I Censored This

That’s right, I censored this journal entry. I wrote it, read it. edited it, and reread it. Found it so depressing it depressed me. So, instead I’m going to write down this day’s happier thoughts and doings. Take for instance my doing my chores. The ladies of course were all happy to see me and welcome me into their pasture. It was like they expected me. There was even some hands on contact between some of us. Why they even managed to make me feel warm allover. Their meal set before them the rim of the dinner table bellied in front of each and every one, not wanting to hang around, so to speak, I wiggled my way through the multitudes sorely and sadly leaving all their warmth behind.
Getting in just ahead of Susan‘s visit, she had finally made it to our house for the belatedly gift exchanging part of the holiday season. Coming here she personally delivered her homemade soft fudge, and remembering me, I was the recipient the tripled batch toothless/gum smushing chocolate delight or delights. Three batches full before she’d gotten the forth one right??? The gift given Susan, by my keen suspicion was a re-gifted set of bed sheets (sniff, tear filled eyes). These I’d given my bride for Christmas. I’m sorry I’d asked how she had liked them, and she told me they were a cold gift. Humph! Diamonds are colder.
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Experiencing some bouts of discomfort between the ears I wrote some today of things other than journal related entries in my extra private memoirs. Plus, did some research cross the net about farm crops, machinery parts, and _____________.*
For afternoon activities I napped preparing myself for tonight’s fun filled frolicking bringing in the new year. Both of us will likely be in bed and asleep before nine. This will be so much easier than having to report it for everyone else having slept through the event also.
Ate supper and got into the dark chocolate soft stuff from Susan for dessert. Nothing on TV I busied myself on the net and my stories. BGKC.
Fernan

*(whenever one of these blanked word spaces shows up, I’d just forgotten the word what I had in my mind I had thought belonged there) (honest injun)

I wish I could say my head ache were also fading, just fading would be alright, be good. Slept good all last night as I have every night. It is rare the night a headache wakes me. Although, with no hope I’d feel better today, my headache was back upon me this morning my only sitting up.
My last (take Only) pain medication is gone evening last. This morning I’m back on the basic as I need it Tylenol. To take my mind off my upper most insistent companion I’ve taken up worrying; whatever will happen to the rural Pakistani poppy economy my forced to go Opiate medication free for awhile. It is so sad when the basic economy of a people must depend on the evils of other peoples sins rather than on the production of food stuffs to feed themselves.
While I’m worrying about opiate laced Tylenols just getting off one will I go through a period of drug withdrawal? Will it be an emotional roller coaster ride? Is it possible I may actually walk the walls rather than climbing them? I’ve so many questions I wonder if I’m capable to remain lucid enough to understand the answers when they reveal themselves? Oh, in misery is me!
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From out the door the day’s headache hadn’t gone away. Just as the pain in my lower back-pain follows me every where I go I wonder now if this cussed headache is going to on ahead of me all the last of my days. For something different to do with myself today I found myself reaching into a chest or back pocket a couple three times realizing I was going for anything. I was just doing it.
Frieda harped at me until I had given and called U of M Hospital. Got bit of a run-around. Their saying they’d start my paper work, today a she tells me its up to me to start my own paper work. I got the feeling I have to either bug or push until I’m received as being ill or serious. I don’t know? Doc’s closed his practice for the Holidays and I’ll be lucky If I see him back next week. UM demanding he fax all my records. The ones in my hand aren’t good enough. Hey?
If anything happens to me before they get to me, I’m going to go in there standing up dead complaining about there negligence. (grr)
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Two biggies today. While I was still feeling like crap as I stepped out my door, heading right out the drive, I saw Handy needed a ride by all the merchandise he’d made and piled in his driveway for delivery. I stopped we loaded and where on our way. Making his delivery, he collecting his payment for his works, I took him to the drugstore his family’s prescriptions.
Getting back home having done enough sitting my head felt some better. Had lunch for it were time. Then spent afternoon cutting last of the mulberry into fire box lengthed pieces. Piled the brush and using Cushman brought up what wood I could handle until another day and some splitting. The timing was impeccable, my noggin’s antic were coming a half hour before sundown. Close enough I needed Tylenol. BGKC.
Fernan

I think I'm about even-stevens with dog issues. Don't know how many dogs I've talked an animal control officer out of picking up, just because they're easy. If the dog is that easy, it's likely a good dog useful to the neighborhood watch.
Living in town, whenever one of these dogs ever barked Frieda would look and hands empty would step out on porch. Interesting how with the appearance of any neighborhood adult any threat of possible trouble simply disappeared. [One time hearing a neighbor's dog bark joined by our own dog, Frieda stepped out and saw a couple men in drag get into a car some houses away. She called city police, coming into block with two cars they’d simultaneously blocked that car. They were state or federal cops on stake out and released after Chief Hardy had had a chat with them down at the station.] Viva the good neighborhood dog. I don't know how we'd gotten along without them.
What pisses me off are our city cousins drive by dumping their unfed pets in our country yard. Animal control will gladly pick them up after we’ve tied them. Usually more than one, I just simply Shoot, shovel, and shut up. We’ve had these packs run our calves until the calves had gotten into spiny weeds or brush leaving the poor baby calves blind. This leaves us moving pairs into smaller heavily fenced in areas so mothers may raise their calves. Rather than mess with animal control any more even to their wanting moneys to take them away, my rifle illuminates any indifferent difficulties between us. Such a simpler solution, “Bang-bang” problem’s over.
Again, getting back to where I started we’ve some splendid country dogs. One my neighbors worrying about my dispatching their dog, Bear, there was no way I assured them. I found him a most pleasant help to me, his coming over checking out all the newborns all critters nose to nose each checking the other out. The calves accustomed to Bear (dog) they didn’t take flight of strange dogs. This simple good neighbor act upon Bear’s part has saved us many calves their eye sight. For strange dogs making a singular appearance giving me no trouble I have asked about for them. Let more than one dog show up, these dogs be coming packs they feed on indifference from each other makes trouble, trouble required neutralized with lead poisoning.
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Doing my chores, ½ done the gasser Ollie having given me fits until then, it had quit, run out of gas. Just what I needed. Farm tank empty. So, needing gas I had to run over to the Crossroads and buy a couple cans full. Mean time her Mostess had been preplanning and had prepared for me one of her infamous shopping lists. And she had made sure it was in my pocket. The tractor again running poorly after the last sparkplug replacement I had better get another set plugs off shop wall. Over to the Crossroads in addition gasoline, I also picked up motor oil and ATF fluid. I hadn’t the time to got to a bulk plant. So, after some shopping for the belly I headed back home.
Medically desperate for some answers as to what’s going on inside my head I sat down to the telephone and called UM Hospital. Was promised appointment before day’s out. Day’s done and I’m still out. I’ll tell it like it is. Living on opiates is not a particularly comfortable way to live. The last prescription gone, putting myself on Tylenol crap free
Lunch put away, I chose to drain tractor engine oil, replace the sparkplugs, and refill with new clean oil, first. Time having sprinted away ahead of me there was no catching up my arse to it this day…The sun shinning when I had started work on the Ollie. The air freshened with some 20 / 30 mph breezes. It was feeling like Winter were about to come around the corner and freeze me dry where I stood. The Ollie serviced I kept moving. Had a lot of Ugly loaded down with what not’s to put down in the barn. Oh, the barnyard creek water level down enough I don’t need a raft or know where the rocks were anymore to go down to the barn, or at least not until next time. My one original intentions for today’s self entertainment I was to finish looping into pieces that blown over mulberry tree. Getting late the house needing firewood, labors over finish cupping that evasive mulberry, the Cushman came out for load of firewood loading. It was near enough sundown, my feeling another spiking routine coming on I had to call a 15 minute quits for a Tylenol break after the Cushman had been backed up to the open-gated deck. It were an hour after dark when I had finished the unloading in 50 mph gusting winds. Just thinking about all the lights what are still out from Saturday’s ice and windstorm last this last weekend I wanted back in the house before the lights went if they had the mind. By the time I got it back into the house the wall clock hands were applauding 7:00 PM again. BGKC.
Fernan

