Well, as Karen mentioned, the big day finally arrived. Sure enough, we have tractor power. Red tractor power! DIESEL fired, 4 cylinders of International Harvester 674 loader tractor wheelin and dealin.

I found it on Craigslist, went and saw it, and knew it was just what I’ve been looking for. I was prepared to get a tractor of any color, but in my heart of hearts, I longed for another red tractor. (To the unitiated, un-tractored out there, this means basically that I am talking about an International or Farmall tractor, and not one that is green, or blue, orange, yellow, or any of the other tractor colors. Tractor companies paint all their machines the same color, and the practiced eye can tell the make of a tractor from a very long distance simply by it’s color). My very first tractor was a red and white Farmall, a very beautiful tractor, and I loved her. You know the rest of the girl meets tractor story. I am a loyal sort.

So I arranged with the neighbor Curt to haul it home. Curt is one of those best-you-could-ever-ask-for neighbors. He knows stuff, he’s got stuff, and he does stuff. He can pretty much do anything. He’s a master of machine and animals and crops, and he’s a genuinely nice guy to boot, and always answers his phone. So Curt got to the place, and he told me he looked the tractor over pretty good, and he wasn’t about to let me spend this kind of money if the tractor didn’t live up to it. But it got Curt’s okay, and he got it on his trailer and brought her home to me. That evening, while waiting for it to arrive, I was like an anxious mother waiting for her children to come home from a trip in a bad storm.

It finally arrived. There it was! A big red tractor! It was so cool! Just the right size! Wow, now I could DO some shit around here! My very own precious diesel tractor. A loader, with a bale spear. We can move dirt, manure, compost, big round bales, logs, snow, plow, chop, cultivate, elevate, pull, push, lift, drag, you name it! This 674 is a very capable all-around machine. I looked high and low and far and wide, and waited patiently for the right tractor to come along.

It was a little low in fuel, so Curt suggested I drive it down to his place and fill it up. It took almost 20 minutes to get near to his house. Before I got there, he came by in his truck, and said he had to leave to go look at some posts (some for our fence-to-be), so I turned around and headed back home.

I was tooling back home with a happy grin on my face. It sure felt good to be atop a tractor again. I loved this tractor. Yay.

Alla sudden, I noticed the oil pressure gauge dropping fast. What the…?? I looked below and behind the tractor for a trail of oil, nothing looked abnormal at all. Just as I was starting to wonder if the gauges weren’t working right (a common thing with older tractors), a terrible screeching noise and a puff of smoke came out of the front end! NO! I jerked the wheel to the right, and cut the engine as fast as I could.

I couldn’t call Curt, cuz he was on his way half way to Appleton. But another neighbor, Ron, came out and he got on his Farmall and pulled me home. Thanks, Ron.

I checked the oil level, and it was not only full, it was way over full. No leaks or anything.

I waited until the tractor cooled down, and we had a little talk. I patted her, and spoke encouragingly to her while I went about her with a rag, cleaning up various grease smudges. I won’t say exactly what was said, because that is a religious protection. However, I believe she liked what I told her. I will admit I made some promises.

I crossed my fingers, and tried to turn the engine over again. And she started right up, and purred like a kitten. No bad noises, no bad smells, all belts and hoses working just fine, and I had oil pressure….

Fast forward to today, and I have talked to all kinds of guys about this. I have gone from my stomach being in knots over this, thinking I need a new engine, to maybe I only need a new oil pump, to thinking maybe I don’t need anything except to change the oil and I dodged a bullet. Please, please, please.

I keep trying to think on the bright side. Like, it’s not 20 below zero, and the driveway isn’t filled with three feet of snow. I don’t have a crop of hay cut and needing baling now. But it’s hard, having a big new baby in the yard, and only being able to approach her with fret and concern. Sometimes I am filled with cautious optimism, sometimes with an unreal sinking feeling.

Curt is going to talk to the Olson boys tomorrow, after they finish milking. They run Internationals and they like to work on them as well. I will wait to hear what they think.

Now grit your teeth and clench your fists with me, and repeat, “Please, please, please”