Me & My Massey

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In 2002 my Dad bought me a Massey Ferguson 135, a little red iconic farm tractor. I have owned it for nearly 20 years, it is older than me, probably produced in 1964. It is an aspect of my life that has brought me both pleasure and pain. It eases the hard labour of farm life; enabling you to tow a variety of implements for all sorts of jobs, from harrowing to rolling. It will lift, push and drag otherwise immovable objects, with a loader in place, but it has tested my patience to the limit.

 

It has covered me from head to foot in oil, spurting from the hydraulics, yet if, and when, it won’t start I am lost without it. It has cost me more than was paid for it, but it is now worth twice as much as it was twenty years ago!

 

I have (accidentally) knocked down walls with it, I have slid on ice on it, I nearly turned it on it's side, when the trailer I was towing flipped over! It has no cab to protect you from wind or rain and I have driven it round fields in searing heat to top the fields. Many have told me it should have a home of its own, a roof to cover it, but it has lived out in all weathers, kept warm with an old horse blanket. It's a wonder it starts on a cold day, but it often does! I suppose I haven't looked after it that well.

 

Lichens and spiders have found homes in its crevices. It's had so many parts replaced it should be good as new. It's lost a few items on its way, it currently only has one headlamp and just a black bin liner over a piece of sponge for a seat. It has an abstract beauty as it ages. It is now home to all manor of plant material, eighteen years without tender loving care has left it in slightly less than show condition, but it has character and my dogs love chasing along beside it.