Wednesday 13th August 2025.
This morning I had to go carting grain as Nigel had to have the morning off to attend an appointment for a shoulder problem. As it was only going to be for a few hours it wasn't worth swapping my tractor from the baler to the grain cart so I used the new demo tractor that Nigel had been using since it's arrival last Friday. Also I was aware of the fact that had he returned when I was away from the place he may have got some fancy idea of putting his tractor on to the baler had I been using mine to cart grain.I most certainly didn't want that. You wouldn't think anyone would do that but there was no doubting in my mind that Nigel would. So I left my tractor on the baler and locked it up.
I sort of wish I'd gone to the trouble of swapping tractors to be honest as it turns out Nigel isn't very house proud. It was like climbing in to the rear of a rubbish collection truck. I realise it's different for me as my tractor is mine where as Nigel has no interest in his other than to use it for work. Even so, I've decided to make a point of telling him to get it tidied up and to look after it better, after all, the point of him being here is to get experience and learn. I guess it will lead to more trouble. Maybe I should just leave it.
Anyway, once I'd kicked all the cans and bottles in to one corner out of the way I was able to get going and everything went fine once I'd got used to it being a different make of tractor to mine. Mid morning, just after dumping my second load in to the grain shed, Mr Booth showed up in his usual cloud of dust.
He bails out of his car just as I'm about to get on the tractor and go back to the field, I was thinking I had to get going so didn't want to hang around talking to him.
"What's this then?" He shouts. As I make to climb the steps to the cab.
He never just talks! He's taking huge strides towards me, arms flailing everywhere in his usual over exuberant manner. Even the simplest of things are played out in a crazy wild way. It's hard to read his intentions as he has these teeth that make it look like he is continually smiling. I always feel like I'm about to get embroiled in a punch up when talking to him. He gets right in your face and to make sure he has your attention he is pulling on your sleeve with one hand while the other is waving around. The only good thing about it is that he's not an octopus.
"What's what?" I ask when eventually I get chance to respond.
"What you got a Case for?"
Is it any good?"
Then before I can reply to either question he's pushed past me and is climbing in to the cab. Eric appears at this point and I can see what he's thinking! I thought his eyes were going to pop out the way they were rolling around in their sockets.
"Where're we going then?" He shouted through the door at me. I didn't like the sound of this 'we' business.
I'd hardly finished my reply and he was ordering me to get in.
"Hurry up, you'll need to shape yourself or we'll be holding the job up."
If he'd left me be I would have been half way back to the field by now, so technically speaking, it was he who was holding the job up.
He'd put the buddy seat down and was whacking it with his hand. I took this as clear indication that I'd been demoted to passenger, which wasn't a very pleasing thought as I still had vivid memories of the last time I was Mr Booths passenger. At least this time we wouldn't be doing sixty and banging the bottom out of the vehicle as before. It didn't stop him trying though!
What with him and Nigel I really am beginning to think I'm a slow coach. In the run to the field I think we tested ever boundary that is possible to be tested on a tractor. We're driving down the lane, he's first on the grass verge at one side of the road, then the other, thankfully we have no hedges or anything down our lanes. It was all because he was playing around on the computer screen instead of stopping to operate it properly. I got a little confused when he gleefully shouted that he had set up his own personal user profile. Why would he need to? To his credit though, I have to confess that he worked it out which I find impressive considering we were traveling full pelt down the road - well, except for when we were on the grass verge! I'm not impressed by the bruise he gave me on my arm when he punch it out of shear excitement at his achievement.
"I like this, I like this ALOT!!" He kept on saying. I'm glad someone was enjoying the experience.
I don't think he was still for a minute during the whole journey. He was turning this way and that, pressing every button there was to be pressed not seemingly to have a clue what each one did. He tested out the suspension on the roughest part of the track and commented on how smooth it felt. This was okay for him as he was sitting in a nice comfy air suspended seat. Mine was just a hard thing bolted directly to the frame of the tractor.
I couldn't get off quick enough once we had arrived and stopped in the field. I wanted to get off while I had the chance, before he decided to start off again. I'd no need to worry as he followed me and went running down the field waving and shouting in hot pursuit of dad in the combine harvester. It was all pointless as I could see the orange beacon flashing on the combine which indicates that the tank needs emptying. So I also set off in hot pursuit, but on the tractor, and after I'd adjusted the seat that Mr Booth had managed to alter in ever possible way. I over took Mr Booth who was flagging at this point, even his arms seemed to have calmed down a little. I thought to offer him a lift - but not for long! Instead I got on the radio to warn dad that he had a visitor trying to flag him down. Dad can never see anything half the time as he is always consumed by a cloud of dust, plus he's having to pay close attention to what he's doing.
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