Our tractor has come and gone. We spent two blissful days digging and filling holes and transporting landscaping materials around our yard. Then Geoff noted a fly in the ointment. The swing cylinder of the backhoe was digging as well...into the rear tire. Panic ensued: did we have a lemon? Would our happy farming days slip through our hands? Could the tire be overinflated? Reading the manual we encountered the illustration of a man thrown from the explosion of an overinflated tire...more panic! Geoff tested the tire pressure and found it to be at 4 times the recommended amount. This may account for the poor fit between the cylinder and the tire, but we are leaving the resolution of this crisis to the mechanics.
Soon we will post delightful anecdotes about the merits of adopting a tractor and all the joys and conveniences it provides. In the meantime we have only our memories, and our daydreams...the hard packed soil of our pasture broken and compliant, sitting high in the saddle and looking out across the acres. The dust swirls, the sun beats down and a vision takes form: plowed fields, fertile and expectant, and an orchard of guava, avocados, blood oranges and apple trees. The pond sparkles like an azure gem. The grapevines twine their supple tendrils, like a mother's embrace, around the fence posts and stringers. The chickens are laying, the goat is content, and the cats sleep, grinning in the shade. The children flourish. The tractor is good.