¢ o=o=o=o=o=¢¢ Once in a while, one of our members¢ does some writing that, while not¢ specificlly related to Atari 8-bit¢ computing, nevertheless warrants¢ reading. The following article by¢ THOMAS J. ANDREWS _WAS_, I've been¢ assured, written on a 130XE using¢ TextPro. It appeared in the June¢ issues of American Agriculturist¢ (including New York Farmer,) New¢ England Farmer, Pennsylvana Farmer¢ and Maryland Farmer. My farming¢ background is nil, but I could¢ certainly relate to it. The timing¢ of the original publications (just in¢ time for Father's Day) was most¢ appropriate. Thanks, Tom, for¢ sharing a great piece of writing and¢ a warm and delicious slice of life¢ with us -- Ed.¢¢ BALING HAY to MANHOOD¢ by Thomas J. Andrews¢¢ "I'm gonna need your help today," Dad¢ said that sunny July morning. "We've¢ got a lot of hay to get in, and your¢ Grandfather can't be here to help.¢ You're going to drive the tractor for¢ me."¢¢ I must have been 11 at the time, and¢ this was something I hadn't heard¢ before. Dad started with a basic¢ demonstration, driving while I¢ watched.¢¢ "Keep the windrow in the center of¢ the pickup, if you can, like this,¢ and move your head forward and back¢ to watch where you're going and where¢ the hay is going. Glance back at the¢ wagon, too, and watch for my signals.¢ If I want you to go faster, I'll move¢ my hand like this. Listen closely,¢ because if I want you to stop in a¢ hurry I'll yell, 'Whoa!' Got all¢ that? All right -- your turn."¢¢ Dad rode along while I drove a few¢ feet. Then, with a word of¢ encouragement, he left to load the¢ wagon. I was on my own on the¢ tractor, saddled with the heaviest¢ responsibility I'd ever carried.¢¢ A TEMPERED TEMPER.¢¢ Dad wasn't one to have much tolerance¢ with stupid mistakes, but that day he¢ was a monument of patience. He must¢ have realized how scared I was of¢ messing up.¢¢ When I drifted off the windrow¢ because I watched the baler too much,¢ he simply pointed it out and told me¢ how to adjust -- every time it¢ happened. When the knotter fouled up¢ and I missed his "Whoa!" he just told¢ me to pay better attention. When I¢ fed in a big wad of hay too fast and¢ broke the shear bolt, he calmed my¢ fears, taking the blame onto himself¢ for "not raking it right."¢¢ I know now how tremendous an effort¢ he made at keeping all the little¢ frustrations of the day to himself,¢ realizing that it wouldn't take much¢ to shake my feeble confidence.¢¢ We managed to get all that hay baled.¢ When it was all put away for the¢ night, Dad turned to me and said,¢ "Thanks, Kid. I never could've done¢ it withoutcha."¢¢ That was a milestone I'll never¢ forget. It felt good. It felt very¢ good.¢¢ A SLOW CHANGE¢¢ Things changed after that, slowly at¢ first, but faster as time went on. ¢ No longer did I "help" around the¢ farm, I truly did help. Dad and¢ Gramp started teaching me how to¢ drive the tractor and operate the¢ machinery behind it.¢¢ I learned how to plow straight, even¢ furrows, how to tell when hay is¢ ready to bale, how to stack hay in¢ the mow so it cures properly, how to¢ use my imagination to keep a machine¢ going when the parts dealer is closed¢ for the weekend, how to stick with a¢ task until it is completed, and how¢ to do what has to be done whether I¢ want to or not.¢¢ I learned how to be a farmer, and a¢ man.¢¢ I'm nearly 50 now. My younger¢ brother and I own and operate the¢ farm where we grew up. Dad is¢ retired, but still offers bits of¢ advice from time to time, and while¢ we don't always take it, it's always¢ welcomed.¢¢ The field where Dad and I worked was¢ rotated back into hay a couple of¢ years ago. It's one of our best hay¢ fields.¢¢ When I go out to that field to bale¢ hay my thoughts can't help but go¢ back to that hot July day so many¢ years ago. And perhaps I might be¢ forgiven if, just once, my eyes mist¢ over and I drift off the windrow,¢ just a little.¢¢ Thanks Dad. We never could've done¢ it withoutcha.¢¢¢ Tom Andrews¢¢ o=o=o=o=o=¢¢
