In the corner is a old garden hoe. The stories it could recall if it could talk. It is long since retired from use. The well polished handle outlasted many metal heads and was used by four generations to execute unwanted weeds from the fields. It was the weapon of choice for our family and for years my mom owned the first rights. When she was not present and that was rare, I would grasp the opportunity to use it and feel the smoothness of the handle in my then well calloused hands. Armed, I learned and refined a work ethic that formed who I am today. So many lessons learned while putting it to use.
Doing poor quality work will be self evident soon and it is more than twice as hard to do it again.
You have the choice to make any job miserable or take on the challenge to make a miserable job fun.
400 rows 2 at a time in the beginning seems insurmountable, but when conquered, it feels amazing!
There are a chosen few that can out run a bumble bee.
No one has to tell you if you did a good job or a bad job because you know.
Always set your goal to be the best in your field. And if you are not learn from those that are better and make them work hard to stay ahead of you.
Quitting early only leaves more work for later. ( so that Dairy Stripe Malt that is calling your name at 10:30AM still tastes great at 5:30PM. )
There is a huge difference between cannot and will not. And sometimes a fine line between doing it and crazy.
Accomplishing what others do not even attempt delivers great pride.
Losing is not failing. Not trying is failing.
Getting from point A to point B is rarely a straight line.
A well sharpened tool makes the job much easier.
Can’t is not a word it is a feeling. But shouldn’t is a word to be considered on occasion.
When a better tool becomes available there is no shame in retiring the one that has served you well. (ROUNDUP comes to mind)
Your Dad’s voice in the back of your brain drives you nuts at 30 and makes you smile to yourself at 55.
That hoe (more the ones that taught me first to use it) molded (or warped ) my character. I still feel good looking back over the accomplishments of a good day’s work.
This was written and used with permission by Clarke Fessler, son of Janet Fessler and the late Gerald Fessler.