And the little tractor that could (and does)
I love our little tractor. Full disclosure, though, I was not in the market for a tractor when we bought it.
The Byrds and the Bible said it best … Turn, turn, turn.
It’s that time of the year again for me. You know, that time where I reflect on my accomplishments over the summer and take stock of the rest of my honey-do list. The turn, turn, turning of the seasons. A time to split, a time to stack, a time to till, a time to mow, a time for work, a time to plow, a time for gathering wood … I hope it’s not too late! To get everything done at our little slice under heaven, that is.
This summer, I really didn’t get many of the things crossed off my list. Usually, I’m chained to the greenhouse and garden and the responsibilities of keeping a 12- x 24-foot greenhouse, plus a 25- x 40-foot garden that is watered, weeded and safe from our occasional frosts and hungry deer. This year we didn’t grow anything (except for weeds).
That’s okay, we’re calling it “letting the garden have a rest.” Yeah, we’ll go with that! I’ll give it a good mow and rototill before the snow comes, and we’ll be back at it again next year, green thumbs crossed. I did manage to keep our houseplants alive though.
I also got my shop sort of organized and reclaimed my workbench. Not that I really did any work out there, mind you.
But now (as of writing, it’s the Labour Day weekend) and the honey-do list looms large. Some say that the Labour Day weekend is when you are supposed to have your yard ready for winter. For me, that has never happened, haha! The Labour Day weekend is my wake-up call to get started.
Top of the list is always getting enough wood into the shed to keep us warm for winter. Again, probably not going to happen. I’ve got a bunch of cleaning to do in the shed before I can start, and about a cord and a half sitting in a pile on the yard to split, carry and stack.
When Al built the shed, he did an amazing job. It’s designed so that every row of properly stacked 16-inch wood, equals a full cord. We can fit six rows in there. It’s always my intention, at this time of year, to get at least four cord split and stacked. I do my best, and usually if I get at least two, that’s a good ol’ college try.
There’s always the inevitable climb onto the roof to clean the chimney, as well. It’s a ritual that I have to work myself up for every year.
Our little tractor is instrumental in all of this …
I love our little tractor. Full disclosure, though, I was not in the market for a tractor when we bought it.
I grew up on an acreage in rural Alberta and I learned to drive our big old Massey-Harris tractor before I learned to drive a car. After Pam retired, we decided it was time to get a used skid steer to keep the driveway plowed during the winters. I went on Kijiji and found one for about $20,000. I also saw an ad from MacPherson Rentals for a brand-new compact Bobcat tractor with a bucket, for way less.
We stopped in at MacPherson’s and I got out to go have a look. It was covered in snow and ice. Our sales rep, Micah, came out to see if I needed any help. I think he knew that he’d already made a sale! I asked him if this was the tractor that I’d seen on Kijiji and he confirmed that it was, and the price.
I asked a few tire-kicker questions about the warranty and such, but he pretty much knew that he had a “live one.” I told him we had about 10 acres out in Mendenhall and that I was very interested, but I’d need a bit of cannon fodder to help me to convince my lovely wife.
“Shoot,” he said.
“Options?”
“What do you want?”
“Comes with the tractor and the bucket, right?”
“Yup”
“Can we get forks?”
“Yup”
“A mower?”
“Do you want a mid-mount or rear mount?”
“Rototiller?”
“Yup.”
Damn, son, I think that you just made a sale! I thought to myself, but in true married fashion I deferred to my lovely wife Pam.
“I’m going to have to run this past my wife,” I said. “Of course, would you like a brochure to take with you?” I accepted, and we were on our way, with Micah knowing we’d be back soon.
We ended up with all of the above attachments plus a ballast box for the back and a leading edge for the bucket. Micah also threw in a couple of hats and hoodies. I’ve been telling everyone that we spent about 25 grand on a couple of hoodies and hats and they threw in a free tractor with all the attachments.
Since then, that little tractor’s been worth its weight in gold. I use it all summer to keep the grass mowed and the garden rototilled, plus hauling things around the yard on pallets. I use it all winter to keep our 300-plus-foot driveway and six parking spaces cleared. I park it next to the house and use it as a tie-off point for my fall arrest when I’m cleaning the chimney.
Around the same time as we bought the tractor, we noticed a 25-ton log splitter on sale at Canadian Tire. Pam told me I was getting too old to be splitting the big stuff and that we should buy it also. Feigning disappointment at her suggestion that I was getting old, I reluctantly agreed to the purchase … all the while, keeping my glee to myself!
So now, as Labour Day weekend comes and goes, I’ll be starting up the tractor, pulling out the splitter, using the forks to remove the mower and store it away for the winter (after one last mow), and getting to work on filling up that woodshed and ordering some more wood.
I’ve learned over the years that using the bucket, to get the wood from the pile and splitter and to the woodshed, is much better on my back than using the wheelbarrow. Also, that about eight to 10 buckets full usually equals a cord, once I stack it.
Inevitably, I’ll be ordering more wood than I have time to split and stack before the snow flies. That’s where the forks will come in handy again—tossing the woodpile to remove the snow and be out there splitting and stacking as needed.
By the time this goes to print, I expect there’ll be “termination dust” on them thar hills, and I hope to have all of my yard chores finished. The historic reality, though, is that I’ll get the most important ones done, and the rest of the honey-do list outside will just get buried in snow and have to wait for another time.
I mean, really, it’s not going anywhere, right? Turn, turn, turn …
