|
Kansas | Naw, not crazy.... 20 years ago I'd argued with you and said the cold froze your noodle but after being out on my own... seeing what has taken place and how I can handle it with what I was taught by not having it graciously dolled out to me or easy. I know where your coming from.
I still remember wearing two pairs of jeans to keep our legs warm during the Blizzard of 87 because Pop didn't waste money on coveralls.
I still remember walking a mile and a half in snow and drifts to get to cattle to throw old hay out of a barn to feed them and chopping ice. No damn chainsaw ever used. If it got to thick, axed it out and then pitchforked it to the side.
4x4 pickup on chains and 2wd tractors to get the chores done sliding your ass off and praying to god the Dubuqe puke (2010 jd) would 1: Start and 2: have enough power to pull the feedwagon through the slop out the gate. (Noone was smart enough to make a distributer moisture proof and a positive ground system makes you want to shoot someone).
chipping ice off of a feedwagon tire then manually changing it and patching a tube in the cold... using a space heater to warm up a small garage that acted as a shop to make sure the patch held.
Grease gun in the house to stay warm so greasing the machinery would go easier.
Oh bloody hell.... some of this still goes on today.
Scooping out the chickenhouse and the nitrogen smell about knock you on your ass.
Missing the pool and friends parties to run a 1066 which at the time was the absolute coolest tractor in the world because it was my first I drove alone and what dad had me work ground in.
A 75 yard feedrack that for years hay was pushed up to each nite for months to feed calves by hand with a pitchfork before the first used feedwagon ever found its way to the place.
I didn't even experience a riding lawnmower till I had my own place and even then... I lived here two years before I had the first orscheln's special on sale.
I could carry on with stories all night that at the time had me so chapped for the most part I could spit nails.
Looking back now... Well.... This summer, I shared a meal at Mom and Dads house with them. I sat between them and I apologized to my Dad for being an Asshole when I was a kid.
He laughed and smiled at me. Now imagine that. | |
|
Question for those who raised boys.