Weren’t no do daugh day

Braving the elements for the chores I must do…………. I’d found a whole host of problems to continue my right on facing the elements throughout this day. Trying the 951 Ford’s steering it had thawed out. I must be greased it to day to make fix a waterlogged spindle so‘s it don‘t freeze un-movably tight again. Hardest part this fix was my having had to hand pack a grease gun I couldn‘t refill by machine. (growl)
Saving the best for next to last (if I should happen to have time left over) I have to cut up an ill tempered mulberry tree up and off a barnyard fence it had been disrespectfully fallen on when I wasn’t looking. Then doing it before our winds. Now, getting my chainsaw back; I hopes, that’s two hopes, one each, I got’s gas and oil.
Lunch: Beef pot pie with extra butter beans along side nicely filled me to the gunnels with the energy I’d need waste that tree. Down to the barn I found the fuel mix and bar oil I had worried about earlier. Whew! The truck loaded I headed out. On the tree site I couldn’t start saw. Three consecutive failures, my arm giving out, I needed assistance. Seing Handy with my troubles, he managed to start the little saw for me neither one of us knowing how to choke it until after the saw was running. Letting saw run for a few to warm up it was saw more then readily eager to be little that troublesome tree just for the heck of it for me.
Quarter of sundown, what wood the little saw had cut up and the same said tree’s trash it had strewn all over ground, both had more than kept me busy with clean-up after the both of them all the afternoon. I was drawing near on the last my energy knowing any reserves I might have had also proportionally escaped me over the course of the afternoon
cleaning up over the mess the saw both had testid me my strength. Knowing when I’m with the feeling of an advancing
Headache, Ugly and I abandoned the site putting the tools up for the night down in the barn.
Looking back over the afternoon not one intelligible person had stopped by to offer pitching in with a hand nor even to just plain enjoin me in palaver. That is excepting one extraordinarily heavy lady who had come by my work site to check out the lay of the land, so to speak. I knew something might be up when she stared at the downed fence between her and the hay-yard. About then I thought it prudent to approach her. I was of no mind to be bothered discussing priority property rights. I simply wasn’t going let her go think she could go anywhere a place may look open. If this old lady should happen to walk into the hay-yard, it could be counted upon every big lady around my home would be joining together in there.
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Now for something personally scary:
Its common knowledge I’ve been having headaches. Often time I’ve experience mini mull lack outs, mini mull blindness, mini mull absence of mind. Extremely short mini memory lapses.
Joining these personal maladies I’ve taken difficulty speaking knowing what I want to say, only unable to say the words. How about my loss of vocabulary. Add this to the speaking words problem its become humiliatingly __________. Today, working out and about doing something, fixing something, whatever something. I had to have wrench to tighten a packing nut on a grease gun. Therefore I had to go to my high rising floor model set of stacked tool chests. It was stood in the same place for the last 15 years, with all my tools in the same assigned drawers of the same 15 years. Top of chest Socket sets handles, ratchets and drives. Second drawer down top chest, SAE wrenches, bottom drawer top chest, hammers, top drawer second chest measuring device, micrometers, rulers, dividers, feeler gauges, etc.. Bottom drawer bottom chest, drill bits, tap and die sets, other related tools. In other words “a place for everything, everything in its place.” When I walked there, there standing in front of my tool box, I had remembered fine I wanted the wrench, almost something entirely new to my mind lately, with exception this time I didn’t know where I kept my wrench, which drawer, which part of the assembled chests?
I’ve still not been called to be informed my UM hospital appointment. I’m thinking I might better call UM tomorrow. May write all this, what’s been happening, down. These may be signs I’m going nuts or already there, Alzheimer, or just plainly old timer’s disease? Laughs over with………..
Just wondering if any these areas of severest lightening pain strikes might help point to the brain lobe what maybe an influencing clue to an abnormal condition? Plus add the frightening tricks my mind has been playing(?) on me. Do these tricks come from the same brain lobes? BGKC.
Fernan

12-27-o8 Messes

Very little of any consequence accomplished today. The weather playing cruel jokes has warmed and laid on us lots thunder and lightening storm loaded with warm rain. Farmyard, barnyard, eastern pasture, and our road slicker than a turtle waxed billiard ball, walking up right for every long was near hopeless. While I never went down I had white knuckled held onto anything I was near and I didn’t very far away from nothing. Filly’s promise to take us shopping 1:00 PM yesterday, she had finally made it at 3:00 PM today. Not bad timing, both cosmic events happening within the same century. LOL Kids? Went by bank ATM giving me up some spending money. First stop TSC for boots, socks and gloves. I came out with only fitting boots in store, and price up only 50% over year before last. Next stop was the dreaded K-mart store for adjustment upon Frieda’s non-working electronic scale gift.
By gum, surprising myself even, for the first time in eight/ten years I had actually enjoyed shopping in a K-mart store. They must have heard about my displeasure over their attitudes towards my person my last half dozen shopping trips, which were one whale of a long time ago. My first up was the customer relations counter. I was offered a replacement scale for the one in my hand. Taking the store man up on his offer, I was off to pickup the replacement as well as looking for some new (blush) briefs and socks. Getting directions, I checked out the scales first even with a store associate’s help I thought I had a good reimbursement trade going? Down another I isle asked the same associate if he had seen my wife. Hmm. He confessed he couldn’t help me. As close as I was back near consumers service desk I had thought I’d settle the scale issue while I was so close and get that out of the way.
The scale irreplaceable I was given a store credit for the broken one’s return. While my paper work was transpired another working associate approached the store manager with a peculiar tale about receiving a sweater return the store hadn’t seen for two years. He told her to give he customer her money back. Oh, whoa now, If a two year old transaction could get money return, I immediately whipped my twelve year old Northwood’s shirt, hoisting it high enough for a good view suggesting it should have worn better than the last twelve years I'd been wearing it....the same ragged shirt I had removed earlier coming in the store. The poor clerk who’d brought the odd sweater issue to light, the poor thing doubled over in laughter. The store manager cracked up and had to start my paper work all over again. And, while I re-waited the paper work, I talked to a couple behind my seeking an even trade between the imitation tree he'd admitted mistakenly gotten rather the one the wife wanted. Nowhere to go, I invited him hushed into my office for some man to man counseling, for his admitted wrong in front of his Mrs.‘s,, He'd broken the cardinal rule to never admit to nothing!
The Scale issue up to me as to whether I’d keep the replacement at a higher price or not, I wheeled my shopping cart back into the store traffic busily making Holiday gift swapping for what they either really wanted or could actually use. As near as I previously was to the briefs I got a bit of help from a lady associate this time figuring out the differences between (blush on blush) briefs inconsistent size tags. Two packs socks picked up near by I was on my own again, walking the main isle I looked for my wimmin all four ways every intersection, I accidentally on-purpose found myself in bedding. While I was there, I picked out a flannel bed set sheets and pillow cases. From there I was heading for tools and home improvement departments. A shop-vac I been needing for some time. Crapsome vacuums on the shelves I passed on that implement from K-Mart. Somewhere along my way towards the keys of cost's truth I finally spotted my wimmin. Meeting with them I compared shopping cart duplicates suggesting some things what had to go back. While I was picking the returns the two of them were cleverly bamboozling me out-a another half dozen items they insisted we needed, one of them a candle. A candle, what’d we need a candle for? A half dozen more or less of no longer cozily benefiting over the last fifteen years, I didn’t see any luxurious benefit for trying anything better’an just remembering the old days. BGKC.
Fernan
PS: Special Note: Today I had actually enjoyed myself shopping a K-Mart store for a first time in years. I felt an important visitor, a welcomed friend to the store. For so many years these K-Mart attitudes of the clerks had been something like I was dirtying their floor, I was even lucky if I were acknowledged, weren't an important person, they were better than I (sometimes even rude), or I was interfering with their time. Behavior sure has either changed or improved upon?

