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You may be looking at the picture and wondering what the heck you’re looking at. Don’t worry you’re in good company, I wondered the exact same thing. Turns out the answer to that question is quite the tale.
I arrived home from work, late in the evening one night last
week and stopped at the barn to say hi to the horses, as I usually do. Hubs
drove down the hill to the barn and rather than his usual greeting, he started
with, “You just missed the show.” This statement always strikes a bit
of fear in my heart. It either means I missed something adorably cute that one
of the animals did or he narrowly escaped death. There never seems to be any middle
ground between these two. In this particular instance it was the latter.
Some of you may remember the very large spool we have in the
goat pasture. Hubs brought it home many years ago and it was quite the hair
raising adventure getting it across the horse pasture and put the hillside to
the goat pasture. The goats have always loved playing on the spool, but alas
it’s time in the goat pasture is coming to an end. We’ve decided to repurpose
the lower portion of the pasture and so we needed to move the spool (along with
a rather large stack of old split rails and a ton + pile of rocks).
With us both working off the farm and only having a few
hours each evening of daylight to work by, it took most of a week to get all
the wood rails and rocks moved. The last thing to move was the spool. I figured
we would get it this weekend when we were both home because the spool has a few
of the bottom pieces broken out and won’t roll well and if it happens to get out of control on the hillside there’s a fence right below it
that I would prefer to keep in one piece and just past the fence is the pond.
Despite my concerns, Hubs decided he could get it done alone. Inevitably whenever he decides that a two or more person job can be done alone, I picture the little imp that sits on my shoulder whispering into my ear, “grab a beer and watch this!” Sure enough, he proceeded to tell me the tale of how he had wrapped a chain around the spool and begun to drag the spool. Of course we don’t have a 4WD tractor and between the rain slick, mud and the slope of the hill, the tractor started sliding. The new angle between the spool and tractor cause the chain to strain and then break. The chain went flying by and when his life stopped flashing before his eyes he looked back he saw the spool tipped and had started a slow motion, drunken roll down the hill. He watched in equal parts fascination and horror as it continued its ungainly wobbly roll, down the hill toward the fence. Then, just when he was convinced the fence was going to be demolished the spool, rather miraculously hit a bump in the ground, launching the huge spool several feet in the air, causing it to only graze the fence before landing on the other side. It finished its Olympic worthy rambling downhill journey by rolling into the pond before falling over.
So the answer to the question, “what the heck is that a picture of?” is the spool, sitting in the pond and half covered in brush, half covered in mucky and water. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, farming isn’t for the faint of heart.
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2019-02-03 10:38:45
Karl Hoffman is a distinguished agriculturalist with over four decades of experience in sustainable farming practices. He holds a Ph.D. in Agronomy from Cornell University and has made significant contributions as a professor at Iowa State University. Hoffman’s groundbreaking research on integrated pest management and soil health has revolutionized modern agriculture. As a respected farm journalist, his column “Field Notes with Karl Hoffman” and his blog “The Modern Farmer” provide insightful, practical advice to a global audience. Hoffman’s work with the USDA and the United Nations FAO has enhanced food security worldwide. His awards include the USDA’s Distinguished Service Award and the World Food Prize, reflecting his profound impact on agriculture and sustainability.
