Our parents are taking off for the summer to sail to Alaska. I really want to go, but noooooo. So, they had to decide what to do with me and my brother. I'm 12, old enough to baby sit, so they could just pay me to stay home and look after myself. But noooooo again. Ron gets to go to science camp for the summer because he is just so darned smart. I get farmed out to our grandparents on, wait for it, The Farm. Does that sound fair? Don't get me wrong, I love my grandparents, but an entire summer on the farm? Please. Give me a break. What about my friends? Well, at least I know what I will write about for the obligatory back to school essay “What I did this summer.” Blech.
Mom gives me a list of rules about helping out, dishes, vacuuming, all that stuff I already know. Then she says, “And I don't want you riding on the tractor.” What? She can't be serious. I love standing on the tow bar behind Gramps. He won't let me ride while he's plowing or harrowing or whatever, but I get to ride when he's bringing the tractor in from the field to put it in the barn for the night. Just because he rolled it last summer Mom thinks it is too dangerous. He wasn't even hurt. We'll see.
I have been packing for a week and the day after school's out we leave town. First, they drop me off at The Farm, not even staying for lunch, and then take Ron over to Seabeck for the stupid science camp. They'll go back to Seattle and set sail for Alaska in a couple of days.
I help Grams fix lunch and Gramps comes in from the field, first washing up at the spigot outside. We sit down at the huge old antique dining table. It must have been intended for a much larger room because it takes up way too much space in the kitchen. I always bang my shins when I scoot my chair in. Stupid table. The kitchen smells like apples and cinnamon so I know we will get pie for dessert, and nothing is better than Grams' apple pie. Lot of times Gramps has a big piece of pie for breakfast and he puts chicken gravy on it. Yuck.
It's June so it's strawberry season. I love strawberry season. I am really good at picking. Gramps' rule is that you have to pick a row clean, starting at the top and going all the way to the bottom. You don't get to row hop, moving over to another row when you see a really nice clump of berries. Of course, the people who pay to pick get to do that, but I am paid to pick. So, I pick clean. I am really flexible so bending over doesn't bother me. Sometimes I pick on one side and then the other and sometimes I straddle the row. I get paid by the pound, but that will be in a couple of weeks.
Right now, the berries are just beginning to show color. As soon as the flowers show, Gramps quits watering with the overhead sprinkler system. He runs water down between the rows so the leaves and flowers and fruit don't get wet and rot. I love helping him with this, so Grams lets me skip the washing up. He waits for me while I quickly change into my Farm Girl clothes.
We make a great team. He uses his small hoe to take out the weeds and his big hoe to make sure the water runs all the way down the slope, from the top of the field to the bottom. Every plant has to drink to make big fat red berries. I get to direct the water from the irrigation pipe into the ditches between the rows. We water several rows at a time and then I make little dams and divert the water into new rows. I have my own hoe to do this and it requires a lot of attention to detail. You can't have the water breaking through a dam and seeping into a row that has already been watered. That's just wasteful. Gramps helped build Grand Coulee Dam so that's probably why I am so good at this.
The season is now at its peak and the warm air smells delightful. As my nose gets close to the plants, I can taste the juicy sweet berries even before I pop one in my mouth. Lots of people are coming to pick every day. Gramps assigns them rows but of course they jump all over the place. They pay by the pound for the berries they pick and if they want more, they buy the ones I pick. Gramps also takes orders from people in town. Sometimes I ride into town with him to help make the deliveries. If there are extra cups of berries, I can always sell them on the steps of the Court House which is fun because sometimes people give me tips. I save my money for when Grams and I go to town and visit the second-hand stores.
Well, strawberry season is over and we are plowing up one of the fields. To be accurate, I am sitting under the apple tree, which is covered with little green apples, reading my book, and Gramps is riding the tractor. The field is on a hill side so when the dirt dries it's great for running down as fast as possible, and maybe falling and getting really dirty. It's the most fun when my brother and the cousins are here and we have races. There's a pipe at the bottom which brings water from the spring. It's really cold and refreshing on a warm day. When I take a bath afterward the dirt ring in the tub is epic. Oh yes, that is one of the things Mom reminded me to do. Always wash the bath tub and only use one towel to dry off.
Gramps disconnects the plow so I know he's heading to the barn. I hop up, ready to stand behind him on the tow bar. But then he stops beside me and gets off. “Wanna drive it back?” he asks. And just like that I'm sitting in the big old tractor seat. It's metal, but contoured to fit, and the beat up old blanket is soft and warm.
He shows me how to use the clutch and brake and gear stick, but I already know from riding behind him and watching so many times before. It takes a little practice to get going. Driving carefully along the dirt track, I pass the corn and bean fields. I concentrate really hard on the narrow path by the falling down shed, where Gramps rolled the tractor, and make it to the barn without mishap. I stop in front of the double doors and Gramps drives it on in. Giving him a big hug and thank you, I laugh all the way to the house. Super best day ever!
Author: Laura Nicol
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