My Christmas Swag

If others are going to list, show off, and other wise brag over their swags it wont take me long to list all mine: one “Gourmet Dog Food Only” dish, and apply filled with “Scooby snacks.” So, I’m telling everybody now, if you don’t want to get growled at or worse stay away from my dish! (grrr!) It’s mine!
The new Dog in the Dell

What’ll I get next year? A mat, collar and leash?
The bad old Dog in the Dell

Christmas day’s post journal update.
After I had closed down my ‘puter terminal last night a whole number of children’s and grand children’s called their parent’s, grand parents, us. It was a good hearing from the half of them what called. Even if they hadn’t made the trips to see us. For bonus, even heard form one Great Grandchild. Both of us had happily jabbered our hearts out at each other until we had no more jabber to say. Now that ain’t all bad. Best gift we pulled out of the mail box was a picture CD of grandsons. Oh Lawd, how they’ve grown.
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I didn’t get a darned thing done today with the exception of developing a guilty conscience. Somebody passing info along had said somebody’d be here in an hour to drive me to a town. Only that certain somebody didn’t stipulate which hour that’d be. Curses! St least yesterday I had taken two needed accountable naps, without feeling the least bit sorry about it.
Fernan

My Christmas Swag

If others are going to list, show off, and brag over their swags it wont take me long to list mine: one “Gourmet Dog Food Only” dish, apply filled with “Scooby snacks.” So, I’m telling everybody now, if you don’t want to get growled at or worse stay away from it! (grrr!)
The new Dog in the Dell

Speak of Stockings….

Speaking of Stockings hung by the chimney with care. I remember one particular Christmas some years into or marriage, my season’s work had been long and heavy. Might say as a couple things had become to hectic, free time had been to often to short, The romance in our lives had started to wane, that now and then suggestive attention of either one of us upon the other had dropped off. Christmas Eve I had conceived a devilish idear.
My suffering the abuses of un-experienced little pleasures, I had to suggest some of that old spark must be put back into both our lives. Always liking the suggestive approach to these very private sorays preempting the final down and gritty nasties, I sneakily found my way into one off Frieda’s drawers and looked for a single odd element.
Watching the two older veteran children hanging their stocking on the mantle piece with such careful care rechecking them as being just right so they’d surely be noticed and filled, I had to impatiently with hold my wanton turn at the mantle piece until all the children were represented. Holding a younger child in my arm I made a good tidings fuss hanging his stocking beside the others while talking about Santa’s sleepy time visit. And explaining the to old siblings the putting out cookies and milk for Santa. The children’s excitement, these were moments a parent has to be there, so much life and vitality, so late at night before they’re tucked in to recharge their spirits.
Even letting the baby watch I let the children watch daddy hang his stocking amongst the others, as witness’s. There was some discussion, “Daddy’s stocking is bigger?” talk. Mommy had to look.
Yup, a look, and mommy say’s, “I better not find anybody else but myself in that stocking.”
(Ho Ho Ho) Now that just might have been my original intention. Moments later I was telling the “The Night Before Christmas” story. Then it was off to bed for them, all tucked in tight. And at last I had a few moments to relax knowing Santa had his up coming duty to do. And, Mommy? She was most likely busily last minute digging contraband for our the Christmas tree.
About the time I figured the children to be fast asleep, their mother made a visions scantily dressed Santa’s helper diversion entrance. It's a wonder Santa managed to make his rounds. With a finger beside her nose, waggling it sideways, was speaking the waved fingers meaning. “Uh uh! Not until Santa‘s filled all the stocking with care.” Oh what a delectable Santa’s helper she’d made. However did she expect me to do things what needed doing first under such hand’s off working conditions.
If this was one of Santa’s benefiting stops anywhere else I could have been jealous his working conditions, But then the old guy only got out one night a year, it wasn't going to be here.
The curtains drawn, a couple logs thrown on the fire, a couple candles lit, only the Christmas tree lights left burning to see by, the spirit of such an evening had never grown ever so warmly around the collar as that one had. Our retirement shorten, my requiring more than two hours sleep Christmas come morning the children primed were demanding we see what Santa had done. Whatever had been left behind, searching, nothing. Whew! Be it ever so humble there’s nothing like practicing a whole new tradition born before a fire place hearth under a Christmas Tree.
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Rising early this AM just as any self respecting child anxious to see Santa had thought appropriate, I found my stocking empty. Not even a lump of coal for the costs of fuel this day and age. It’d have helped keep us warm.
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I’ve had hand delivered to me from the great North Pole a very personal gift. A "Gourmet Dog Food Only" bowel with a week's supply of Scooby cookie snack's packed in it.
I wonder from where the big guy come up with this gift idea? I've my work cut out for me getting to the bottom this bowl, only I must dig up some old bones from my memory's backyard, weigh all the facts and comment on this development hopefully in no more than a couple/few days from now.
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Chores were easy after a couple cans fueling Ollie gasser. Two bales fresh sudex today. Had breakfast early. After chores daughter come in, had breakfast all over again. Lunch was leftovers. Finished braiding filthy halter lead, put the rest of them in washer then as day moved on, in the drier. Made a couple new halters. Nixed another cord half way though, as a rodent had chewed a third way through it. I poked about E-Net looked into a couple journals new to me. I may go back to one of them, just checking the out come.
I had woke up to what could have been a headache free day? Wrong! One came on me when I just thought about chores. Then I could not remember what meds I had already taken. Between all my other day’s high level exploits I took a couple naps just so‘s the day‘s hours come out even. Second nasty event I unsuccessfully passed the still stinking halters out of the drier by Herr Clink’s nose no less working. She’d caught me again. Insisting they had to be fixed she had finally relented. Sure lucky my good looks helps me convince her my intentions are always true and above board. BGKC.
Fernan

Merry Christmas & a Happy Hanukkah

Merry Christmas and a Happy Hannukah to all those folks looking in on my Shorthorn country. I hope I haven't bored the masses my carrying-ons. So for all those families celebrating the Holidays together, from my home to all of yours may thee all feel refreshed and looking to making the New Year better. May thee all be blessed.
Fernan and Frieda

What’s left the weekend.

