Harvest is meant to be all about sunshine, bumper yields, producing crops of the highest quality and working with a good team. Well at least we got one of these this year.
Tim was back for his second season on the combine officially counting himself as a seasoned professional despite still not having a clue of any of the field numbers. I have started to dread his phone calls when the combine is running. It is not so much the fact that there may be a problem, more the screeched “mayday, mayday” which greets me on taking the call.
Dad has been promoted from shovel and elevator operative in our old storage system to managing the new drier and touchscreen control. I must confess to being a little alarmed when I phoned to check on progress when the first wheat needed drying to be told: “Yep, everything is fine. Once I have waited for the enforced shutdown to complete it should be all systems go.” A moment later: “Sod it, I have pushed the same button again. How do I get round these enforced shutdowns?” I am pleased to say the wheat is now dry.
Also a big thank you to the grain-carting gang – William, David and the baby of the bunch, Ryan. He comes to cart grain in wellies: “They are Le Chameau you know.”
He also drinks Red Bull like a dairy cow drinks water, and suffers from a hitherto unknown medical condition called John Deere Testicle. My understanding is it is caused by bouncing around carting grain while wearing very loose fitting under-garments; imagine cracking walnuts at Christmas and you will get the idea.
I may be unpopular among most in the country still struggling to finish harvest for mentioning this, but could anyone else do with some rain to get the oilseed rape growing?