If you are like me, you start getting that longing for springtime around early January each year. Now I have to admit, this winter hasn’t been that bad. We had lower than normal snow amounts in Central Iowa especially compared to 2010 and the temperatures were, for the most part, bearable. I do realize that Minnesota and Missouri got blasted much more this year than we did and that’s o.k. because Minnesota should be used to it and Missouri, well that’s where my ex lives and that just makes me laugh a little. Actually, this year I bought a really nice, pretty expensive snow blower and used it exactly twice.

Even with the less than horrible winter, I’ve been wanting to open up the windows and allow fresh air into the house, do yard work, and to get more active shedding that winter weight I’ve put on perched on my recliner. I absolutely love doing yard work! Now I may complain about it to my wife so I can get a sympathy hug but I really do enjoy it. Picking up and burning the sticks and leaves that fell since the first snow fall hit and my fall yard work ended. I enjoy raking the yard, seeding and fertilizing the grass, cleaning the pool and filling it for summer use, giving the deck and privacy fence a fresh coat of red paint, and adding fresh mulch around the house and in the dog kennel. I even like helping the wife with spring house cleaning, giving the walls a fresh coat of paint and throwing out useless stuff on junk day. I even enjoy cranking up the tunes and giving all of our family vehicles a good detailing and a wax job. Since our youngest son is the last one left in the house and he has a passion for track, myself, my wife, and my dad are pretty religious in going all over the area, freezing our backsides off, and sitting for the most part of a four hour period to watch him run three races that total less than ten minutes. Guess what? I think spring is here! I’ve already picked up some sticks but since this coming weekend is supposed to get up to the mid 60’s watch out, I’m ready to go. I’m just warning my staff now though, that come Monday, I will be whining about being sore, but they’re used to it, just ask them.

Being a farm kid I just know the farmers are busy getting ready to break some dirt as well, and if the weather stays dry would guess they will be in the fields within a couple weeks. I remember once, when I was a kid, of the first time I ever helped dad with tillage using the crust buster. Now I had driven a tractor since I was probably 7 or 8 and had hauled in grain, and disked my share of corn stalks but this was the first time I had pulled this piece of tillage equipment which folded out to around 40’ and was much longer than I was used to. I was probably 12 or 13 years old at the time and I remember dad telling me, “Now when you back up remember to always raise up the rig or you’ll risk damaging the blades.” Well I was doing pretty well for about half of the 80 acres I was working on, but then it happened. If memory serves, I was jamming to a 70’s hit on the radio and started to get a little cocky thinking I had this down when it happened. I backed up and forgot to raise the crust buster and by the time I realized it I was pulling a "crust busted up". Try to imagine dropping a fork down the garbage disposal for about 5 minutes then pulling it out to look at, well this was worse. So what do I do? Dad’s going to kill me! How about I just leave it here in the field and run away? I’d miss mom’s cooking. No, you know what I screwed up, I’m going to take it to the machine shed, and start tearing that thing apart and put it back together. I can weld. I just got done with freshman shop. I can do this! What I didn’t know is that dad was planting across the dredge ditch and saw me pulling what looked more like a hay rake than tillage equipment. So there I am in the shed, wrenches in tow and the welder rolled over next to me. I looked up and there was my father. I then said to myself, “Well this is it, smell that fresh spring air, because the next thing I will smell is the inside of a casket.” Oh yeah, he was mad, that pulsating vein on top of his bald head was telling me I was in for a bad day. Since dad tends to talk with a bit of a lisp and sounds similar to Sylvester the Cat when he gets mad, I totally expected him to eat Tweetie Bird or worse, me! To my amazement when he saw what I was attempting to do, he actually said very little and just got busy helping me. Together we got it pulled apart, straightened it out, put on fresh blades, and got humpty-dumpty put back together again. I am so glad that day wasn’t my last spring day! Until next time.