Blog: Reflections from Rural Route 2

 

Friday, June 09, 2006, 19:54

Tilt-a-Whirl

When I was a kid, I liked to ride on the Tilt-A-Whirl at the fair in town every summer. I don't know why I liked the ride so much. Maybe because I also thought it was fun to spin around and around and around on my feet until I got so dizzy and disoriented that I would fall over -- and riding the Tilt-A-Whirl was like that.

My -- but how times have changed.

Or rather -- what I should is -- how *I* have changed. Because nowadays, I don't think that falling over is such a great idea at all. Which is why I found it slightly alarming last Sunday evening when we were unloading a load of hay and I noticed that the world was slanted.

"Why does everything seem to be tilted?" I wondered, as I walked across the hay wagon to get another bale of hay.

I was throwing the bales off the wagon, and Randy was inside the barn, stacking the hay. My brother had started baling his hay, and we decided we had better get some hay from him before it was all spoken for. It is so dry that our own hayfield is not growing very much -- and it won't grow very much, either, unless we get lots of rain. And without hay, Isabelle and Kajun will get mighty hungry.

My brother was delighted that we wanted some of his hay right out of the field. Since the barn burned down a few years back, he doesn't have anywhere to store it. "Nobody is exactly standing in line to get the hay," is what he said.

Anyway, that's why Randy and I were unloading hay -- and while we were unloading hay, that's when I noticed that the world seemed awfully tilted.

I moved a few steps to my right toward the empty side of the wagon -- and all of a sudden, the world was on an even keel again.

"Hmmmm," I said.

I stepped to the other side of the hay wagon again (which is where all of the hay was piled; I had unloaded one side of the wagon and the weight was resting on the other side) -- and again, the world was tilted.

Then it hit me.

The wagon was in the process of tipping over!

"Hey!" I said to Randy. "Come out here and see this!"

"What?" he asked, standing in the barn door.

"Look at this," I said.

I stepped to other side of the hay wagon -- and again the wagon started tilting toward the weight. In a second or two, the weight of the hay would take over, and then the whole wagon would flip off the axle.

"Come back!" Randy said. "Come back! Don't do that!"

I stepped to the empty side of the wagon again and then climbed off. I knelt down and looked at the axle.

"Guess what?" I said. "There's nothing attaching the wagon to the axle."

"Nothing?" Randy said.

"Nope," I said. "It's just sitting on the axle, all by itself."

Randy came out of the barn, walked to the wagon and sat down on the empty side.

"I'm staying right here until you move some of that hay over to this side," he said.

"What," I said. "Do you mean to tell me you don't want your wife to go over with half a load of hay?"

"No," Randy said. "And this is *not* funny."

Actually, he was right. It wasn't funny. A person could get seriously injured flipping over with a half a load of hay and a wagon.

I moved some of the bales to the empty side, and then the wagon was more stable.

When we were finished unloading, Randy crawled underneath the wagon with a few pieces of the braided twine string that's hanging in the barn. Every once in a while, I will take three strands of used baler twine and will braid it together and then hang it up in the barn with the other braids. You never know when you might need something to tie something (like a gate or a horse or a dog) and the braided twine string comes in handy.

Randy tied the wagon to the axle with the braided twine string -- and then the wagon was much more stable.

"I'm going to take the wagon back with the truck," Randy said.

"Tell my big brother that he almost lost his baby sister," I said.

I have pretty much resigned myself to the idea that as far as my big brother is concerned, I am always going to be his *baby sister* -- even if I live to be 70 and he's 91.

"Come with me and tell him yourself," Randy said.

So I did.

"You almost lost your baby sister, you know," I said when I walked into the farmhouse.

"Oh?" Ingman said. "What happened?"

I told him about the wagon -- and that Randy had tied it to the axle with braided twine string.

"Well," he said, "I'm awfully glad the wagon didn't tip over."

Me, too.

It's one thing to like riding on the Tilt-A-Whirl when you're a kid -- and quite another to find yourself in a real-life Tilt-A-Whirl situation!

LeAnn R. Ralph