When Harley Jacobsen came into Doc’s office the other day for his physical - you know, the one his wife, Gladys, insists on from time to time - it was a treat for Doc.
Harley is one of Doc’s favorite people. Harley is a farmer. Not a young farmer, but a solid farmer. A 24/7 farmer. It is said in coffee-drinking circles – and we have several here – that ol’ Harley can make hair grow on a bald head and wheat grow on rocks.
When he’d been thumped and bumped and listened to and pumped up and partially drained, Harley asked Doc for the verdict.
“Not bad at all for someone your age, Harley,” Doc said, grinning. “But you look tired. My advice is to take some time off and go fishing or take Gladys to the beach. Something fun. Relaxing.”
“Can’t right now, Doc,” Harley said. “Plowing summer fallow.”
“Well, how about later on?”
“There’s harvest you know, and the trees will have to be pruned before winter, and then the winter wheat will go in. Have to overhaul the wheel tractor this winter and add on to the equipment shed, and then it’ll be time to plant.”
“Harley, I want to see you get some rest,” Doc said. “You need two weeks with nothing to do. Get someone to help with the farm and go do something fun.”
“For two weeks?” Harley asked.
“Two full weeks, Harley.”
“Doc, I just can’t do the job in two weeks. Took 60 years of farming to get this tired.”
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2 comments:
Love it.
Delightful.
Takes me back to my childhood when my grandfather, dad, and uncles were farming right after the war...no one was ever idle and no one got to take a vacation.
Sadly, all the men died in their 60s. On the other hand, the women (who had worked just as hard and put up with the men for all those years) survived into their late 80s or early 90s.
I'll let Slim interpret that data. :D
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