"He really must want to make sure I see him," I thought. "Do I know him?"

And then I saw it. It wasn't a real wave after all -- it was a "one-finger wave" and it wasn't the finger you use when you exclaim your team is "number one."

No, I had just been given the "California Howdy" as they say in the Beverly Hillbillies movie.

Oh, I was driving slowly -- about 17 miles an hour as a matter of fact. I, like many others this time of year, was moving a tractor and implement down the highway.

Now, obviously since this man was two miles in front of me by the time I realized he wasn't friendly at all, I couldn't do anything about his gesture. Nor, actually would I.

But instead when this happens - and it does more than you would think, I always wish I could say, "Can't we just all get along?"

Now I realize that the driver is probably late to work or an appointment, or maybe just having a bad day.

And I, too, used to hate to get behind a slow moving vehicle. It seemed like the least they could do was get out of the way. But now that I am on the other side of the steering wheel I know it's not that easy.

A big tractor and implement are not that easy to move down the road safely and that is always my biggest concern. I used to try to turn in a driveway or gravel road to get out of way when I had a long "parade" behind me. Then every time I did, undoubtedly it was the exact driveway or gravel road the car behind me needed to turn into and then I was more in the way.

When I can, I get over. But if you look, often the shoulder is narrow and is in very bad shape. And even though my "friend" may be late, I don't want to tumble off the roadway with a tractor and implement. It has happened and it has been tragic.

I've led my share of "parades" through town, as I call it. It usually happens when the first person won't pass, even though they have had many chances. Then the line gets longer and longer and I end up the leader of a not so planned, not so festive "parade."

And I've gotten my share of, uhh, not so polite waves. (Even once from a little 80-year-old looking church lady -- shame on her!) It hurts my feelings and I usually cry, but that's beside the point.

The truth is moving a tractor or pulling an anhydrous wagon or anything slow down the highway is a dreaded job. I hate it when I have to do it and I hate when my sons and husband have to do it. But in our line of work, it is a necessary evil.

The truth is I would love to be able to make a living off the land right behind our house and not have to drive on the highway. You don't know how much I wish that could happen.

But unfortunately we live in America and these days at most jobs people are expected to do more and more, often one person does a job that just a few years ago was done by two or three people. (That may be why "California Howdy" guy is so cranky.)

Companies have gotten bigger and bigger, and are consolidating jobs for "maximum" efficiency. It is no different in farming. Companies we deal with have merged and merged and merged, getting bigger and bigger. Is it any wonder we, as farmers, have had to do the same?

So I got to thinking, if I could talk to my "friend" we could make a deal to maybe, just maybe, be nice to each other. I'll get out of his way the second I have a chance.

Believe me, I don't want to slow him or anyone else down. And I do want to get to my field and get to work. (And I'll only be going only 6 miles an hour then!)

And if that logic doesn't work, then maybe he could think about it as helping out our county.

You see, if I am traveling through town on my tractor and a long line gets behind me, then perhaps, as they pass a our local businesses going 15 miles an hour some of the drivers or passengers will realize they're hungry or need gas! And they'll pull off the road, right here in Saline County.

Then we can call it "Agri-tourism."