Unable to get a ride off the farm, I'l guess neither one of us needs, wants, nor is going to get anything for Christmas. Alternatively though knowing the grand old elf kind-a gives me a warm feeling really. I'm completely relaxed with not having to worry; about any stinking reindeer crap, rolling, falling off the roof's eves on my head; my either the coming and going from the house.
Up early this morning like some good old days (3 day ago). A headache opiate taken I should be on top of the world. Snow and cold having been cold enough outside to freeze a bull's wanton idea, I’ve gotten out of the daily ideas my usually wanting to go. But as I'm the keeper of the animals vitals I must see to the domestic animals needs.
After that I needs take personal medication inventories and make sure via the back-roads we've got enough rattlers to hold us what’s left through this 5 day weekend.
For some honest heavy farm related work I need to practice some marlin-spike fixing and/or making a few halters.
Weather having been so cold I have become lazily accustomed to holding up in the house. Suggested temps are supposedly rising to the mid thirties. These temps could make the snows a bit sticky/slippery/sliding fun for getting out. And then what if it rains, as if yards, drives, and roads aren’t already hazardous already, I remember days like this, for getting rid of kids sent sledding, when it was ideally welcomed for Santa’s elves’ a bit of extra clandestine freedom to last minute time to prepare for the big guy’s traditional midnight visit. All I’m doing this year is a wave at him as he passes our house by my sneakily enjoying the cookies and milk traditionally left out for the big guy. };^D
Frown one retired Elf
Fernan

Today’s honest journal

It was suggested again, I worked to hard yesterday. Could be. Sheesh! I slept in this morning waking three hours later than the norm. And if that weren’t enough I caught a nap this afternoon. And I had a bucket full of halters to fix. If possible?
Now that a rumor suggesting I work to had I want to quell it right now. Why I’m so lazy when I’m facing the most miserable jobs around the farm imaginable. I feel that the quicker I get into any one of them and finish it the sooner the better I’m free, gladly without so much as looking back.
It also goes with yesterday’s supposedly long day. Normally it takes me somewhat less than two hours to grind a week’s grain supply including side trips to pick up supplements and the empty container. Yesterday we could go no faster than we had traction at anytime throughout the day in this snow. You all know that white stuff having fallen all over this farmyard’s ice as snow had made bodily safety an upright issue, or moving any machine or machinery combination near impossible. But then us a Northern folk evidently not knowing anything as how to motor upon these weathered conditions, we tend to take it easy enjoying every hour of these rare days doing it in slow motion. Walk slowly avoiding any sudden unseen ridges what might let a body down hard. Or how about selecting a low gear and applying as little throttle as possible to move a motored vehicle over the weathered terrain without loosing traction or a forward or reverse motion. But what does a Northerner know about driving on ice and snow. I mean, I like the educated tenacity these Southerners display their where-for-know showing us lesser knowledgeable northerners how to spin their wheels quickly drying the road bed ahead of themselves all the way to wherever it is they’re supposedly going. Yup! This is just what I mean. Us Northern fools in snow country are quite possibly in need of some speedy Southern driving in snow instruction.
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You think the last story was slow!
Dang chores were done this AM with one acting up gas Ollie. I figured it was some contaminated fuel iced. I looked for and added some alcohol. Tractor aught to run better tomorrow. From here I was summoned down the road to assist in feeding cattle there. And then for the biggy request, I was asked to load Polaris Ranger with wood. Holy woodpile smokes. Backing the ranger to the woodpile I found buried in the snow between the ranger and the woodpile all manner of roly-poly pieces of scattered cut up firewood sized tree limbs. It was liking trying to stand on marbles, my feet taking turns rolling sideways/ for’n’aft. That was a fun adventure not knowing which way I was about to roll with each piece of dry wood I picked up. There was some kicking in the snow, a wet piece picked up from the ground for every two pieces of the dry off the pile. I got him a load into his garage.
Then I agreed with calling it a day. I needed it for yesterday’s continued personal thawing out.
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Some of what I missed. Stover gone day before yesterday had to open first haylage cell yesterday. Also did a count. First projecting there’s hay’s enough for 108 days. Maybe a better count’ll reveal more. Sure wishing for a closer additional 21 days worth here, but afraid that‘ll never happen without a miracle.
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We could well get anywhere from three to eight inches here through tomorrow, maybe another ten inches Christmas day. Shorthorn country is so prettily wrapped tight in a fluffy white blanket cozily laid all over everything. BGKC.
Fernan

A Live Xmas Tree’s Total Care

So you think you want a live tree in your house this Holiday season. The following is my own uneducated yet learned instruction manual on all the issues for the care and feeding your live Xmas tree from buying to planting.
Fifty years ago my questions on the care and planting was limited to, quote, “Don’t keep your tree in the house for more than four days.”
So, through real life lessons learned I learned by caring for a Xmas tree right and wrong I furnish this honestly country manual. Follow the (numbered) instructions you will have an enjoyed Holiday tree for Christmas and ever more.
(1) So you want a live tree, and while it is still mid-fall park two straw bales on planned planting site. Keep in mind sewer lines, septic tank drain field, and over head power lines.
(2) Number one, know your soil. Dig a hole inspecting thr earth into which you plan to plant the tree. Is it sandy or a deep dark much like soil, clay or in between?
(3) Knowing your soil check your yellow pages or better yet ask around for knowledgeable nurserymen and/or tree farms/plantations. Call as many as required until you find one who’s trees are started/raised in soil similar to your’s. Find one preferably cut or dig your own merchant, for assured freshness.
(4) Ask if burlap and basket’s available, fine. If not a couple yards burlap may be purchase at/in a sewing center. Basket size is relative tree size selected. A basket may be purchased in a garden center.
(5) Ground covered protected from freezing, You have your burlap and basket and need to pick out a tree. I’ve brought larger, but I seriously recommend a growing tree less than four feet (4’) in height. Rule of thumb, the smaller the tree the better chance’s for tree’s survival.
(6) The tree selected, shovel as carefully as possible all the way around the chosen tree. Tree freed, tilt it carefully to wrap and tie tightly the burlap over the soil the roots. This keeps the soil in contact with the roots. Place tree in basket to keep it up right and easier to carry out of the wood lot. It’d be best if tree be transport upright keeping tree roots and soil tightest together, rather than laid on its side. And another thing, your tree is now suffering trauma. The roots exposed even still with roots, those root ends are susceptible to freezing or frost bite. If even kept in garage for a couple days protect those roots with a couple blankets.
(7)(8) For display and a safely kept tree, I handled both matters all in one setup. To give a (presumed) four foot tree height I first set two concrete blocks on a protected floor. On the blocks I’d set a galvanized wash tub. In the tub I placed the basketed roots of the live tree. If it leaned one way or another picking the basket up, placing a shim or thin blocking between the basket and tub to realign the tree’s trunk plumb did the trick. Next I added water to the wash tub. A couple buckets to likely start with so that the roots may drink. The tree after all has been uprooted from it’s Wintry sleep and will be mixed with emotion for a few days as to what season this up rooting is? A four foot tree, ten or twelve inched wash tub on eight inch blocks all added make the tree appear taller than it is, a plus or minus six feet (6‘). A sheet or a fitting tree skirt placed around the heavy elevated stand and tub, the bottom of the festivities tree will appear dressed it to the floor. The tree elevated surely helps puppy dog’s tail stay out of trouble.
(9) Now, How long may the tree be kept indoors. Most nurserymen tell us four days. I’d have to go along with that if it’s an already long time un-watered un-protected dug live tree. We had kept our live trees in the house eight days. Example, Saturday to Saturday, Sunday to Sunday. If properly purchased and watered as here before described.
(10) Taking down the tree is no simple mater. So, you wanted a live tree for Christmas. The planting shall be just as much un as digging it. Now, It’s survival will depend on the next carefully followed instructions. Get help. Some unsuspecting muscled boob who wont know what he’s gotten himself into until to late. Firstly, a hole must be dug in the yard under the afore mentioned and spotted straw bales. a couple inches in radius larger plus about maybe as much as two inches deeper. Secondly, as I had suggest a couple well developed gentlemen will find this next part of the planting experience much cleaner if the washtub and all it contains is carried out as a unit. The tree coming out of a warm house must be planted immediately to avoid freezing, roots and all. It is best the tree be removed from tub and basket before root planting. The burlap bag will root away allowing the roots freedom to grow. When the tree has been successfully positioned push in and with hands or maybe a stick pack the yards dug earth tightly about the balled roots, adding the tub’s water in and about the tree also makes for even easier packing the earth tightly.
NOTE: Do not take tree out of the house to sit in yard, garage, or sit on porch until another day. The tree freshened and season confused can easily freeze dead; roots, trunk and limbs. Again tree must be immediately planted.
(11) The tree planted, HOLD IT, it must be covered to keep it’s trunk and limbs form freezing, Just planting it isn’t near enough protection. The ground around the newly disturbed earth must be protected as well this protection derived by simply burying the whole tree in snow, the more the better. Snow at 32* is neither freezing nor thawing, neither to cold nor to warm. If snow is unavailable use leaves raked off your yard. If by chance the leaves had been hauled away for composting, Straw is a most efficient substitute for covering the tree. Plus a small 5’ x 7’ inexpensive plastic tarp may be used to keep the straw in place and serve as a wind break. Knowing little of what I speak of next, it should not take the tree more than a couple weeks to acclimate itself to the seasonal weather environment all about it.
(12) Finally Remember, you and your tree properly chosen and all parties concerned properly prepared, experiencing a live tree adventure shall long live in your family’s memories for many years to come, plus unbounded happiness for all manner wildlife; feathered friends, furry chipmunks and squirrels who’ll come by now and then some what’ll stay never to go away.
Your quide
Fernan

