My Eternal Farmer Tan

My bike ride today reminded me of growing up on a farm.  Or, more appropriately, my tan line from my bike ride today reminded me of growing up on a farm.  Driving open-cab tractors in a bikini, only the top half of my legs got a tan--from the knees down, I remained glaringly pale.     Okay, honestly, maybe I didn't always farm in a bikini.  Definitely not when the polygamists were at the field buying hay (this is in Utah, remember)--that was the only time my dad insisted we sisters cover up....but I'm straying from my point.  I'm sure I have one.

When I was a kid, my dad used to holler up the stairs at 5:30AM and wake us up-- which is why, to this day, I cannot sleep in past 6AM.  It's my worst trait--especially after a night of drinking--but I'll never be able to break it.   Anyway, this is pretty much how I learned to drive a tractor when I was 8:

"Okay.  I think you're set.  See you when you're done."

"But I don't know how to stop!"

"You don't need to know how to stop.  I'll be back when you're done.  Don't break anything."

"But what if I....."

"See you when you're done."

And then he left me with a box of crackers and a jug of water.  And that was that.  Farmers can't be bothered to explain common sense things to people.  Eventually, I learned how to stop a tractor without crashing into a haystack.  Or ditch.  Or parked car.  Thank God.