged the speed or the line or something. The car slid, the wheels spun: I could make no progress. My husband tried. We shifted a few feet. We enlisted the help of another allotment holder. We pushed: nothing. After about half an hour of this, covered in pocks of mud thrown up by the spinning wheels, we called it a day and walked back to the village centre.
My husband went straight to the council office to take advice. Yes, they did know of someone with a tractor. Yes, he would ring us back. So we found ourselves back at the plot in our other car. Through the gate came an elderly gentleman on an absolutely pristine grey Ferguson tractor, clearly his pride and joy. He backed into position, produced a brand-new orange tow-rope and hooked it to the back of our stricken vehicle. Within seconds he had towed us clear of the morass - and all without a speck of mud hitting his vehicle or his rope. I expect he went home and hosed down the tyres. We were very grateful to him.
In about 1950 my father started farming on his own account, taking over a hill-farm "Lock, stock and barrel" from his uncle. This included a working horse, but soon this was replaced by a small grey Fergie tractor, the double of the one that came to our rescue. This must have revolutionised his working life as the Ferguson featured a hydraulic lifting system for attaching implements, such as ploughs, harrows and haymaking tools. It was a wonderful machine - and still is.
So it came about that we nipped up to the allotment to continue some of the repairs to winter storm damage and generally poddle about in the sunshine before setting off for our meal out. We finished in good time, loaded the car and headed for the exit. Then it all went pear-shaped.
It has been quite a wet time here recently and the ground at the allotments is not well-drained. This includes the little roadway, no more than a few yards, leading from the parking place to the gate. Somehow I misjudged the speed or the line or something. The car slid, the wheels spun: I could make no progress. My husband tried. We shifted a few feet. We enlisted the help of another allotment holder. We pushed: nothing. After about half an hour of this, covered in pocks of mud thrown up by the spinning wheels, we called it a day and walked back to the village centre.
My husband went straight to the council office to take advice. Yes, they did know of someone with a tractor. Yes, he would ring us back. So we found ourselves back at the plot in our other car. Through the gate came an elderly gentleman on an absolutely pristine grey Ferguson tractor, clearly his pride and joy. He backed into position, produced a brand-new orange tow-rope and hooked it to the back of our stricken vehicle. Within seconds he had towed us clear of the morass - and all without a speck of mud hitting his vehicle or his rope. I expect he went home and hosed down the tyres. We were very grateful to him.
In about 1950 my father started farming on his own account, taking over a hill-farm "Lock, stock and barrel" from his uncle. This included a working horse, but soon this was replaced by a small grey Fergie tractor, the double of the one that came to our rescue. This must have revolutionised his working life as the Ferguson featured a hydraulic lifting system for attaching implements, such as ploughs, harrows and haymaking tools. It was a wonderful machine - and still is.
.JPG)
2 comments:
Oh, dear, so sorry your husband missed his expected treat. Or did he? At least you accomplished something on a lovely day.
I love practical things and those people who are always willing to help!
Post a Comment