Snow’s snow job’s

The line of the week:
Her seeing we been getting the white snow stuff, my quoting the Georgia Peach, “The snow is beautiful. I guess if its got to be cold, it might as well be pretty too.”
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A normal less than a two hour grain grinding today took me five hours to complete with Handy’s help, what might have taken my seven hours with out him, and this was with all the principle equipment and other ingredients already here. Planed accomplishments include grain grinding, putting the 554 baler away, and getting me in some more firewood. Simple hey? It might have been if it weren’t for all the bidirectional snow drifts deposited here over night. Biggest problem making it such a long day was the Leland Tractor’s in ability to keep traction for what ever I had asked of it….
The day went something like this. Grain ground, baler put away with 1850 Ollie. Leland uselessly couldn’t negotiate farmyard for lack of traction. Leland was disconnected and barely driven out of way. Same Ollie connected to grinder mixer (GM) for putting GM back into barn. Tractor brought back outside for Winter. Leland put back into barn re-hooked up to GM. Loss of traction was our most time consuming problem all day. It nearly took me a couple hours moving firewood into house. Deadheading Cushman anywhere around the farmyard was near futile. Cushman loaded did fine. Lastly, I tried finding temporary warmth for 951 Ford tractor so’s to thaw front steering assembly out for a water replacement grease job. Spindles actually need new top most seals. There was taking Handy shopping for his helping me. And I warmly found myself back in after nine hours work, an hour past dark.
Hard to believe, wind-chill temperatures below zero all day, my wearing naught but normal summer clothing inside my tux, I still came in sweat soaked sticky clothing. Without the winds we saw yesterday, today was a walk in the park weather day. This was our snow filled fun activities around Shorthorn country today. BGKC.
Fernan

I can't wait for Mel to see this

Snow’s snow job’s
Well Mel! I know you did your best trying to hold back all that winter wonderland weather we‘ve received on our side of the mountains‘. Suspicious something counter productive your brave efforts has been going on, and I went in search of an additional influencing cause.
Ah ha! Traveling west I thought I had spotted an offender. Confronting the individual I spared all small talk’s gossiping and went straight for the truth. “Hey Lady, have you been out to the reservation doing one of the tribe’s bone chilling rain dances?” Oh my Lawd! She blatantly answered my question with an on the scene live demonstration, enlivening the spirits to send even more snow and wind, from the safety of her motor stable’s apron.
While dancing waving her arms and legs in what first looked like wild abandon, she had an interesting generations’ handed down routine. Gathering around her, braves were preparing to turn out in numbers in helpful responses to assist a stuck or stranded motored equipment operator down the road
My on time arrival I headed them off. The road had been cleared by an Ugly apparition thought seen slipping through the day's white out. The she-dancer, her braves, and guest (sniff, my daughter), their combined rescuing adventures were no longer needed. The loopy additional weather making culprit having out done herself sneakily invited the small contingent of public viewer’s (Me) in to her tribe’s common house for coffee and candy. Carefully distracting me what I had seen, she likely thought she had gotten me sweetened enough to either disbelieve or forget. I admit I enjoyed her priceless coffee, but I haven’t forgotten.
My word, what lengths some people go to for blowing snow?

