Murphy's Law

If there is one law that every farmer knows it's Murphy's Law, "that if it can go wrong it will". 

Hubby loves his half day off on Wednesdays.  He hustles home with dozens of things on his mind that he wants to get done.  On this particular Wednesday he wanted to disc his garden and as a favor to a neighbor, disc his too.  Naturally, he arrived home to discover the disc sitting in the barn in pieces.  Literally.  Our son had dismantled it to make some repairs and was waiting on parts.  First order of business was to jump in the truck and go pick up the parts.  Then reassemble the disc.

Shortly after he was hooked up to our son's little tractor and discing the garden in the sunshine.  Back and forth he drove, dragging the round blades (discs) through the ground until the big clods were reduced to little clods.  All the time he was planning where he wanted to plant the corn, beans, tomatoes, lettuce, broccoli, cauliflower, onions, eggplant, squash, pumpkins, cantaloupes, cucumbers, carrots, potatoes, ..... if everything he dreamed up from the back of a tractor was actually planted we could feed the world. 

With that job accomplished he decided to go up the road to the neighbors and work on his garden some.  He didn't have to go far, just over a mile, but he did have to get on the big road in front of our farm.  I hate it when they have to take farm equipment on the highway because of the heavy traffic.  Tractor's don't go very fast and traffic can quickly back up.  Then drivers get antsy and do stupid things because they are in such a hurry.

As soon as he got on the road he opened it up as fast as he could and took off.  He was almost to the turn off when he noticed the tractor sputtering.  Just as he managed to pull off on the side of the road it sputtered to a stop.  No amount of trying would get it started again.  In frustration he realized that he hadn't brought his phone with him (I nag him constantly to carry it with him.) so he couldn't call anyone to help him.  In resignation he climbed down and trudged all the way back to the house.  Catching our son at the barn they drove back to the tractor and managed to get it started.  Since it was running well, he decided to go on to the neighbors.

Everything went well until he started home.  As soon as he opened it up on the road it started sputtering and once again he found himself sitting on the side of the road with a dead tractor.  This time he had brought his phone with him, so he immediately called our son.  No answer.  Tried again.  No answer.  Tried again.  Cussed.  Looked at the house in the distance and thought about the long walk, again.  Decided he just wasn't going to do it.  With that he hopped off the tractor and stuck his thumb out in the age old hitchhikers signal for a ride. 

Frankly, in today's age, I'm surprised he didn't get run over.  Car after car passed to his complete annoyance.  In the drivers defense, here was this man standing on the side of the road in dirty blue jeans and shirt, with a cap pulled down over his eyes, looking like he had a mad on against the world.  After all, their mothers had spent hours drilling in them the dangers of picking up strangers on the road.  Finally, a young man, who obviously didn't listen to his mother, pulled over and gave him a lift to the house.  On arrival he discovered son sitting on the tailgate of his truck visiting with a buddy, his cell phone forgotten in the cab of the truck.

Once again they return to the tractor and manage to get it started.  This time he drove slowly home with son following in the truck with his flashers going.  He was almost home free when he started up the hill to the house and barn.  The tractor started sputtering and stalling again.  He jammed on the brakes and it sputtered to a halt.  Son meanwhile was checking his missed messages and failed to see the catastrophe in front of him.  Bam! He ran into the back of the disc.

Fortunately for the peace in the family there was minimal damage to truck or disc.  Nothing, as hubby put it, that a sledge hammer and a few good whacks won't fix. 

By the time I returned home from a meeting, son had wisely left for his own home and hubby was sitting on the porch getting consolation from his patient collie.