Musings about Irrigation

I love the memory of putting on too big of boots and trying to walk along the top of a field to irrigate with my Dad and barely being able to make it over the furrows until dad would take my hand and then I could step over the furrows quite easily.

It always makes me think that if we take our Heavenly Father's hand or our Savior's we can do so much more than when we try to do it by ourselves.

Remembering tubes...there are different sizes from 1/2 inch on up to 3" tubes (from what I can remember) I remember pumping and pumping them to get the water in them enough to start them, I remember Dad getting me a ball that would fit in the 3" tubes so that I could fill them and pull them to start them. His hands were so big to me because he could do the 3" inchers without any pump or help. I remember when I started it took so many tries to get them to go. I didn't understand the ?physics of what I was doing but I understood the example.

Irrigation is just one area that when I think about it my Dad was a genious. The mathamatics involved with ... a certain amount of running water dammed up and a certain amount of tubes set to run. Too many tubes set and some would dry up as the water goes too low, or too few tubes set and the water is wasted flowing over the dam or floods out. Experience helps but it amazed me.

I use to be amazed at how clean and fresh the water looked when it came out of a little tube, and yet the water looked so dirty in the ditch, and quite filthy in the canal that it came from ... I found I was always thirsty after setting tubes. My analogy for this memory is the little part or time that we see people at church when they look so clean and fresh a better than me, reminds me that it is true that I should not compare myself to that little view. Not that people are filthy but everyone has problems, everyone has struggles .

I loved helping by my going across the bottom of the field holding up flags to tell my dad what rows have water clear to the end and what rows were only half way done or needed more time. Having straight rows sure was a blessing...we would line up so that we were looking at the same row, and he would either leave the tube, tip it to flow more water, or pick it up and move on.

I loved going with my Dad, I guess I was a Daddy's girl .. I remember one morning I was going to go with him irrigating but when I woke up I heard him leaving....I quickly dressed and went out to wait for him. He then drove past the house coming from the west and went right on by to the east...I thought he had forgotten me...so I off running up the road past grandma's house at least a quarter of a mile to catch him then sat down on a bale of straw crying ... luckily he saw me on his return trip and said he was just taking care of early things before waking me up. Yeah! I still got to help.