In case you forgot, Mr. Right is farmer.
He has always farmed. His Dad is a farmer. His grandfather was a farmer. You get the idea.
Mr. Right works 80-90 hours per week. Some times more. Some times less, depending on the weather. I feel bad for him. But he loves it and doesn’t seem to mind. I still wish there was some way that I could help him out though.
But I’m a Jackie O at heart. I know next to nothing about plants, machinery or chemicals. I can barely drive an automatic car much less a tractor, sprayer or combine {apparently they have more than one gear}. So I feel like I’m not much help most of the time.
All of that changed this past weekend when I got called up to the Big Leagues!
Mr. Right was desperate after a little labor situation and called me to come help “put in” tobacco. He had one job that I was {sort of} able to do.
Truck tobacco. (This is the person that drives the tobacco from the field to the barns.)
I do have a valid drivers license. So how hard could it be?
Umm. No. Apparently said tobacco is transported via a trailer pulled behind the truck…still legal with my license. So no problem, right?
Umm. No.
Have you ever tried to back up a trailer?
I may be the only person who struggles here…but backing a trailer follows no logical rules.
I couldn’t do it to save my life. I was worse than terrible at it. If I turned the steering wheel one way, the trailer went the wrong way. If I turned it in the opposite direction, it still went the wrong way.
Maybe there is something wrong with me. Maybe it was the moon. Maybe it was the 99% humidity and 1000 degree temperature outside causing me to hallucinate.
Mr. Right knew I was a hopeless case after about 2 seconds. He ended up making me drive around the entire field in a circle so wouldn’t have to go in reverse.
And don’t even get me started on the maze of ditches that you had to cross to get to the right field. That is a post for another day!
So here’s to my stint in the major league.
I gave it my best try. I sweated my butt off (I literally lost 4 pounds in two days – BONUS!). I survived.
And I was subsequently sent back down to the minor league again once a suitable replacement was found two days later.
Poor Mr. Right. I do enjoy the air conditioning in the minor league though. And my gel nail polish survived without a chip!
Go you! You get an A+ for trying. I worked on the farm for the first 18 years of my life and never could (still couldn't if I tried) back a trailer. It's an art….or a man thing, not sure which. Look at it this way, the pink polish looked mighty spiffy out there:)
Thanks! I survived. But it was certainly much more physically demanding than what I was used to! And I'll probably never be able to back a trailer either.