A. brought home a tiller yesterday. And what a tiller it is.
Since I've been at Blackrock, there has not been a resident tiller. Except the actual residents of the house with a shovel, that is. In the past, we have borrowed tillers from various family members, but for one reason or another, that did not happen this year. So the entire garden was dug up by hand.
You know how big our garden is. You can see that that is plain crazy.
I vowed I would never do that again, and that there would be a tiller on our property by next spring, so help me God of Labor-Saving Machinery.
That God heard. And He sent a tiller the likes of which has not been seen for a generation. Literally.
A. saw this tiller on his way into the Small City for court the other day. He was immediately attracted to it because it's old. As you might recall, we have an old lawn tractor that, despite its age, is the best lawn tractor we have ever owned.
And here's Tuffy now!
The old machines were built better. Period. So when A. saw this tiller and realized that it was old and solid cast iron, he was all for it.
He didn't tell us how old this thing was when he mentioned that he had bought it. When he brought it home last night, though, it was apparent that it was older than me. Older than A. Almost, in fact, as old as the MiL. Possibly 50 years old. But it was indeed cast iron and did indeed appear to function properly.
Behold, the Beast.
So we put it to the test in the garden. A. set to on a patch of weeds near the fence where the peas would have been if rabbits hadn't eaten them. And sure enough, that beast of a tiller chewed up that ground like it was nothing.
It performed admirably, but it was quite clear that this is not, as A. enjoys saying in a really terrible Arnold Schwarzenegger accent, a tool for the ladies. The cast iron nature of the beast means that it weighs about a thousand pounds, give or take 800 pounds. Us ladies aren't going anywhere near this behemoth. A. will be doing all the tilling at our house, without doubt.
So, no shoveling or tilling by me? I'll take it.
7 comments:
Oh, darn, Kristin. . . when I see "momentous news" in the title, I'm thinking Cubby is about to have a new baby brother or sister.
I'm laughing because a friend gave us an old tiller that looks exactly like that one. We call it The Beast, because it's impossible to tame. Big Daddy is very strong (!), and even he has to wrestle that thing - with less than satisfying results in our weedy, rocky clay soil. Good Luck to A!
Looks like you came out on top on this one...no digging/no tilling..just be prepared to hand out lots of praise and coffee.
Oh no! Does the fact that you now have a "new" tiller mean that I won't get to see Adam this weekend? Poo.
Moi
Troybilt, that's a workhorse
We have a twin to your "Beast" and my Farmer can barely control it either. It worked great to prep our yard when we needed to resow the lawn and it does make a nice fine seed bed, but there is no walking slowly alongside of it as it bucks and rocks and rolls in our clay, hilly garden area.
Still.... there is something to be said about the women-folk not having to dig up the gardens anymore.
Yay for the tilllers!
Good for you !! I just saw this post today...I guess I was too early yesterday to read you.
Beth
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