Thoughts on Driving when I was Ten

I lived on a hobby farm from when I was eight till I was thirteen. We had thirteen acres in Happy Valley on Vancouver Island. It was between Cumberland and Royston in the Courtney area. My dad had grown up on this farm and that was how we ended up there. Now I had four siblings, but I was the oldest. On a farm, from what I can gather, that makes you the right hand woman when it comes to work. So this is why I needed to learn to drive. I was ten and my dad needed me to drive the truck because he was transporting horse 'crap' (I will refrain from using the appropriate farm terminology for those who have not grown up on farms and therefore may be unnecessarily offended ~ although my dad never used the appropriate farm terminology and I distinctly remember the first time I said the word crap in front of him. I almost crapped my self from fear at the slip of my tongue...and he laughed. As an adult now looking back I smile to think of how little I know about bad language. My granny would swear in front of me and say, 'Excuse my French.' Well I thought it really was French. I am so off topic now) from the farm next door to our fields for the soil. He thought if I could drive everything would be faster. He was shoveling the 'manure' by hand and I think the thought that just sitting for those precious seconds, while his totally capable and mature ten year old backed the old 1984 Toyota five speed stick shift, across a bridge he had built, over the creek, and to our field, would give him the breather he needed. This is sort of how I remember the old truck looking, but with with wheels, and no canopy, and I think it had some white on it..So not like this at all except the rust and the blue...but anyway you get the drift. Sorry the picture is so massive. I am really not computer literate at all. The fact that there are pictures in this post is a miracle believe me.

 

 However, my dad decided I needed to learn to drive. When I was ten I was probably about as tall as I am now...maybe just a bit shorter. So I was probably about five feet tall. I remember it was a stretch to reach the pedals. I remember my dad, who is not the most patient of men, actually had the patience of a saint in this situation. He taught me out in one of our fields. He would start it in first and I would get going and get up to second. I think I remember going fifty kilometers per hour and feeling like I was flying, but lets be realistic, it was probably only thirty :) I remember my siblings in the back bouncing up and down having the time of their lives. And I could drive! However, my dad's plan of me actually helping him back fired because there was no way I was backing over that bridge. I think I tried it once and it didn't go well. I could just imagine myself backing off it right into the creek and to this day I suck at backing up. I would have wrecked that truck. My dad was a pretty persuasive person but sometimes I put my foot down. So even though I learned to drive it never did my dad any good. However I felt like I had some good bragging rights that I learned to drive a truck when I was ten.
 One day, feeling like I needed to be awesome for a second, I decided to tell my husband about my amazing accomplishment at such a tender age. He gave me the proper accolades, but then decided to casually mention that he (a farm boy who also grew up on a family farm) had learned to drive when he was seven. What! SEVEN????  I'm sorry but how is that even possible? He learned on a 1970 John Deere two wheel drive with a loader and a cab!!!  This is what it looked like below.

 
So imagine a seven year old (in about grade two!!!!) driving this! He told me that in order to shift it he had to get off the seat and stand with both feet on the clutch (because he was so light) and then reach over and shift. Then he'd have to ease off the clutch somehow and use the hand throttle to rev up the motor because he couldn't reach the gas pedal that was on the other side of the tractor!!!!I am not totally sure what his dad was thinking when he taught my husband all these techniques. I mean honestly, if you really think about teaching your seven year old to get off the seat, stand on the clutch etc....!!!! I'll stop before I say too much. However my husband was tettering and picking up hay bales when he was seven. Well la de da!!!! Never mind then! My driving when I was ten was peanuts. All I did was burn around bumpy fields and really accomplish nothing. Rain on my parade.
Well the story finishes up with us living on a farm together with three children. Our oldest was eight at the time. Every morning she would head out with her dad and help him mix up the feed and milk the cows.This is not because we encouraged child labor but because she is a freakishly early riser and so instead of trying to bake in the kitchen while I blissfully slept unaware of the massive disaster she was creating (because this is what she would do), we decided she could head outside in the mornings and everyone would be better for it. So, being the former farm boy he was, my husband decided to teach her how to use the Bob Cat (skid steer). So when our daughter was eight she was using a Bob Cat to pick up round bales (with something that had massive prongs on it), she then opened them and hoisted them up, put them in the mixer, and then she could also do whatever else needed to be done with the bucket. Here is a skid steer.  It's a little tamer then a 1984 Toyota truck or a 1970 John Deere tractor right? And eight is right in the middle of seven and ten. So it was about the right time. She rocked it and made it look like a piece of cake.



We were both so proud of her and the only reason she didn't drive the tractors was because there was just no way she could reach the pedals :) I am thankful for this. I couldn't have handled that.
I don't think she realizes now that its not everyone who can just hop in a Bob Cat at the age of eight and know exactly how to use it. We dont live on the farm anymore and so some of those memories have faded. However when she is a mom I hope she'll remember and brag to her littles about being able to drive when she was eight. Growing up on a farm means different things to different people. For my husband and I and our daughter it meant our father's believed that we could do something a lot of people don't do until they are the tender age of sixteen (here in BC anyway). I think it also means our mothers had to turn a bit of a blind eye...just maybe...but I love the fact that because our dad's believed in us, and therefore spent the time teaching us ~ we could. I need to try to remember that. It is interesting how now that I live in town my expectations of my children and their capabilities have shifted. However I got a little reminder of the good ol farm days a couple days ago when my oldest, who is turning eleven this year, cooly informed me she could change the broken door knob on the bathroom door if I wanted her to. I tried not to act surprised and told her that would be great. So she grabbed the tool kit, got out the screw driver needed, and went to work. The new door knob didn't totally fit so she just adjusted some things and used a couple parts from the old door knob and I was amazed. This is all because her dad had the time on the farm to take her alongside every time he was fixing something or doing something. In doing this it imparted to her the confidence to problem solve and use tools. Living in town changes that so much. However, I had forgotten! Forgotten that I could drive when I was ten, my husband could milk fourty head of cow alone when he was thirteen, oh yes, and DRIVE A TRACTOR WHEN HE WAS SEVEN...I mean why seven? How was that any different from five for heavens sakes? Once again...what was his dad thinking!!!Anyway, I had forgotten that my oldest could put together a mix for eighty cows at the age of eight.
I want to remember that we are able to accomplish much when people believe in us and take the time to teach us. This still rings true when we are adults but sometimes I think because we have lost that innocent trust we had as children. We don't venture out as often or feel we are as capable as we are. Anyway it was a good reminder to me. I need to change up some things over here and believe a little harder in myself and in my children :) Sometimes its good to look back and remember all we have done and how far we have come.