Breaking In and Breaking Down: Reflections on a Week of Work

I have now completed one week (seven days) of work.  I worked Monday through Saturday last week and then today.  My reflections on these seven days of work (and that one blessed day of rest on Sunday) have led me to find two themes that seem to be awfully prominent in the past few days.

The first theme is that of breaking in.  No, I don't mean that I've turned to a life of crime and have begun burglarizing people's homes.  I'm talking about getting myself broke in to the routine and hard work that is now my everyday normal life.  Just as I break in new boots to fit my feet just right or a new cap to sit just so on my head, I need to break in my body to this life of manual labour.  I've spent the past eight months doing a lot of studying and little else.  Now, as with every summer, it is once again time to get my body accustomed to what it will be doing for the next four months.  The long months of study have reduced my hands to baby smoothness, which is fine if I'm trying to be ladylike, but not so great when there's work to do.  I'll have to rebuild the callouses that have disappeared so that I don't have to wear gloves all the time.  My muscles will also have to adjust and have been doing so as I've been picking rocks and roots in the fields.  I'd forgotten some of those muscles existed!  And of course I'll need to get used to bouncing around in the tractor all day (so much fun, but so hard on the bones by the end of a long day).  The main part of me that needs to be broken in is my mind.  I need to get used to entertaining myself on the tractor without the advantage of having books or other people around.  Sometimes I can listen to a static-filled radio program, but other times it's just me and my mind.  Finally, I'll need to adjust to the pressures and stresses that come along with farm life.  Instead of stressing over due dates for assignments or upcoming quizzes that I know about far in advance, I suddenly have to deal with unexpected difficulties,which brings me to my second theme.

The second theme I've noticed is that things break down.  Three days of the seven that I've worked I have used (or tried to use) the disc to work the fields.  Three times that same disc has broken down.  My dad and I spent a good portion of one day early last week fixing the disc and trying to get the seed drill in working order.  Today we had to borrow the neighbour's truck to get home for supper because the tractor decided to quit and blocked our way out with the grain truck and other tractor (don't worry; we got it going again after supper).  It's not really as if this is unusual either.  Breakdowns, as aggravating as they may be, are just a part of life.  How does that one reality tv show put it?  "Expect the unexpected"?  Yeah, that sounds like farm life.

Unfortunately, when you live in the non-farm world for a while, it's easy to forget about those unexpected difficulties.  Then when you come back, it gets a bit overwhelming.  By the end of last week, I was certainly overwhelmed.  I even went into fullblown panic mode over one situation on Saturday.  I can't remember the last time I panicked.  We were burning some brush piles (yes, we had a permit) and Dad left me to supervise them while he went to town with Mom.  No big deal.  Just after he left though, a spark from the pile I was watching ignited an old truck that we have parked in the back of beyond.  I tried first to put the fire out, but I only succeeded in burning a few holes in my coat and getting a lungful of smoke.  That's when I figured it was time to call Dad.  No one answered the house phone.  Dad's cell went straight to voicemail.  Mom's cell number didn't work.  I wasn't even sure if I had the right one or not.  Well, maybe they hadn't left for town yet and even if they had, Mom's cell number was in the kitchen.  I ran to the trike and rode up to the house at a barely controlled speed, only to find the house abandoned and locked.  That's when I let the panic out in one hard smack against the front door.  I'm surprised I didn't hurt my hand.  Unable to find the spare key, I ended up having the break into the house, at which point I was finally able to get a hold of my parents.  They told me to just let the truck burn, stay back, and don't let the fire spread any more.  Well, expect the unexpected.  By the time I got back to the fire, the truck was just slowly smoldering.  It never did go up in flames.  All that panic was for nothing.

Moral of the story: I'd better get myself broke in to farm life again before I break down.  I think I'll do okay, though.