I’m Still Learning

Thanks to TB for the reading assignment. To show you my appreciation, Professor. I’m writing two short-short home work* paragraphs for your unspoken assignment this morning.
(1). “Breeds of Livestock” is a most interesting read. A site I shall bookmark.
(2). Early cattle served a triple-purpose. They provided meat, milk and labor to their owners.
*I’ve written more on this subject in the journal.
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What I find most interesting is how many breeds of cattle were bred, in Great Brittan, that travel and increase there numbers in service around the world. I had surmised and told the kids visiting the farm, from time to time, Treat the animals well as you’re a servant too them; AND, in return they’ll serve you better than you have ever imagined. They’ve given the milk you’ve drank, the butter you spread on your bread. The chess on your Micky-D’s burger. Most importantly they must be treated well for what we take away from them; their meat and sausages to feed us and your brain, leather for your shoes, hooves’ for gelatins and glues.
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Hi Donna:
It’s an originally badged 1850 Cockshutt. Serial number plate missing. Figure dealer chiseled plate and repainted tractor so it’d sell easier (American). Near I can tell, (from similar 1850 gasser) I’m guessing its either a 1964 or 1965. It has 354 Perkins diesel engine, 540/100 rpm PTO, and two speed Over-Under. 34” standard rims and tired drivers. The step’s are a copy the first set I had made for the gasser when I had slipped off that tractor and unknowingly knocked two bone chips off top my left knee tibia.
Brother was in hospital then for several months having gotten caught in forage chopper loosing a leg to it. Myself becoming busier at the time, I had so much to do here, I simply ignored my pain taking care of farm, crops, animals and adding 1000 sq ft handicap friendly addition to his home (90%) by myself. That was also at a time when I had found and enlisted the aid of several volunteers who’d asked nothing in return. I still share a piece of beef with them now’n’then and started granting these guys the exclusive hunting rights over the farm lands. I call them our hunting club ever since then their saving me the best sitting place every opening day. (smiles) This 1850 was new to us after that horrific accident.
Oh, we now have five 1850’s total, supposedly standing ready and available to make my work easier. LOL. last purchase has needed TLC for last two crop seasons. Each one of them, in their turn has been getting mechanically rebuilt. Sleeper’s original price wise, easy economical overnight parts availability make them easy to own and work on. Another year or two they should all be calcified as reliable as new. (smiles) I can’t imagine a better tractor new or old, for a couple handicrappers‘.
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Hi Paula:
Okay, now you’ve done it! This tale starts with the following….
Oh Lawd. I a-woke this AM, in the middle of a most deliciously naughty dream (a man thing), without any physical need synonymous with one of us oldster's bladder needs. I swear every once in awhile you're as evil as my What's Her Name. Now I've got to write it. Humbug! LMHO
Your servant
Obnoxious
……..Now, for the rest of the story.
It has come to pass I don’t necessarily wake up easy. This AM along with my waking dream going together like a horse harnessed to a white winter’s cutter.
My dream so vivid in my mind I opened one eye at a time to see if it were real. The household sounds told me it weren’t real no matter how vivid. Just the same I wasn’t going to tempt fate if I might have part of this morning’s waking wrong.
Opening one eye, everything was an unreal blur. So unreal, it was truth. I had opened the wrong near blind eye first. Just the same it was to good a dream to just let it slip away as if it were an invisible thought about to let have me drift away on any gentle breeze.
What was I dreaming? A very pleasant day of old taking place in house built by two who’d made it a home. At the time, the morning light was teasing the edges of the shade covering the bedroom window just a trying real hard to get in, but it was enough light to bedazzle my eye lived upon that waking day so many tears ago. Before me laid upon a sister pillow a face I marvel looking at for all those first years our growing family. It was a resting face giving me no trouble in that Sunday’s morning’s light. An easy face to look at, and it was beside mine. Lovely to look at her eye lashes lazily laid upon her cheeks. Such piece and quiet, tranquility, and oh so such a temptation I could not leave alone, for as the song had said, “She had kisses sweeter than wine.” I write anymore I've cheated some imaginations. LOL
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Farming today, with the exception of taking care the animals, I took the day off. The grain what didn’t get ground today I haavvveeee to do tomorrow. That about covers my Shorthorn country day unless ya wants an open mouthed picture of me napping? At chance! BGKC.
Fernan

A few Shorthorn country pictures of late

2nd morning's barn cleanen equipment wrapped in white blankets.


Here’s the poop on what comes from barn cleaning.


Yesterday’s new snow looken real fresh in crystaled form, before the sun come up to soften the the common packen look.


Here’s better picture them snow crystals on a wire fence.


One more this morning’s crystalline dressing up this country side in ka-zillions of diamonds laid out before me just for dreaming on.


This kind a day makes a Shorthorn country feller feel like a mighty man rich.
Just some of what I enjoyed seeing last couple days in my Shorthorn country.
Fernan

Fine day for plowing snow.

We’ve more than enough snow for everybody in Michigan to play in; and, we played in ours today.
The little Ford’s steering frozen I couldn’t use it for plowing my snow. This fact had me in Bro’s yard early on. Motive? His skid steer had a snow blowing attachment. I help him get it hooked on, hooked up, after he cleans his drive he could also do mine.
While we were hair drying the varied hydraulic fittings and electrical connections for going together, the county plow truck came racing by and plowed Bro’s mailbox some thirty feet of the road side. So while I fixed it Bro’ blew out my drive. And, before the afternoon was over we’d have one scare and one good laugh.
The scare came when Bro’ saw what he thought was oil tracks on the snow leaking out from under the JCB loader. A near frantic call, it sounded like, I was on the road. (smiles) there were leaks from under the machine alright. Running the JCB most the day, the loader well warmed had been melting snow from off all over the machine, sums of the melted snow’s a-wash down through the engine compartment giving the warmed sides and floors bit a good rinsing spilled out dirty grays dripping water’s. The machine was doing fine.
Later, four drives cleared, Bro’s mailbox ready for re-hanging we joined forces to re-mount the mail box. Doing this a neighbor pulled up along side us, “Fixing the mail box are ya….?” A redundant question if I ever heard one. “….got your mailbox knocked off by a dirty bastard did ya!“ This opening one sided conversation near cracked me up. (ha ha ho ho he he) This neighbor works for the county road commission and likely drove a plow truck all day!-????, my doubting he had gotten this one. He had really stopped to tell Bro’, “Call the road commission and they’d replace the mail box for free.” I was glad when some traffic appeared, relieving my teary eyed laughter. Snow moved, an impromptu smashed mail box repaired, meeting our goals before dark I got home in a timely manner. BGKC.
Fernan

12-19-o8 Snow

By the time I got in at one and a half past dark I believe we’ve had an 11” accumulation of snow these last couple days. See! I told everybody we were going to get a good snow. I never had any doubt.
What barn cleaning I’d started yesterday I let the troops grind newsprint for bedding well after this evening’s fallen dark. Having enough problems with headache and a restless nose running so far out ahead of me I shan’t catch up to it. I’d had enough cold and physical fitness exercise for this day. It was my rattlers and my feeding time. BGKC.
Fernan

What can I tell….

