When Harley Jacobsen came into Doc’s office the other day for his physical it was a treat for Doc. Harley is one of Doc’s favorite people. Harley is a farmer. A 24/7 farmer. Ol’ Harley can make hair grow on a bald head and wheat grow on rocks.
When he’d been thumped and bumped and listened to and pumped up and partially drained, Harley asked Doc for the verdict.
“Not bad at all for someone your age, Harley,” Doc said, grinning. “But you look tired. Take some time off and go fishing or take Gladys to the beach.”
“Can’t right now, Doc,” Harley said. “Planting.”
“Well, how about later on?”
“There’s plowing summer fallow, you know, then harvest, and the trees will have to be pruned before winter, and then the winter wheat will go in. Have to overhaul the wheel tractor this winter and by then it’ll be time to plant again.”
“Harley, you need two weeks with nothing to do. Get someone to help with the farm and go do something fun.”
“I just can’t do it in two weeks, Doc,” Harley said. “Took 60 years of farming to get this tired.”
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