Lending a holiday helping hand G’Town Christmas Parade enjoyed by spectators Mt. Orab Auto Mall collects over 1,100 canned goods for local families “Celebration of Lights” held at fairgrounds Thirteen indicted by grand jury Lady Warriors hit the hardwood with high expectations Warriors reload after graduating four starters Six seniors hit the hardwood for Rockets Lady Rockets packed with size, talent Lady G-Men to rely heavily on young talent G-Men seek improvement after last year’s three-win season Skilled crew on the return for the Blue Jays Broncos begin quest for SBAAC American Div. crown Lady Broncos working hard toward SBAAC American Div. title after finishing as league runner-up last season Experienced crew of Lady Jays return to the hardwood Stephen C Foster Mary J Fitzgerald Tyler Hesler Herbert Polley Robert Layton Donald H Layton James T Smith Thomas M Calvert Thomas J Wolfer Cropper coaches way to 500th career victory Ohio’s Deer-Gun Season opens with more than 18,000 deer harvested Lady Broncos face talented Wilmington squad in season opener at Western Brown SHAC teams hit the hardwood for annual Boys Basketball Preview Western’s Leto and Jones excel in sophomore season of XC Lady Rockets open season with victory over Hillsboro Gary P Garrison Rev Larry T Allen Georgetown, Eastern MS honored by state Woodruff updates Chamber of Commerce Operation Christmas Child reaching out overseas G’town Christmas Parade Dec. 3 Ronald E Blessing Sharlee R West June A Goecke Rockets earn OVAL honors Ogden Court dedication set for Dec. 10 Jays host Broncos for OHSAA Foundation Game Ohio’s young hunters harvest nearly 6,000 deer during Youth Gun Season SHAC holds Girls Basketball Preview Foreclosure filed on former Meadowwood Care Facility Ten indicted by Brown County Grand Jury Nature Works Grant funds for new Senior Playground Shop with a Cop looking for donations and support BC Beekeepers Association busy rescuing honey bees Hilda F Steele Ronald L Palmer Bruce E Phillips Elizabeth J Ellison Daniel L Turner Cook inducted into OIAAA Hall of Fame Eastern honors Coach Kiser G-Men, Devils battle it out in OHSAA Foundation Game Jester is OVAL Football Player of the Year Ipad program a success in Georgetown schools Powih sentenced to six years on rape charges Air Evac team to get new headquarters building in Georgetown Four sentenced in Brown County Common Pleas Court Homer C Eldridge Dennis D Johnson SBAAC First Team soccer all-stars take home awards Ohio’s Deer-gun hunting season quickly approaching League champ Lady Broncos recognized at fall sports banquet SBAAC awards First Team football all-stars, league champion teams Irene D Thurman County GOP sweeps at ballot box Landfill project to provide electricity Three indicted by County Grand Jury BREAKING ELECTION NEWS Wanda L Nixon Ella A Moon David Rogers Joanna W Carter Ann L Yeary Tony Gacek Rigdon finishes 3rd in Pickerington Div. III Regional Meet, advances to OHSAA XC State Tournament Week 10 football roundup Linkous named SBAAC American Division Soccer Player of the Year SHAC awards boys golf all-stars, winning teams Donald L Bauer Andrew W Brown Early voting still going strong at Election Board Tree ordinance brings more questions at G’Town Council Steele named new mayor in R’ville ABCAP’s Reproductive Center receives $2,000 from Jaymie Jamison Foundation Robert E Bailey Myrtle L Stiltner Etta M Mays Kathleen A Holden Eastern XC teams head to Regional Meet A season to remember Lady Warriors finish runner-up in SHAC Div. I Lady Broncos finish season 10-8-1 Week 9 football roundup G-Men and Colwell head to Div. III Regional XC Meet
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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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