I missed telling this one evening last. Neighbor across street having been gown for an hour and a half yesterday, morning cleaning his mom’s driveway, upon his return missed seeing Ugly in my yard and a pickup load of wood missing in my yard thought (or worried) the two incidents were closely related. His coming right over he was relieved I had merely traded Ugly off for the day’s use of the van. After unloading van six heavily laden boxes of groceries and three bags feminine hygiene supplies, I had to go over and checkout location the wood pile so it’d be easier for backing to time I should need free wood…. Frieda suggested I could one day get shot for that attitude. “Naugh,” I explained, “I don’t know his latest squeeze that well, yet.” Anyway as I had everything brought into the house and heading out she was saying something associating words, one of them “terrible” with me. Wommin?
At my close enough to talk at the neighbor, I suggested, I’ve come over to check out your wood pile so’s I better know where it is next time I bring my own truck over. Him knowing me about cracked up. And seeing the tire tracks I knew who it might well have been who’d taken the pickup load well seasoned wood. His having made a couple phone calls earlier finding out who it wasn’t. I had it narrowed down to who it was. The half toothless perpetrator had a lot of nerve, coming back here, likely thinking he was entitled. I had pulled him out of this yard’s mud a couple years ago twice the same day. He knew of the woodpile and how to avoid the yard’s mud sucking pickup truck trap. (grin) I hope the cops put a good scare into the guy. I don’t think him, a bit timid an individual, that is a serious a danger nor a real bonified criminal. The right words aught to straighten his light hearted larcenist’s act out alright. I’m imagining the perpetrator this hot firewood caper has already sold and delivered the hot load. I’m thinking it might better be suggested he return and restack the firewood. And if he’s got to return the monies collected plus embarrassedly reload the firewood, this punishment should be amply enough. These hours making it all correct ought to give him plenty to think about the next time he entertains such sticky fingered thoughts….. I’m LMAO over this situation.
An overly industrious individual, out of work, likely needing money for drowning and smoking away his unemployment woes.
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Holy smok’ems, I personally heard from youngest son “Sneak”* today. He’s in Mississippi getting there driving a tractored KW 18 wheeler this week. Then I thought he was exaggerating, his telling me he crossed Missouri doing 25 MPH on three inches ice covered roads, he had all to himself. But then, of course, he may not be exaggerating having learned to drive on West Michigan’s snow-belt roads where fresh ice and snow was a common daily Winter occurrence.
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I’ve maybe found the cause of my headaches to be sun-ominous with one of farming’s dirtierly spoken little four lettered words, “WOIK.” Follow my lines my blooming reasoning to see what I mean.
Teasing the tight assed barely fitting Case 1816 into running, I’d have to wear before the day may be over. Leaning heavy upon the (big Leland) Ollie with morning’s electrical service plugged for a motor block warmer’s beginning, I had managed starting it. Going over the side of the manure spreader I made sure all the apron chains and scrapers were free and easy to go. When everything was finally looking good we commenced managing cleaning half the barn. That’s a good piece of woik done this kindly time of year.
AND, then there was the warning label all over the UM medicine bottle, “No driving nor operating machinery while taking this medication.” So, what if two skid steers did meet head-on, mine dropping its bucket, my trying to make the proper correction my over doing it only to loose my load all over the floor. The label medicine label might have been right? My having to pickup and reload my shyit all over again.
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Looking up my medication on the net I found it nothing to exceptionally special. It’s acetaminophen with an additional ride along opiate. My being lied to, only to find I’ve already had this same crap, before, under another one of a thousand names. Sheesh! Isn’t there an honest profession out there somewhere with out an attached swindler to it? BGKC.
Fernan
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*There’s a “Sneak” story what goes along with that nick name. Excuse me. Actually they’re are two stories.

Tempting pain…

Yeah, tempting pain, headache pain I’ve got to mention my seeing along my way to Ann Arbor at least two of the winter covered Golf preserves where in, upon, over which there’s been no recent activity of old duffers chasing after those elusive golf critters. How do I know this? Well recognizing some of those summer frenzied eating areas synonymous with them unseen varmints there was not one flag marking any holes where from what had ever been drawn one of the hard shelled golf eggs those romance old duffers has never managed to break using a whole bag of clubs repeatedly hitting them all over the country side. Unusual for me, I pray for the souls of such unseen, un-depicted golf’s, a safe and healthy hibernation's during these longer winter blasted bone chilling days.
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Today’s the best day I’ve personally had for a couple weeks. Clearer headed I had to motor Frieda to her Arthurtightass Doctor. He was thrilled when I saw Frieda walk in on her own without either riding the wheel chair or on my arm. A couple her prescriptions were theoretically discontinued with a couple written backup scrips for a just in case.
Next we went shopping, well, rather I went shopping and she, and she meaning Frieda, all she wanted was a couple packages of hush puppies available in only one Yankee store. Letting me do the shopping myself again as she’s had before I didn’t get out of that store for no less than $88.00 for two lousy packages of hush puppies,… well…and….maybe a couple pizzas,… a uh four pot pies,… err uh…, and uh a few other things I’d guess. Imagine $88.00 for two hushpuppies and a couple bags cat food.
Then it was one more stop, or so I thought. She wanted to go Meijer’s Thrifty Acres. She wanted a new battery in her self winding watch. Well half that want is correct. I had thought she could use a Omego shopping car. She turned it down taking to walking. After the first round the store, I had to get the Omego car for myself the last two rounds. The crazy woman’s become a dynamo I may not be able to out run????
Then Bro’ had a few chores for me to do to help him out. One thing he needed was cat food. One of my $88.00 shopping bags bag? BGKC.
Fernan

12-16-o8 Question?

“Well....that was quick! They are usually pretty slick on pooling information, fern. Had you ever been there before? What did you think of the place?
loopy lady”
It was easy to get to. Doctor George’s wife had simply instructed me to just follow the white on blue “H” signs. Even the freeway exit initialed the exit and as we got off there were more the signs. I’m thinking we’d driven less than a couple miles city streets following additional information signs and I was in ER. Once I was signed in the machinery of modern medicine moved me right along the hollowed halls and walls of that enormous place. A place of learning and practicing I was impressed at how easily my headache matters mover right along. The bedside manner of all the people I was to come into contact with were absolutely wonderful. They’re treatment was as if I were the most VIP. Quite honestly I felt as if I were surrounded by family, only it’s been a long time since I’ve ever known my family made me feel this cared for, with Her Mostess‘s exception. My headache’s coming and going was just as important to them as it is to me. Best of all they told me they’d like to get to the bottom of my headache just as I was.
Taking all my recent pharmacist and medical records with me impressed everybody I came in contact with. Most importantly the records had in them everything to date what treatments and tests I had been given reports there of. Meanwhile They expect to have me back shortly. I don’t know what’s happening next, but something’s happening. Now if by my mind’s resolve will I last until I’ve a diagnosis one way or another my welfare and survival and hopefully a life’s saving solution.
Additionally, but of less importance, from the expressway thru the community streets we passed what looked like a couple RR station’s museums. I want to go back to Ann Arbor one day purely as a tourist. Ann Arbor looks like a place of history’s makings.
Fernan

12-15-o8 UM Hospital

What a day! I did my chilled nose morning chores. Mounted my Ugly transportation and headed out.
Seeing and asking Doc about a referral to the University Hospital, he immediately thought it a good idea. He suggested maybe once and for perhaps they can find my head aching problem so that it may be addressed. That theoretic idea approved and advanced on Doc had two of his girls swinging into action printing out all my headache records packet to take with me, thus saving time filling request for the anyway later.
Most importantly any mechanically radiation assisted internal examination procedures should be avoided as much as possible particularly duplicate procedures, these invasive radiation examinations may instill cancers I may or may not already have.
Sheesh! Seems there’s more and more something’s interfering with my presents here coming or going or even comfortably hanging on in the meany-time. If it weren’t for a certain young lady who I had promised to take care of over fifty some years ago, I wouldn’t hang onto this painful life.
Hospital ER arrival at 2:00PM, waiting’s were short betweens my introduction either through or into the system. My records packet were the big hit of the day. A first pretty intern seeing me having gone over me physically and mentally left me to confer with a superior physician. A bit later she returned with a second pretty intern, seeing me, my guessing she wanted to confirm all the information the first young lady had gleamed. I couldn’t knock the attention of such pretty young ladies, who‘d next include a lovely registered newly wed nurse of two months. “Humma humm hum yum.”
[Backing up the stethoscope, the first lovely intern was born in Thailand. I had asker if she’d be going back. “Oh no!” she’d said. She’d married a boy born in Chicago. Interestingly, she and her husband knows the Illinois (controversial for sale Obama senate seat scandal) Governor’s son. The second intern sported one of them big Farah Fawcet hair do’s. I could almost have drowned in her blue eyes set inside all that face framing blond hair, (sigh) And my nurse, she was from Michigan’s upper peninsula’s Marquette. I asked her were going back. “Oh no!” she’d said. She didn’t like all that snow. Ohh! The Upper’s loss, is the Lower’s gain.
Michigan has some of the loveliest scenery!]
By and by another one of the hospital’s top dog Emergency Room Doctors came into see me, again hitting upon all the afore mention exams high points and was delighted, looking through them, I had brought my records packet along with me, before he was gone.
Ordered up were eye pressures and what looked like a weakening of my dissolve with the nurse holding my hand while vial after vial of my blood. I’m wondering who’s getting all my red stuff? An ill vampire maybe short on good taste?
I was finally discharged with a another pain numbing prescription. Was told I’d be contacted for an in depth neurologist appointment in a few days. Being 9:00PM and hungry I was gone. Getting home The smelly fish sick supper was at least welcomed filling.
BGKC.
Fernan

