There are some things that you just need to know...

Okay... just a warning: this post isn't going to be for the faint of heart. You see, I've told you about Lance, and about combines, and about the problems and joys that come with it all. However, now I'm going to tell you about how it really is.

If this is going to be too much for you... you have to stop reading this.

Now.













Okay... if you stayed this long you are in for it.




Lessons Learned of being a Harvester:


Number One: How to Pee in a Field.

Very few people know that I have never actually peed outside. I just hold it. I tell people this is because..well, I'm a little bit pee-shy and my dad believed in "Keeping the Door Shut." This despite everything else that it could mean, actually means that no matter how loooong the drive may be or how bumpy the road is or how many gallons of Gatorade that a six year old can drink...we NEVER stop until the truck needs fuel. When we traveled as a family it was the unspoken rule. We just all knew. In fact, once I had a friend with me and she wasn't exactly keen on the whole "if you can't hold it don't drink it" method my family ran on, so after an hour or so she needed to pee. As generally little girls are, she was too embarrassed to tell my dad that she needed to go. So, she asked me to.
Here's how it went:

Me: Hey Dad. I've really really got to go to the bathroom. Could we stop soon?
Dad: Sure. Where would you like to go Chelsey?


So, this is my excuse for why I have never "gone" outside.

The real reason? Because I can't. I don't want to admit it, but the few times I have tried I totally just peed all over my shorts...and in some cases my shoes. Granted, I have only tried mayyyybeee four times and it was all before fourth grade. Still. It doesn't at all lessen my embarrassment of the lack of this skill.

So yesterday, I was stuck in the one truck without a two-way (two-way: n. another name for walkie-talkies only they go way WAY farther and you can hook them up in lots of vehicles and have group messaging with your voice. Men like them for business-like things... I like them so I can know what's going on even when no one actually tells me) and my phone is nearly dead. It's dark outside and I have to go. So with the 6% battery I have left, I, of course, call one of my best friends. After a minute of me trying to coax her into gentle, friendly conversation she says: "ALLYSON. YOU HAVE TO LEARN TO PEE OUTSIDE. THIS PROBLEM ISN'T GOING TO GO AWAY!!" So, after much moaning and groaning, I decide that she is right. Since last night was my first successful outside pee, I just thought I would be generous and pass the knowledge on to you.

Step 1: Get out of the truck.
Step 2: Wait. Get back in the truck and find some napkins. (They will come in handy later. Trust me.)
Step 3: Get back out of the truck
Step 4: Take careful time to look through the black abyss and make sure no one is looking.
Step 5: Slowly slide off your shorts.
Step 6: Keep sliding them until they are roughly 7 inches above your knees. (Although, this is probably variable due to general thigh length and height)
Step 7: Lean up against the truck and or running board of the truck.
Step 8: Carefully think about the slope of the ground and the placement of your rope sandals as to not pee on your shoes.
Step 9: Balance for approximately 90 seconds while trying to force yourself to actually do it.
Step 10: You know what Step 10 is.
Step 11: This is where the napkins come in handy.
Step 12: Pull up you pants. Jump back in the truck and act like it never happened.
*This may or may not apply to boys. I'm not really sure.
**You also may or may not feel the need to call a friend immediately to report your success. Feel free to do so.

Number Two: Men Usually Know What They are Doing.

So, last night I'm sitting in the same truck..still and due to our conundrum from yesterday we decide that it is best to send a combine back home to start the work there. So, am just sitting in the truck watching them unhook the header and put it on a trailor, hook up the trailer to the another on of the pickups, and get the combine ready to drive up north.


So, last night I'm sitting in the same truck..still. And due to our conundrum from yesterday, we decide that it is best to send a combine back home to start the work there. So, am just sitting in the truck watching them unhook the header and put it on a trailer, hook up the trailer to the another one of the pickups, and get the combine ready to drive up north. I'm sitting. And watching.

If you don't know much about big machinery, I'll tell you a few things: First, they are very loud. Second, when they back up they have this awful beeping noise that is partly so awful because it has to be heard over the roar of a giant diesel engine. So, as I watch all this progress be made I see that the header is off and the trailer is hooked up and all that is left is to leave. The pick turns around and heads toward the gate. Then the combine starts backing up, I assume to pivot and then head toward the gate.

Except for, the combine doesn't pivot. It just keeps backing. And backing. I start to panic. Because what I haven't told you is that perpendicular to my truck is a huge fuel trailer. It's big and green and holds about 1000 gallons of fuel. So, this combine is backing up into this big fuel tank and that is not only big but it is completely full! (One of my jobs this afternoon was to go fill it up so we wouldn't have to do it later that night.)

The combine pauses. I heave a sigh of relieve, because even though combine's have side mirrors I don't think you could see something that was directly behind you that was the same color as the scenery in a black abyss. Then the worst thing happens. The combine starts backing up more! It's now only like 10 inches from the fuel tank and still backing. (In my head, which fast forwards scary events by two-fold, the fuel tank gets thrown on its side, spills all the fuel everywhere, and in the process tears up the whole back of the combine.)

It is now that I start rappidly honking my horn, but it can't be heard over the loud engine and the beeping I told you about earlier. I just honk, and Honk, and HONKKK! My blood is pumping and I'm shaking over the idea of what might happen. So, I keep going and realize that the honking isn't working.

I JUMP out of my truck and start yelling people's names, but still... no one can hear me. I didn't even have a two-way to holler at them on to tell them what is going on! I wave my arms, but no one can see me! I don't know what to do..

I almost become reserved to the fact that all kinds of bad things are eminent and I can't do anything about them fast enough. When suddenly...  the combine stops again. A mere 4 inches from the fuel tank. The driver hops out and unhooks the nozzle and begins to fuel up the giant machine for the long drive home.


It is at this point that I realize that I am somewhat of an idiot.
The men were all on the two-way guiding the combine back to the fuel tank.
I was in a completely unnecessary state of panic because I couldn't hear them to know this.

So, for your piece of mind, nothing bad happened. That is the reason for rule number two.

Both of these rules are laid out for you by me, because there are just some things that you need to know..