(Not) A Combine Harvester

One of the earliest memories I have is of being taken to see Father Christmas. The anxiety of having to go and sit on Father Christmas's knee - one's first actual celebrity encounter - was outweighed by the fact that he could give you any present you asked for. With hindsight, this was a reckless promise to make to small children but maybe in those far off days - this would have been nearly fifty years ago - there was just far less that a child might choose. 

Unfortunately for Father Christmas, what I really wanted, inexplicably, was a rag and bone cart. I can remember the rag and bone man coming along Eton Avenue - did they really collect bones? - but I cannot for the life of me remember why I wanted a cart (and horse, obvs). To his credit, I do think the big man - or, more likely, one of his elves - managed to produce a horse and cart, which, now I come to think about it, was pretty impressive, but I was disappointed. 

The other vehicular item I really wanted around this time was a combine harvester. I'm not sure where this desire came from - certainly not from seeing one drive down Eton Avenue - but I do remember that this longing was, at some point, satisfied. For years it lived in my box of cars and I can still remember its fire engine red paintwork and yellow, plastic blades. What I can't remember is just how it fitted into any of my action packed car games.*

I thought of all this, this morning, as I drove down into Natland and passed this fellow in the field opposite the farm, just below the railway bridge. I've no idea what it is, mind you, but the red and yellow colours reminded me of my combine harvester.

*Quick! Get the rag and bone cart. We need to get to the combine harvester as soon as possible; there's some hay needs baling!

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Reading: 'The Underground Railroad'