Ramblings: Tractor Time

Last week the boys and I volunteered to take lunch out to the "farmers" on my parents' ranch. My dad and the guys were baling huge, endless fields of hay. When they're baling it means they're in tractors of some kind all day long--luckily I think they're all air-conditioned. With radios. And GPS. Freaking spoiled farmers these days. haha. It's definitely not something I want to be spending my days doing...but the boys were MORE than happy to help out.

They climbed right up into the giant tractor to do a ride-along with Grandpa. "It was BUMPY!" they reported. There's not much room in that little cab so I assumed their heads were ping-ponging off of all sorts of important gears and levers.

They made a few passes down the rows of cut hay, gathering up the hay and letting the baler roll it into a huge 6 foot ball-o-hay. When it reaches the right size, it's wrapped in this plastic netting stuff, and then the back of the baler lifts up and sorta poops out the bale and it rolls to a stop in the row. Then the tractor with the big metal prongs (impaling devices) can come stab it and move it to wherever you want it. I was pretty sure the boys would try to find a way to skewer themselves like little shishkabobs on those giant metal things before we left that field.


Avery was impressed by the giant tractor tires. He started to reach out to touch it and then got a bit nervous and chickened out, which is understandable since the thing is almost twice as tall as he is.

They thought the whole thing was great big, farmer fun. I can always tell when they're really enjoying something because they'll start pretending that they're in the middle of an episode of their favorite cartoon, The Backyardigans. Or they'll start singing and quoting from favorite episodes they've seen a billion times thanks to our DVR. I was hearing all sorts of songs about being corn farmers and riding tractors.

One of these things is not like the others....although it left looking just as dirty and covered in dust.

We had to drive through a few cow pastures and next to the horsies to get to the hay fields. Even the boys were impressed by the amount and stink of the cow poop.

"YOU'RE SQUISHING IT. EEEWW. STINKY!" as we drove along the roads. "LOOK AT THOSE LITTLE ONES! THEY POOP, TOO!" they screamed about the calves. Yeah, tell me about it--and guess who they probably wipe their poopy bums allover? That's right--their mommas.

3 year old boys and calves=not all that different.

This little "spots" guy ran along with us on our drive out of the ranch. The boys informed me he wanted to come with us, and although I'm sure my home owner's association would be really excited about that, I told them he needed to stay with his other horsey friends. Plus, if he came with us then they'd have to clean up his poop in the backyard all day long. "That's OK!" they decided, WAY too happily. I should've known that would be a plus, not a minus. Needless to say, Spots stayed where he can poop freely all day long.

The farmers were getting tired and hungry by the time they finished their work...but nothing that a hamburger, a cheesy hamburger (Aidan's fave), and 2 chocolate milkshakes couldn't cure on the ride home. If the weather finally cools off, we may have to go play farmer more often.