Being a farmer’s daughter and a lawyer sometimes creates amusing circumstances.
Dad overheard me telling mom that I was travelling the next day to one of our law firm’s satellite offices to meet with a client. It just so happens that our office is conveniently located by the nearest Caterpillar dealerships. It also just so happens that dad was in the market for a new bulldozer key that could only be purchased at said dealership.
You can see where this is going.
I started my day in my office writing a motion and supporting brief. I checked the online docket of a case for an update. I called a couple clients to discuss their cases. Then I made the 40 minute drive down to the Caterpillar dealership before heading to our other office to meet with a client.
Imagine the amusement of the parts guy when I showed up in my suit and heels to request a bulldozer key (turns out the “key” was actually some type of battery shutoff). He kept his chuckles to a minimum, but even I have to admit it was funny. (He asked: “You mean for a bulldozer you own??”)
Secretly (or not so secretly), I enjoy when my two worlds collide. I’m an attorney and I practice law on a full time basis. I have cases. I have clients. I have hearings. I have meetings. I write motions. I file briefs.
I’m also and always a farmer’s daughter. I might not be as active on the farm as I was growing up, but I still participate in a supporting role. During busy times I make and deliver dinner to the fields. I keep up the household chores. I’ve made a run for parts. I help move equipment from one field to another.
I also make special trips to the Caterpillar dealer to purchase new bulldozer keys.
Once a farmer’s daughter, always a farmer’s daughter.
I love this story! ? I wonder how many daughters feel a part of their father’s vocation, even when they have their own? My Dad was a grocer 65 years ago, and I have a love for the grocery business, from the corner store to the supermarket!
This happens to me too!
My most embarrassing story so far: I tried on bridesmaid dresses with new cowboy boots. When dashing out of the house, I had on jean shorts and flipflops like a normal person. It was hot outside. Naturally, my feet wouldn’t come out of the boots at the dress shop. No big deal, right? I was just headed home…except when exiting town, I got the farm call to stop at the tractor dealership for a baler part. In my daisyduke shorts + new boots. I’m still cringing four years later.