I’m An Old Iron Widow

By Staff

419 South Illinois, Conrad, Montana 59425

I wrote this poem about five years ago while my husband was
working on the restoration of a 1930 Case L tractor. I am sure many
wives can relate to the ‘old iron bug’ that seems to take
over a husband’s mind as soon as he hears the first
‘pop’ of a flywheel engine. My husband has been a
subscriber to GEM for years and looks forward to future issues.

‘Oh, she’s a good ole’ gal,’ he says, his eyes
lit up with pride.
‘A real beauty, ain’t she?’ he asks. His smile is
three feet wide.

I think he’s talking about me his wife and I almost start to
blush
Until I realize that the ‘She’ he means is a pile of iron
and rust!

Yes, my husband has the ‘old iron’ bug and I fear he
will never be cured.
Since he started this hobby of his, oh, the things I have had to
endure!

Driving with him is a risky matter when he’s in
‘engine-finding’ mode.
He looks behind every tree for treasures and forgets to watch the
road!

When restoring an old tractor he spends long hours in the
shop.
Building, grinding, tuning, painting it never seems to stop!

So I keep his meals warm for him and remind him to stop and
eat.
He lets me see the progress he’s made the tractor now has a
seat!

When the project is finally done, revealed in all its
splendor,
A fully restored old tractor, from the radiator to the
fenders,

My husband smiles at me and says, ‘Now I can take a
break
Let’s take a drive in the country maybe go to the
lake.’

As we drive along the road I think now I have my husband
back.
But wait what’s this he’s spied half hidden behind a
shack?

He slams on the brakes, (we almost hit a tree!)
He runs over to the shack and I hear him yell,
‘Whoopee!’

For there sits a pile of iron and rust just waiting for him to
mend.
Looks like he’s found himself a new treasure

HERE WE GO AGAIN!!!

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