1. The walking to check cows. Because Dad didn't believe in three-wheelers back then.
2. The banter in the barn. Chucking bales and sweating and talking. Accomplishing something together. Mom, Dad, my brother and me.
3. The Class A license my dad made me get when I was 16. I still feel (overly) prideful and (unnecessarily) cool that I have that. Never mind that I still can't drive a 13-gear manual transmission.
4. The chance to try. When my dad sent me out (with my new aforementioned license) in the dually with a 24-by-8 livestock trailer loaded with a dozen head of show cattle and a couple dozen bales of hay and straw with little more than my brother and directions to the next county fairgrounds, I was scared out of my mind. And exhilarated when I did it. Preferably without having to back up. Ever.
5. The understanding of the weather. Watching a front move in, deciding whether to pull the baler out of the field because we're about to get poured on, or stay because it's only a few sprinkles. Knowing that what we do and our success at doing so is largely dependent on what happens in the sky. Because really, that's depending on the God who controls it all.
Five Things: The Series