A little over a year ago, Dave bought his first pivot. I may or may not have made the event the subject of this column. I couldn’t help myself. The whole process was such a drama, such an undertaking, such a revolution for our little gravity-irrigated farm, that I couldn’t not write about it. Dave had begun dreaming of that pivot at least 20 years ago. He had plans drawn up around 10 years ago. He started showing me numbers and being really nice to me five years ago. Overall, our pivot had the gestational period of a glacier, and when it was finally born, it was as if the earth shook. I didn’t know if we would ever be able to do something like that ever again.
Imagine my shock, then, when last fall I discovered that we were due to deliver another pivot. I hadn’t even known we were expecting. To be fair, Dave wasn’t buying a whole pivot. He was sharing one with his brother, so we were only buying half-a-pivot – a bargain if ever there was one. Still, the news hit me a little crossways, sort of like a brick to the side of the head.
Our initial conversation on the topic went something like this:
“So, John is thinking he can get the funding for a pivot.”
“John’s getting a new pivot?”
“Yeah, on the Tolman place.”
“Wow, that’s great.”
In that lengthy conversation, I’m not sure how I missed the clear indication that half the incoming pivot was going to be ours. I maybe should’ve noticed that Dave was helping John with this new pivot way more than he had with the pivots in John’s past. They are brothers, though, always working on this, that and the other thing, and I’m not exactly known for my observational skills. It’s one of my qualities David loves best. So, I absolutely missed every warning sign, every red flag and every message from heaven indicating that my financial security was again in peril. I was as unsuspecting as a baby when a few months later, David said, “Well, this weekend, I’m thinking about taking out the trees along the crick to make way for the pivot.”
Trees? I wasn’t aware there were trees on the Tolman place. “Uhh, Dave. Where exactly is this pivot?”
“We have to get it done before they can dig the trench.”
An uncomfortable dawning began to light up my suspicion receptors. “Tell me again. Where is the pivot going, what trees are we taking out, and why are you doing all this for John?”
Dave launched into an enthusiastic and detailed explanation of the wonders of the much-larger-than-I-thought-it was-going-to-be pivot, all of which I wish I had known at the outset. Finally, I interrupted him.
“Dave, who is paying for this pivot?”
I should’ve known. I should’ve seen from a mile away how this would go, because things on the farm have always gone this way. The first new tractor Dave and John bought together was also a major event. For months, Dave and I talked about nothing but tractors and financing and payments; we forecast our needs and prophesied potential returns; I wrung my hands and spelled out my worries until we’d whittled the whole topic down to a nub. Finally, we felt confident enough to hit the go button, and it was game on. When the tractor was delivered, it seemed to me as if it would also deliver every hope and dream the Coleman men had ever had. In fact, I didn’t know if we’d ever be able to do anything like it ever again.
Turns out, there was a next tractor, and if I’d expected it to go through the same gauntlet of review as the first one, I would’ve been disappointed. As it was, I didn’t get the chance to expect a single thing. Tractor No. 2 was signed, sealed and delivered before I even knew the brothers were wanting another one. Once the first tractor is bought, I guess, buying more is “just what we do around here.” Another day, another tractor, same old, same old. I found out about tractor No. 2 when I tried to balance the bank statement. Dave assured me, though, that it was used – so, again, another bargain.
Of course, anything that can be said about pivots and tractors can also be said about cattle. In fact, I probably don’t need to say another word on the subject – though, of course, I will. The first bull we bought to contribute to the family operation was the bull to end all bulls, the final-final answer to all our bull needs. Until the next auction, that is, when Dave bought two more. When the kids started showing 4-H cattle, the first fans, blowers and all the fru-fra seemed painfully expensive. I was assured it’d last us for many, many years. And it has, along with all the other fans, blowers, halters, and fru-fra that have rolled into the barn with the ease of a very bad habit.
How do I prevent spending money from becoming normalized? I know we have to spend it, but I’d like the process to remain as painful as making it seems to be. Dave says, “That’s because you don’t know the difference between an expense and an investment.” Maybe not, but I seem to be plenty acquainted with depreciating assets. And I’m afraid that’s what Dave and I are both becoming, depreciating assets. Now that he has a pivot and I have a pivot, maybe it’s finally time to burn the checkbook, melt the credit cards and delete all of his contacts. That’s what I’d call a pivotal event.
