So, I made a tiller.

And on Tuesday I looked down at my planned garden and said, “Damn. I don’t want to hoe that.” So, I made a tiller.

I said, I need something to break up the dirt, destroy all the weeds, push past the rocks and the buried walnut shells, take a beating and work it all again and again until the ground is perfect. So, I made a tiller.

I need a tool that will help me out as I try to garden. Reliable enough that I know it is going to work when I need it to, but low maintenance enough that I am not going to have to fiddle with it when I want to use it. Something strong enough to bust through roots and rocks and run for hours on end in crappy conditions until the job is through. So, I made a tiller.

I said, “I need a partner that can have my back and work the clay, loam, and sand with equal ferocity. That can push through compost and spread it through the soil for all those roots to find. To be there for me in evenings and on weekends after I finish my forty hour work week and actually start my work.” So, I made a tiller.

If you don’t get the reference, check out this commercial.

And yes, yesterday I did assemble my tiller. I am not remotely mechanically inclined so I am ridiculously proud of myself. I even assembled it all with the tools that live in the back of the four wheeler, because I’m awesome at farm stuff. Or it was just that easy to assemble. Whatever. It is held together with wing nuts, but I loaded it with gearbox lube all by myself and everything! I feel so bad ass!

Or, at least I felt bad ass until I noticed that the damn cord wrap was in the wrong spot.

So, I made a tiller!