A Neighbour in a Ditch.

 Tuesday 30th September 2025

I was back to farming again today. A couple of weeks ago Dad and I were all set to cultivate one of the fields ready for sowing, but he decided at the last minute that the ground was far too dry. So, we left it alone and waited on the weather. Now, after that bit of rain we had a few days back, he judged it right and proper for running the cultivator over.

Everything went smoothly through the morning—steady work, the sort that lets your mind wander while the tractors six cylinders purr, and the machine chatters along behind. After lunch though, things took a turn. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed someone walking across the field towards me. At first I thought it odd—people don’t usually come traipsing across when you’re working. On Eric's advice I keep a hammer by the side of my seat in case of something in needed of hitting, and secondly as a defence against unwanted attention from persistent visitors. It turned out though to be one of our neighbours, so the hammer remained stowed and out of sight. He’d been cutting around his field boundary when his tractor slid into a ditch and got itself hopelessly stuck.

Seeing me close by, he came over to ask for a bit of help. Well, I was glad enough to oblige. On the proviso that he didn't start on the seemingly usual road of questioning my age or abilities. I dropped off the cultivator, and I drove round to where his tractor was resting in the ditch at a rather sorry angle. Good job there’s always a length of wire rope wrapped round the weight block on my tractor—that rope has probably been someone's saviour more than once. Hence it being a permanent resident on the front of my tractor. We fastened it up and, once everything was secure, I eased the power on. I loved the feel of the tyres biting down into the earth, the whole machine sitting down on it's haunches as it pulled forward, as though it knew what I wanted. Bit by bit, with a steady pull, the other tractor clambered free of the ditch like a stubborn old cow finally deciding to move.

The neighbour was mighty pleased, saying I’d saved him no end of time and bother. I have to admit, it gave me a bit of quiet pride too, knowing I’d turned a sticky situation into an easy fix. I secretly felt very proud of my tractor too.

On telling the story during dinner, dad said, "It does a person good to help others—especially neighbours. You never know when you might find yourself needing a hand in return."