I Can't Resist....

....although you probably wish I had.

Apparently our federal government decided it needs a break. Sitting on the tractor yesterday and realized how ridiculous the whole thing is. Everyone agrees a budget needs to be made, the problem is people can’t agree what to include and what to cut.

 It’s like when we were kids and Mom told us we could watch a movie. Do you know how hard it is to get five or six kids to agree on what movie to watch? We’d end up with factions and alliances, trying to sway the others over to your side. It could take an hour to chose a movie and sometimes we took so long Mom would nix the whole thing. (There were other ways of ensuring something you didn’t like didn’t get watched too. One sibling disliked My Fair Lady, so they would intentionally swear in front of Mom and then blame the movie. It was very clever, but really annoying).

As adults we still don’t always agree, but the days of storming out of the room and getting really mad have faded as we’ve become adults. Which brings us full circle back to today.

Truthfully, this strike doesn’t really bother me. It’s still harvest time and the crop still needs to be gathered. My family and friends are still around and the grocery store is still open so I can get food. The thing that does bug are the poor average blokes getting “time off” because their employers are acting like squabbling kids.

I could end there, but I have two more thoughts, and the second one will probably get me in trouble. I apologize in advance for any frustration my observations may cause you.

First off; Forgive me if I’m wrong, but isn’t the idea of budgeting to a) insure you don’t go into debt; or b) that you get out of it in a timely manner? So why does our government budget always have a growing debt attached to it? I mean, am I missing something here? I’m pretty sure business don’t like the debt category and usually try to avoid it, or if it’s necessary hope the rewards out way the risks.

I have seen friends live frugally on small amounts of money to keep themselves out of debt or to pay off debts in a timely manner. It’s not impossible to do. (Although we are talking about government and traditionally they have been rather lavish with expenditures and often in debt).

Secondly, I think the government should stop trying to play god. It’s not the government’s job to take care of people;  that is the churches job. I believe that’s anyone who calls themselves a Christian/identifies with Christ or is generally religious; I believe it’s their responsibility.

I’ll admit it, I agree with the idea, you don't work, you don't eat. (Shocker to those who know me, Nicole work?!?) I may not like it, but I am physically fit, of mostly sound mind, and there is no reason why I cannot provide for my own basic needs. I realize there are some people who truly cannot do this.

For example, my youngest sister is physically and mentally handicapped; if she learns to walk or talk it’ll be a big deal. She will always need someone to take care of her, and is fortunate to have my parents. I get the idea that some people cannot fully support themselves and that responsibility falls on those of us who can work. (My sister can help put her blocks away.  Sometimes…)

 I also understand there are times when people are down on their luck. (Believe me I get that). And we should help people get back on their feet. But there comes a point in time where we have to grow up, and take responsibility. On the record, working a minimum wage job with a college degree is disillusioning and sometimes stinks. But it puts food on the table and allows me to pay my bills.

I am not an expert in world religions, but from the little bit I do know I’ve noticed something interesting; gods tend to demand some kind of sacrifice for their protection and favor. Government, I applaud your continual desire to recreate Eden. But maybe, just maybe, part of the solution would be giving us back responsibility, and letting us man up. At least that’s a sacrifice I understand. I can’t help but wonder what the cost of all this will be.

Awww, who am I kidding. Governments don’t relinquish power, and who wants to pay for what we can get for free anyway… Here’s to hoping they pick a movie soon. Although I’d hold off on the popcorn. It’s not so good stale.  

Nicole's Knife Rules

A month ago I gave a friend a pocket knife for their birthday. Since I trust this friend with sharp objects less than I trust my sisters at age 12, I wrote out some knife rules. Sadly, my friend seems to have misplaced this list, so I thought I’d put it in a place it could always be found.

I can’t say these are all, original to me, and I’ve added a few to the original list. Please note, these rules are meant in fun, so there will be some tongue in cheek.  If joking about such things bothers you, I would advise skipping this post.

1) A knife is a tool, not a weapon. A pencil can do just as much damage.

2) Never cut toward yourself. Always away from you.

3) Always carry a knife. (Unless it becomes your identity, or you work at a school, or are going on an airplane).

4) Never carry a knife to a gun fight.

5) Always maintain a sharp edge, a dull knife hurts a LOT!

6) Never take a large pocket knife to the Vatican. It’s considered military grade and will be confiscated as an illegal weapon.

7) Never run with an open blade.

8) Keep your knife blade clean.

9) IMPORTANT: NEVER threaten anyone with a knife unless you can pull off a menacing demeanor. If you can’t, spare everyone unnecessary pain.

The following passage from Tad Williams Shadowplay has always stuck in my head as a warning to being stupid with sharp pointy objects.

"They worked for another hour at least as the sun slid down behind the walls and courtyard filled with soothing shadows. Briony, who had thought she could not lift her arm one more time, instead found herself revived by the fascination of sparring with actual blades, of the weight and balance of them, the new shapes they made in her hand. She was delighted she could block Shaso’s own blade with the cross haft of her larger knife and then disarm him with no more than a flick of the wrist. When she managed the trick a few times, he showed her how to move in below that sudden flick with the small knife, stabbing underneath her opponent’s arm. It was strangely intimate, and as the point of the leather-clad blade bounced against his rib she pulled back, suddenly queasy. For the first time she truly felt what she was doing, learning how to stab someone to death, to cut skin and pierce eyes, to let out a man’s guts while she stared him in the face.

