The field was wet and muddy ~ November 24, 1994

David Heiller

David loved working with his tractors!
(And he wasn't afraid of getting stuck, either.)

 

The field was wet and muddy

But I trusted to my luck,

And with a load of firewood

I got my tractor stuck.

My darling wife had warned me

Not to take the tractor out

To the woods on Saturday.

“You’ll get it stuck, no doubt,

Like you did the last time.”

Yes, I remembered well,

Hauling in a load of ash.

It made me mad as heck.

But part of making firewood

Involves a little luck

Hoping that you don’t get hurt

Or that you don’t get stuck.

I knew that it was a risky

But that’s what makes it fun

When you take a chance at work

And when that work gets done.

So I hung my muddy pants

On the clothesline outside.

And came in wearing boxers

And a grin of manly pride,

And I told my darling Cindy,

And I took the “Told-you-so’s,”

And hoped by Sunday morning

That the soft would be froze.

We had a low lying field that had to be crossed to
 get to our woods. It made an adventure out of wood
making and sap gathering!

No luck on that end either,

So I called on my friend Steve.

He brought the Sunday paper

And I wouldn’t let him leave,

Until he walked out to the field

And cranked upon a winch.

While I sat on the tractor

And it came out, inch by inch.

There’s nothing worse than the feeling

When you know your tractor’s stuck,

When you see the wheels start spinning

And sink down into the muck.

But then there’s nothing finer

Than the steady, purring sound

Of your ancient, faithful tractor

When she’s back on solid ground.

And it’s a fine, fine feeling

When the house heats up at night

With firewood you brought in

That put up a little fight.

The cheerful flames and fire

Tell a story as you burn it,

Tell how it wasn’t easy work

And how you had to earn it.

So when you hear me cussing

And my pants are black with goo,

Come help pull out my tractor

It’s good for me, and you.