NextBackWhilst DWP enjoyed the luxury of perished blow up tyres, old ‘Spade Lugs’ was permanently shod on rusty steel wheels, and used solely for ploughing. An older model, it had seen a lot of use. It was safe sitting on the wide green mudguard, smelling the freshly turned earth as Henry ploughed deftly backwards and forwards across the field at the pace of a wounded snail, the governors opening up as we pulled up the banks. Fresh slices of earth slid from the polished shares whilst worms, cut into two pieces, wriggled relentlessly as each separated half looked for the other in desperation. More often than not, I was allowed to pull the string to lift the plough out of the ground at headlands. After a hard days work in the field, we returned to the overgrown rick-yard. Coming to an abrupt halt, the fuel was turned off and spade lugs eventually choked to death, as neat fresh air filled the combustion chambers. She sat there noisily cracking and banging as the red hot manifold returned to its familiar rusty hue. The freshly squashed nettles and brambles that we had so unceremoniously run over, slowly but imperceptibly unfolded up to the gathering dusk. Four o’clock had arrived and it was time to fetch the cows down for milking. Another two hours of smelly, mooing toil, and then the end of another long day. The slow trudge up the lane seemed to go on forever, as one tired Wellington squelched in front of the other.
The term 'paraffin burner' was very apt as the tank held around twenty five gallons of fuel, and required filling every day. I believe farmers were paid a subsidy that got progressively bigger the more paraffin that was consumed (or sold on the side!) Tractor engine oil was never changed in those days, it was just constantly topped up until eventually it resembled the consistency of thick treacle, much of it adhering down the outside of the voluminous gearbox.
