Fired again...

My husband often calls me the kiss of death and I am starting to believe (as a defense mechanism) that is a good thing.

I can go down on my sinking ship and always say that I have tried my hardest. That has been my motto to my children for as long as I remember. "Try your hardest!".

I wake up at 4:00 a.m. for work every morning if not earlier (it depends what kind of cake monster is disturbing me...). And in the Fall and Spring I get home from work and try to help Randy out to either get the crap in the fields or get the crap out. Most times I am stopping traffic on bridges or just driving him from farm to farm. But in the fall I get to touch stuff. Yeah baby. I love to drive the combine It is by far the coolest thing for someone that has slight OCD issues. I can clean up a dead ugly field in no time flat and leave no residue. Better than Clorox wipes. Not to mention it provides the only income that we will see for another 350 days.... that will get one excited.

This year I was fired on my first run. Now don't get me wrong I get fired every season at least three or four times. Like when I have to stop bridge traffic in Crumpton (They never stop...), unloading the combine (I never can get it in the tractor trailer the first couple of times; bad depth perception...) I always over fill; under fill the truck. Whatever. I think that he really fired me for real last season when I combined the goose blind up... what? there was corn there and he told me to, "get it all". This time I was just washing the windows and the tire popped. We knew that the tire wasn't in great shape but with a little love and care Randy was keeping it going and trying to get it through another season. Well $1,400 bucks later, we can baby another tire for a year or so... I was just trying to wash the windows.

He often will stalk me when he is running the trucks and I am running the combine and I get real nervous. I am not sure how Farmers would fire their wives before cell phones. I guess it would be a little more dramatic and tears would be involved but I know for sure that when he calls me on the combine it can't be a "good thing". "Your going to slow/fast", "Your dropping corn", Did you even try to get it in the truck?". The worst is when you have to count over 8 rows in the middle of the field and I go ten rows. He gets real pissy pants then. He said I make other farmers laugh at him and he feels all short bus. I guess you do look stupid when there are two random rows here and there that spread over 50 acres and you have to run the combine over them. "wasting fuel, messing up yield report." blah, blah blah. Trying my hardest Genius.

He is getting stressed (as usual) Randy carries more weight on his shoulders than most people. He works harder, faster, longer than anyone (except the Bakery owners I work for, they are robots I tell ya). I am proud to be a Farmer's wife, even if I just got fired... again (forgot to bring him his tea...).