The old man looked at her for a long moment. “'Yes, you must get close to kill with a knife-close enough to kiss, almost. Umeyana, the blood-kiss we call it.'”

If you remember nothing else, remember rules 1 and 9.

I'm curious, what rules would you add?

Cutting Vines, Grace Portrayed

Cutting Vines

A week ago Dad asked me if I’d be willing to cut vines for harvest; I was surprised and a little ecstatic. To be invited to drive tractor, that’s the real deal. It’s not that he hasn’t had any of us drive tractor before, but he generally just has himself, his guys or someone needing a job, other than his children, do it. Being the cool person that I am, I calmly told him, “Sure, I’ll give it a go. Uh, you’ll show me first though, right?” To which he answered, “of course” which I think is similar to my cousin telling me “no duh Sherlock.

Field with cut vines.

My tutorial showing me how to do it lasted about 30 min to an hour, and resulted in a before bed list of 20 things to keep in mind. After showing me Dad asked me what I thought. I said it seemed simple enough…  My Father keeping things in perspective said, “It’s not too complicated; Kary (brother) did it last year.”  No pressure.

I am now into my 5^th day of cutting vines. Yesterday was not good. Actually the first several days didn’t go so well.

Day 1: It was ok, but the vines were slipping out a lot and brilliant me figured that was somewhat normal? WRONG!

Day 2: Better on the vines, (I think) but Dad had to come show me how to turn the tractor for the staggered rows without landing it in the canal. Praise the Lord that didn’t happen, I’d never live it down. Thankfully after he showed me I was mostly fine, although I may almost have gotten the tractor stuck once. But it didn’t so, since there are no pics, it didn’t happen.

Sweet potatoes pulled up, NOT GOOD!

Day 3: NOT GOOD. Let’s put it this way, I ended up missing beginner’s night volleyball and hanging out with friends to fix what I’d screwed up and finish that half of the field. Thankfully it went better at the end and by that time I was so exhausted, I didn’t care.

Day 4 – YESTERDAY: I cracked. I went out there on the note of things were going better when I left last night. Unfortunately that note did not carry over to the field or machinery. Row one went well, and then it started acting up. The right side kept getting jammed and I kept having to back over to cut the vines, and potatoes were coming up, because the stupid thing was pulling the entire plant instead of cutting them and……..after 2 hours of trying to make it work, I stopped the tractor, climbed off and sat in the shade. I didn’t want to call Dad out again, he’d had to help me the last three days, I was ready to throw in the towel, but couldn’t quite pull the trigger.

Then I saw I had a missed call from Mom. Turns out, she'd called me with a question about butter the night before, by the end of the conversation I’d told her me cutting vines wasn’t working and they should see if Kary could do it again. In grief I drove the tractor back to the shed, parked it and went home. I was too ashamed to call my Father and tell him myself, I left that to Mom.

I went to my room devastated by yet another failure. The only thing I could think of was to get away. There are some things that are impossible to live down. I was a failed farmer’s daughter. I couldn’t even do a simple job, it was humiliating. Eventually I got up and started looking at hotels, far away from home. A drive sounded like a good idea. I even contacted Domi (another brother) to see if he could take the girls to Youth Group.

Dad putting on the new blades. "They're like shark teeth."

It was while I was curled up again, taking a break from trip planning, that Dad called me. He said it wasn’t me, it was the vine cutter acting up, I’d done nothing wrong. He asked if I was going to leave him hanging. With that statement alone he won me back. He asked me if I enjoyed it and I said “yeah, when it’s working.” He told me it was too soon to call it quits and that my problem was shaken confidence and asked me to meet him in the field in an hour.

Beautiful

How could I say no? I didn’t want to quit, I just didn’t want to ruin harvest or be useless. I felt bad for always needing his help, but I’ve realized, he doesn’t mind sharing his knowledge! In fact, he often goes into extra detail.

He met me in the field and first explained what he’d fixed. Next he drove two rows showing me it was working and explaining things as he went. Then he showed me a wonder that is up there with cut grass.  We went to another field where the sand is heavier and the vines are thicker, and when the vine cutter came through the vines fell away and laid out like a dream. It was truly beautiful. After a couple of passes he gave me the wheel and how well everything ran. It was like Christmas.

I wish I could say my confidence has been fully restored, but it hasn’t. It’s better; I can face my family and go out in public. I wish I could say it ended on that high note, but it didn’t. I went back to the field of difficulty that had me frustrated and cursing. But as Dad told me last week this job is “learn by yelling”. How well my father knows me.  

 I’m nowhere near my Da’s ability to cut vines. I can’t shift while sitting sideways, I can’t turn as tightly and I still mess up with the pole, but that’s ok, ‘cause I’ll learn. From the beginning Dad told me he wasn’t underestimating my ability to mess up, but here’s the kicker, he still chose me and gave me a chance. And instead of letting me fail and quit in shame, he’s working with me to help me get better.

Yesterday my FATHER'S grace was portrayed through a bearded man with rough work hands, and a red SPJ hat. Hopefully in the days and weeks to come, I’ll mess up less. And if a, heaven forbid, disaster happens (not that uncommon in the field); hopefully I’ll remember yesterday and take comfort from it.   

I have to say, today was a nice respite after the last couple of days. The vines cut like butter, and since I went out around the time the work day was ending it was so peaceful. As the sun started setting, making everything golden, life just sort of melted away. All the to do lists, failures, decisions, and plans didn’t matter as I sat on the tractor basking in the glow, cutting vines.