Linda M Howland Robert E McKinney Mildred J Hodges Farrel L Amiott Patricia Brown Rick L Dye Mary E Nagel Betty Ratliff Broncos claim SBAAC wrestling title Broncos pull ahead for win over G-Men in SBAAC Tourney Ripley boys wrap up regular season with win at Lynchburg Eastern girls are sectional champs Anderson pleads not guilty to battery charge Some county offices to change locations Fayetteville prepares for Traveling Vietnam Memorial Wall HealthSource hosts Chamber of Commerce meeting Five sentenced in Brown County Common Pleas Court June Howser Marguerite A Fender Timothy D Harris Jay R Purdy Robin S Godwin Marc A Wachter Chester W Eyre Warriors blast past the G-Men, 61-40 Rockets performing well heading into post-season tournament play Lady Warriors bring home the Gold with perfect 13-0 finish in SHAC Western Brown Junior High wrestling team wraps up successful season Rockets fall victim to ‘Pack’ attack Broncos suffer heartbreaking loss to Mentor Lake Catholic in state quarterfinals Adult Education Center coming to county ‘Senior Playground’ moving forward at Georgetown park Brown County 4-H kicks off another year Eastern Middle School celebrates “Kindness Week” Billie L Shoemaker Erma J Teeters Ralph L Tracy Darrell Inskeep Jeffrey C Clark Carole Metzger Tommy R Ring Brent A Arn Daniel L Sellers Lady Warriors finish regular season as SHAC Division I champions Regular season comes to a close for Lady Rockets Howell commits to Walsh Rockets peaking at right time Emotions run high as Eastern seniors present disabled students with signed basketballs on Senior Night Broncos top Bethel-Tate at In-School Dual before heading to state tourney Lady G-Men shoot down the Rockets State Senator Uecker tours Georgetown schools Proposed school budget numbers released by Kasich Todd Rumpke remembered, honored with Lifetime Achievement Award Ten year old from Hamersville appears in commercials Three sentenced in common pleas Emery D Sutherland Robert C Downs Sr Chester A Lanter Robert L Orr Jessica L Farris Broncos are Region 15 champs Jays soar to win over Eastern Lady Warriors roll to 18-1 Pitch count regulation approved for high school baseball Lady G-Men top Amelia for sixth win Regular season winding down for Lady Broncos Awards presented at Chamber Breakfast ‘Number one heroin dealer’ gets 15 years Seven indicted by county grand jury Aberdeen searches for new fiscal officer Aberdeen searches for new fiscal officer Harold Wardlow Kimberly B Petri Betty L Gifford Ollie J Slone Ralph J Snider James R Garman Betty L Greiner RULH welcomes four new members to Sports Hall of Fame Broncos gallop to win over Hillsboro Rockets soar past Whiteoak Broncos advance to Div. II, Region 15 Semifinals Jays edge out Peebles James S Kesler Veterans honored with service medals Man arrested after home invasion Truck driver faces manslaughter charges after November crash BC Chamber prepares for 2017 Business Breakfast, Monday, Jan. 30 in Georgetown BC Animal Shelter asks people to consider adopting a dog Victor J Bohl Vivian Coleen Charles E Bates Sr Eal Lainhart Michael D Karos Jr John H Kirk Janet R Meyer Patsy A Clark Dorothy J Schroeder Broncos trample the G-Men, 73-40 Rockets down the Devils, 59-55

The old grey Ford

I reached up and grabbed a hold of the steering wheel with my left hand as I stepped up and swung my right leg across the gear shift and leaned back into her seat. I felt a slight give as my full weight settled into the familiar curve.

I pulled the throttle down half way with my right hand, and with my left I reached around the cowling and turned the ignition key to the on position. I did not need to look. I felt the familiar click and new that I would have spark.

I was almost ready to fire her up, but first I pushed in the clutch with my left foot as I stood on the brake pedals with my right. I pulled the gear shifter towards me and made certain, with few flicks of my wrist, that she was in neutral, and only then did I reach down with my right hand to push solidly on the starter button.

The engine cranked over once, and then with a contented chortle, took to life. This old grey tractor never ceases to amaze me. Her paint might be chipped and faded, and a bit of rust shows through here and there. Her front grill is lopsided, the result of some ancient encounter, and her comfortable seat has a good sized tear up the middle, but her engine purrs like a kitten and her gears shift as though they were passing through butter. I could not love this old machine any more.

We sat there and idled for a while. I looked up at the blue sky overhead. I could see a few buzzards circling high over the creek valley closer to the river, and then, foot firmly on the clutch, I pushed midway down on the gear shift and slid her into second gear. I engaged the bush hog blade, set the deck at a good height, and headed out into the garden jungle.

Wisps of dill and lemon basil mingled beautifully with the hearty odors of tractor grease. Rotted pumpkin and huge zucchini, that had escaped my jungle forages, popped like small firecrackers under the tractor’s tires, and slowly, row by row, the jungle was tamed.

Pass by pass, what had been my humiliation of a once perfect garden gone wild, was laid to rest. And even when I was finished, I continued to make more passes, letting the churning bush hog blade make absolutely certain that no aberrant stalks still stood.

Finally, I pulled off to the side and stopped under the shade of the big oak tree. I put the tractor in neutral and idled her down as I disengaged the bush hog blades. We sat there, and I thought. I imagined the tractor looking with her bug eyes, out across the garden field, as I leaned forward and put my elbows on her steering wheel, my chin resting on the backs of my hands.

Surely this had been an exceptionally wet year. Cultivating had been impossible, and even weeding by hand had been a nightmare. It was simply too wet to walk out into the garden, and the weed stalks had grown as thick as my thumb while the root crops had rotted away.

But as I sat in the shade of the tree, I grew excited about my next gardening season. We will till six foot aisles, separated by grass strips that Greg can mow with the zero turn. I will ride the setter and plant two rows down each six foot isle, one aisle for tomatoes, another for dill and fennel, others for peppers, squash, potatoes, and carrots and herbs. The six foot aisles of crops will still be wide enough that if the weather and ground allow, we can run the little Cub with the cultivators up and down the rows, but if the weather and ground do not allow, I can still stand in the grassy strips and reach out to hoe and even harvest my crops.

So next year I will have the perfect garden, but no matter what the season brings, I know that I will be able to count on the old grey Ford. I know that she will always fire right up, and be ready to till, to plant, and even to bush hog.

Oh my gosh! I just realized that this old tractor could not really be all that old. She was only built in 1956, and I date back to 1954. Imagine that. Perhaps that is why we share such a special affinity.

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