We’ve been married 33 years. I still haven’t mastered the art of reading his mind.
I’m certain I’m not the only wife that feels this way. It helps me to think that, anyways.
This is how my morning began. Frank is loaded from last night and is waiting to go to the elevator. Cap’n Combine announces that he’s not going to be able to unload it for me this morning because he really wants to get things started in the field earlier than usual. We’re on our last field and it’s a weedy mess. I tell him that’s fine, I can finish what I’m doing here at the trailer house (making lunches and book work) and dump it. I knew there was an empty truck sitting next to mine so I wasn’t in too big of a hurry.
So, here’s where things go wrong.
Knowing the empty truck is there and the usual morning field chores have yet to be done, I tell myself I should have a couple of hours to finish what I’m doing and get the loaded truck to the elevator. Afterall, he said, “Just come when you get to a point and can”. Well, to me, that’s thinking about what needs to be done and taking into consideration there’s an empty truck. I was thinking too hard.
I finished what I was doing (book work seems to be endless) and started Frank. Loaded the lunches and all my paraphernalia needed for the day, told the girls “see ya later” and walked out the door. As I was heading for Frank, I was feeling pretty good about what I had accomplished and I should still get to the field in plenty of time.
Just as I’m driving down main street Shattuck towards the elevator, I get a phone call. It’s Jim. “How ya coming along?” My heart sank. I knew right then and there he was in the field waiting for me. And then I have to tell him, “I’m just heading to the elevator”. “Well, we were going to load your truck first so we could keep everything moving.” Due to the field conditions, Anthony was hoping he could stay in the combine as much as possible. When he and his wife are on their own, they do the same sort of thing we do. Amanda can run the combine while Anthony takes the truck. They neglected to tell me my truck was #1 in line.
I pull up to the elevator. Oh good…no line!! Maybe I can get through and get to the field before the truck is desperately needed. Frank is unloaded in a reasonably short amount of time and I call Jim on the 2-way, “I’m headed back”. His reply, “Well, now you can just go back to the trailer and wait for an hour”.
So much for reading minds.
Guess they unloaded on the empty truck. I replied, “Nope, I’m headed to the field”. I wasn’t about to be late again – not with the stress of weedy and muddy fields. When things aren’t going real well in the wheat field, patience and stress levels are increased BIG TIME!
Being the wife of a harvester (or anyone who works with their spouse) means knowing that you’re the one who will get yelled at. You’re the one that takes the heat when the locomotive is needing to release steam. You’re the one that has to learn to read minds. You’re the one who is also the one in charge of taking care of things at the house (or Cottage on Wheels) and keeping things running smoothly on the home front. It’s not an easy position in the scheme of things and it’s not a job for the faint at heart. Sometimes men just don’t realize how difficult it is to keep EVERYTHING running smoothly for them. And it’s hard to bite your tongue when you hear things like, “I can’t do everything”, “can you be out here NOW?”, “I need you to do this right NOW (while you’re presently doing something else rather important)”, etc.
I understand about needing someone to rely on. Someone who will make sure “stuff” is taken care of. But sometimes, I need a little patience from him, too. Patience to understand that I really am doing the best I can. My heart is in the right place, the stresses of each day just can’t always be fixed right NOW. And…I need to work on that skill of reading his mind a bit longer. UGH!!
And…you know what? It all worked out just fine! Me and Frank have been able to keep up just fine and the other truck hasn’t had to leave the field (yet).
Thanks for letting me vent!