After rotavating the field we're planning to reseed didn't break up the soil enough, Dad bought a 40-year-old plough from his cousin and ploughed the field instead. Our ground, being so close to the mountains, is incredibly rocky, so this was a challenge. The vintage machinery (I'm not saying anything about Dad...) handled the ground surprisingly well.
Reach the end of the furrow, and you have to drive across the field to start again. No fancy reversible ploughs here.
Teddy inspected Dad's work.
He found the furrow to be very snug.
Nice work inspecting the field, Teddy. That's a very cute picture!
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