Why Farm Vehicles have Names

Have you noticed that most farm vehicles have a name? Now always normal names either … lets explain what I mean.

This morning I ended up driving Deathtrap, because Aaron had to take Courtney. Courtney got her name because she’s supposed to be a “courtin vehicle.” Deathtrap – or rattletrap as some people call him – is pretty much explanatory. He’s got no rearview mirror, no handle on the inside of the driver door (shutting the door is a pain). The windows don’t roll down, and the only seatbelts that work are the drivers belt, and one of them in the back. Add to that, the windshield reflects really badly when the sun hits it just right. Therefore; she earned her name.

A farmer doesn’t do what a lot of other people do. Although using “mom’s car”, and “dad’s car”, works to a point … it doesn’t work so well all the way down. There’s trucks, cars, tractors, and so on. So they get names, or “designations” … depending on the imagination of the user.

A new pickup is bought, and it’s called, at first, “the red truck.” After a while, it becomes “The Red Truck”, even if other red trucks are bought, it remains, “The Red Truck”, and all the others will have other names.

Aaron found a pickup he wants, and it comes with a name, that’s half the charm. The pickup is named “Chuck Norris.” It’ll probably keep its name for the life of the vehicle. when I was in college, I drove “Charlie” … who was an old car that used to belong to my great grandparents – but they named her Charlie, so she kept the name.

If somebody gets a new truck … the names have to evolve. For example, “grandpa’s truck” is replaced by “grandpas new truck” … for at least two years these will be the designations. Eventually “Grandpas New Truck” will become “Grandpa’s Truck”, and the old Grandpas truck will get a new name, dependent on personality, color, or some physical aspect.

Sometimes names are a little more boring than the colors; …. “The Chevy”, “The Malibu”, “The Pinto” …. Yeah, but it works, and everybody knows which car/truck/ whatever is meant.

As such, there’s “The Green Truck” (don’t forget, “The” is part of the name … it can’t be left out.). There’s “Little Red” (a cute little red tractor). “The 10 wheeler” … yeah … imaginative. Even if the farm gets other ten wheelers, that will always be “The 10 Wheeler.” Then there’s “The White Truck”, I remember a vehicle called “Rollover” (need I say more?) and a myriad of other names that are entertaining. (we used to have an old station wagon dubbed, “The Green Thing”.

All in all, I’ve decided I like it when cars have names, it gives them personality!

Remembering Eternity

Along with my new work schedule came a Friday class - preparing for eternal marriage. It's full of singles and engaged couples. A whole lot of people with eternity to look forward to.

The teacher said he wants each of his engaged students to reflect on the moment they knew that he/she was "the one."

I had to start thinking. Its' been so long, but it feels like it was not so long ago. I knew my husband for many years, since we were little 14 year olds, young and immature. He claims he knew from the first that I was perfect for him. I wasn't so fast.

The years flew by, and in high school I'd avoid the corner he and his friends hung out during lunch, because for some reason, I felt embarrassed when he saw me with another boys arm around my waist. He was just a friend!

We graduated high school, and went to a 3 day stake youth conference. Looking back, I think that's where things started to change. We spent hours talking, we went together for the Y hike (hiking to the Y near BYU campus), and I grew very fond of him.

That Christmas he gave me a pair of moccasins. He'd convinced my sister to get my foot size, and he made me leather moccasins, which I wore a lot.

He left on his mission in July, 2001, and I put the moccasins, and a few remnants from that youth conference, and the program from his farewell, in a box and sealed it. Along with it I tried to seal his memory.

But it didn't work. We wrote back and forth. He wrote me a short one page letter every week. I think he missed 3 weeks his entire mission. He told me how things were going there, and sent pictures. And I wrote ... not as faithfully. Sometimes a month would go between letters, but when I felt like writing, I'd write. And I'd write whatever was on my mind. I soon learned to keep the letters to 5 pages, (or 3 pages and one picture), because any more than that took another stamp. But there were days I'd send a five page letter, only to put another in the mail the next day. Rumor has it that he got teased for that on his mission. But what missionary doesn't appreciate long letters from home.

About a year after he left, I missed those moccasins so badly I pulled them out of storage and started wearing them again. They reminded me of him, but they were so comfortable.

The next spring, near valentines his sister got engaged. They hadn't told him yet, so I didn't mention anything in my letters. Conference weekend I met the fiance, and I happened to mention it in a letter to him. After all, she'd been engaged for two months!

Oops ... they hadn't told him. They wanted to wait for mothers day. Just a month before the wedding. So I accidentally broke the news ... the letter I got back was something like, "are you sure she's getting married?"

June came, and he came home. He was still "just a friend," I never thought of him as more than that. He was just a friend, and always had been. we hung out a little bit, and talked a lot. 2 weeks after he came home was his "not a homecoming" talk in church. I was listening to him talk, and I realized something ... I loved this man. Not sort of, I really loved this man. And I couldn't imagine forever with anybody else.

As tears leaked from my eyes, I realized I'd loved him for a long time, and I just hadn't admitted it to myself.

A week later we were engaged, July 2nd, I was driving him home, as we'd gone on a walk that morning. We sat in the front seat of the car talking for the longest time and he asked about my plans to go on a mission. Then asked what I'd think if he asked me to marry him.

Six months to the day later, we got married in the Idaho falls temple. We have our disagreements on occasion. But I love him, and always will.

and after we got engaged, I did ask him to patch the holes I'd worn in my moccasins. He's replaced the soles 3 times since then. Even now, occasionally when I look at him, my heart skips a beat, and I remember how lucky I am to be married to this man.

Lazy UPS man. . . .

So the other day my son ran inside telling us that there was a man outside. Jen goes outside to see a very lost looking UPS man ....

"Is this where {my grandfather} lives?"

"No .. that direction, second house on the left." About a half mile ... literally!

"Can I leave the package here for him? I'm in a hurry." Umm ... it's two houses ... just down the road ... how hard can that be?

So he walks to his car and brings the box to us. Leaving it for us to deliver to grandpa, two houses away, because he couldn't take the time to do his job and deliver it two houses away.

Umm .... I think I prefer FedEx... they deliver things where they belong!

This bothered me Because:

A: He didn't "have time" to do his job?

B: He dropped off a package for somebody else, knowing it was the wrong house.

C: He expected us to do the delivering.

I wasn't sure if it was UPS or FedEx at first, but I know they both have distinctive trucks. So I googled "Fedex Image" and "UPS image" and found pictures of both their trucks. The brown truck wins! (Or loses, as the case may be), because I know what the idiot was driving.

Next time, hire somebody that can do their job!