FARMER JOHN RIDES AGAIN

I installed a new car battery tonight into a John Deere tractor.

Okay, I bought a new battery for my neighbor's tractor, so I could prepare the field for our 6th (7th?) Annual Youth Mud Football game. And then my neighbor's son, Tom, ended up doing most of the installation for me.

Then I attached this huge metal frame with curved prongs to the tractor for the plowing.

Well, Tom backed the tractor up... and connected it... and his mom ended up driving it around so I could inflate the... okay, so Tom could inflate the tires.

But then I drove it over to our field, and plowed until it was too dark to see.

And THAT part I did ALL BY MYSELF.

Tomorrow, the mud creation BEGINS!

(with the help of a well, six water hoses, a sprinkler, and a LOT of patience on my part as I move the water for the next seven days to create the muddiest, messiest field ever)

SERENDIPITY

Did you know that the word "serendipity" was coined from phrase used in a fairy tale by an Horace Walpole, a British writer and politician (dangerous combination) in the 1700s?

There, don't you feel smarter, knowing that?

Yesterday was an example of serendipitousness.

My church's youth group has an annual Mud Football every summer out at my place. I tear up about a quarter acre of land, soak it for nine to ten days solid, and then allow 40-60 teenagers to spend a couple of hours having more physical contact between the sexes than is allowed in any other church activity we sponsor.

But, obviously, to rip up that much land, I need to rely on machinery rather than brute strength (with a shovel and my 54 year old back, I would need to begin as soon as the game is over to have it ready for neat year).

So I borrow my neighbor's tractor and furrowing attachment.

Here is where the serendipitousness begins.

Cherie is the perfect neighbor. And I mean PERFECT.

She knows just about everything about EVERY animal - she knows when I should call the vet, or just borrow something from her medicinal stash - she is someone I can call at 2 a.m. when I can't get hold of the border patrol or the county sheriff - her kids have taken care of MY animals for years when I am in California or Hawaii (really, people, where else do I go?).

And she has a tractor. A big and REAL John Deere tractor. Which I borrow every year. And sing the "Green Acres" theme song the entire time I am using it to plow the mud football field.

I do feel guilty every year when I call Cherie, after not talking to her over the past year any more than 12 minutes, and ask to borrow the tractor and the attachment. - but only for about 14 seconds (I have an extremely high guilt threshold).

But this year - it just happened that she was helping out a friend with a personal emergency, was going to be probably overnight, and wanted to make certain her kids had several contact numbers JIC (just in case).

And, therefore, I was one of those numbers she needed, just at that particular moment when I was calling to ask HER to borrow the tractor.

Guilt, be GONE!