I am beginning to feel cursed, ya’ll. Like some outside evil
force has focused its unholy powers on us and the planting project, determined
to prevent us from finishing seeding the hillside. The last two weeks have been
a series of misadventures…
It is like my life is an overly dramatized radio show: “This
week, Captain America and his gal try to plant a field. Will the duo overcome
the Nazi plot to burn the tractor down? Tune in to find out!”
Spoiler alert, we didn’t foil the plot. The Kubota caught
fire, and CA had the most mellow delivery ever. Below is a dramatized
transcript of this phone call.
“Uh, Lauren?”
“Yeah, hon?”
“Are you almost back?” (I had gone to get more fuel for the
tractor.)
“No, why?”
“Oh, well, when you get back can you come straight out to
the field? There was a minor tractor fire.” (Please note that he was completely
calm.)
“A what?” (Imagine a note of hysteria building.)
“A tractor fire.”
“Are you f***ing serious?” (Full on hysterical uptick at the
end there.)
“Yep.”
“What? How? Are you?! Ah! I’ll be right there!”
I love that man’s delivery to bits. Only he could be calm in
the face of a tractor fire. Unlike me. I am the woman who called my mother when
the house caught fire when I was 14. What do you do when the house is aflame,
you call your mommy. Not the fire department. That would make too much sense.
She was thrilled by the way. I believe her response was something along the
lines of “Why the hell did you call me and not 911?” What can I say, I don’t do
so well with panic.
It turned out to be a minor tractor fire, as far as tractor
fires go. It was still drivable, but it was losing coolant like crazy through
one of the charred hoses. Luckily the fire didn’t make it to a fuel line, and miraculously
the tractor was in the field when this happened and not oh, say, in the hay
barn surrounded by a ton of flammable material.
 |
| See, only a little fire! AH! |
Life lesson/ Public Service announcement: When you inherit a
tractor – please make sure to examine it carefully and see if there are any
dust screens that need to be cleaned regularly. Dried grass can accumulate and
spontaneously combust when you treat a Kubota like the good old Ford, that has
no dust screens or actually, much protective shielding at all. You can lose a
hand with ol’ Blue, but by golly, she isn’t a fire hazard.
She has her own issues, beautiful old gal.
 |
| Blue is such a good tractor. |
Like this past weekend when I was trying to finish planting
with her (since you know, the Kubota is now in the shop…) and hydraulic fluid
started shooting out of the back like I had driven over a green Old
Faithful.
Did I mention that I don’t do well with panic?
I did manage to remember to turn the tractor off rather than
just stare in abject horror. So, there is that. I then did the ever popular
unplug the hydraulic hose and stare at it, plug it back in and look at the
leak. Unplug the hose, re-plugin the hose, unplug the hose, re-plugin the hose,
unplug the hose, re-plugin the hose, unplug the hose, re-plugin the hose, and
repeat until I finally called CA.
“Hey, so, if the tractor had started to geyser hydraulic fluid
and I wanted to troubleshoot it without calling my dad, and unplugging it and
plugging it back in again didn’t work, what could I do?” I am admittedly horrible at mechanical
things. I take full responsibility for that. I’m trying to be better, but it is
not my strong suit yet.
CA, who was shopping for birthday gifts and home remodeling components
at the time, was unable to diagnose the problem via the phone and my crappy
pictures.
 |
| I don't know why he couldn't diagnose it. I mean, there is even a drip forming and everything! |
And yes, given my lack of mechanical aptitude it is weird
that I was the one in the field with the tractor and he was out shopping; but
we have a weird relationship. I grant you that. Maybe in retrospect it might
have been better to conform to gender roles there.
But then how would I learn? I can tell you that after having
to call my dad to help me, I now know how to diagnose a blown O-ring (dang
thing had dry rotted) and will never
miss that one again.
Especially not after having to buy all the replacement
hydraulic fluid. That stuff ain’t cheap. But O-rings are! And we now have a
stockpile of them. Take that Murphey and your stupid law, or Hilter and your
evil plot, whatever it is that is making this planting thing WAY too difficult.
Ah well, as mom said, “That’s farming.”
And as I say, “This is why I drink.”
Cheers!