We’ve gotten some snotty weather here over night. Daylight coming a visual assessment will tell what we’ve had laid on use. One eerie sign, there’s been no traffic by here.
Laying low I’ve my menacing headache back keeping me company. At least today I was spared the aggravating sound effects of yesterday’s fortified misery’s additions.
I’m doing three things not exactly for them (it), but rather in-spite of them (it). I cut out the new prescriptions. I’ve gone back to my old tried and true taken the sharp edges off medications. And, lastly when it gets to staggering blind painful too stand up to I lie the whole frame down and out.
Latest thought coming to mind, while I still have one, I’m going see if I can’t negotiate a referral to the university hospital, only 75/85 miles away, more or less. I’ve got an idea I’m going to need some strong mojo for this caper’s thought.
Don’t feel like singing or dancing, I’m open to a better offer. Maybe another attempted nap just may pay my sofa’s admission price. BGKC.
Fernan

12-13-o8 Saturday, where’d the weak go.

I can’t believe this work week has come and gone already. Not that I’m allowed that luxury of the weekends off. So many mouths to feed around here. Once thinking it’d be nice to take some of the weekend off, I now find myself trying to catch-up what I didn’t finish during the week last. Seems an aging body can’t win for loosing. (grin)
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Wow, It’s unreal seeing the New England states covered and closed under tons of icy blankets bringing down everything under its weight: trees, all manner of utility high lines. Transportation has to be a snarled mess just trying to transport goods into or or around New England these peoples need daily. People have to be home bound, motor fuels unattainable without power. May they all have a months supply of staples and a means to boil water.
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One of man’s mistakes!
Having been watching the Hallmark Channel of late the holiday season story offerings. Of these year’s last days the programming has been depicting family life of the 15th, 16th, 17th, and the early 18th centuries. It was in those days of old young ladies when introduced to the social side of the worldly life that was through debutant balls and later given away they were locked into it through extravagant weddings, these events of all young lady’s last hurrah.
What followed in the 19th century men gave away to women the once most important manly right to vote. With that carelessly penned giveaway of a logically inherited man’s right men since have been unable to keep their women in the kitchen or laundry room. Thus followed my housemaids knee, chapped hands, washing/drying of laundry, plus hours in front of the kitchen range. Most importantly the place were supposed to keep their wives “….home on the range.”
(te he, te he, te he)(yuk, yuk, yuk)
Just what were my four grandfather’s thinking?
You all will excuse me while I prepare the proper place of safety a more logical cover.
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Religious ramblings
Hey! Don't knock it. While I may be a "Holy Joe" and a doubter I may still enjoy the children's church programs. The scriptures (whatever's said) still contain so many fine stories worth repeating (retelling). Plus there's something to be said checking out Easter's seasonal Spring finery. Imaginations (sacred of course) take on so many all new view points, bless them all.
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Holy repercussions. I wish I could just plainly open my head to exchange the hurting contents inside this one with another set of pain free contents. Shortly after lunch yesterday the stabbing attacks have returned with some colossal sound effects loud enough to drown out all the other sounds common to this household: refrigerator, woodstove’s stack fan, washer and dryer.
My head in a whirl, Frieda insisted I lay down. That was a good idea. I slept until sundown waking in time to see the day’s light fade. I felt refreshing the whirls of thousands fo gears having left my head clear. Next, I discontinued two of the here medications to wait and see what new or old feelings would my head hold.
I believe Dad was right in his saying, “Heaven and Hell were right here on Earth.” BGKC.
Fernan

A-make-Up Storiee

An afternoon happening some time ago Frieda and I had driven into the city, an hour drive each way.
I had asked the dentist, "Can you pull a tooth quickly? I'm already running late! We’ve got a barn full of cows what’ll be ready for milking in an hour, our needing to get right back. I don't have time to wait for anesthetic to take effect."
His looking me up and down I figured the dentist likely thought, "This is one brave man, asking to have a tooth pulled without anesthetic."
The dentist asked me, "Which tooth is it, sir?"
The immediate extraction looking promising I turned to Frieda, and said, "Open extra wide, Dear, and show him your tooth!"
Well! I had promised make-up stories!
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Betty Page has died aged 86 years:
Do I remember Betty Page? Right after basic recess s3x education 101 discussions. Her required anatomy’s study was taken up in the center sections of the barber shops a-natural periodicals. Now, there was geography and landscaping enlightenment rivaling the National Geographic. Did I remember Betty Page? I’ll let my reader decide.
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Having a tire to fix I wrestled that cold rubber off it’s rim. Checking new old tire it’s old enough it needs an inner-tube.
Deciding it was time I do something about protecting the bale wrapper’s engine I sought out some plastic to cover engine. I gave starting rope a pull, gladly finding the engine free. I also covered the bale wrap plastic in place rather than taking them off the machine, and secured their coverings with sisal twine. When I thought I was all done I remembered I hadn’t tied the engine plastic down let alone tied tightly.
Getting late aving postponed Lunch so’s I had something’s done to show for the day I took a late lunch. Getting into house hitting the warmth of the wood stove I found me feet had gotten cold. Before lunching, I took my leather boots off. And independently put both boots and feet to the fire’s warmth. A wee bit latter neighbor friend Juan came by to take me to my neurologist doctor clear over the extreme other side of Flint. Starting out with more than enough time to get there, I managed to mess up the last block or two in the trip’s vicinity. Having gotten confused over the location his office and its appearance, we thought we’d have to encircle the block more than once until the Indian had surrendered.
This about covers it for today’s Shorthorn country adventures. BGKC.
Fernan

congrates Texas

I honestly can't imagine a winter season without snow. Just don't seem natural someway.
Congratulation's Texas. Live it up and enjoy.
{:D Whoopee {:D I'd certainly like to send you guy's some more snow via express airmail free delivery.
**********
Shop time I might have screwed something up. No info in the big Green JD book of instructions for removal of bell housing’s cross shaft clutch forks removal, I tried as per poorly written instruction. What I had taken for granted a solid shaft, it appears to be a thin hollow tubing. Now think I need some sort of shouldered stop for either pushing with big freaking hammer and/or possibly drilled and tapped fro pulling?
I canned fuel to late to fuel the gas Ollie. But the stuff is standing by. Managed to load Cushman anxious to serve its driven master. It’s baked up to front deck for carrying in yet this evening.
Headache so bad this AM I took myself to Doc for more ideas. Along with treating the headache, I suggested maybe I was suffering restricted sinus passages, as I had had four days dripping/running nosed relief. He loaded me down with some samples I’m required to report back on. He’s made an appointment for my seeing the neurologist again tomorrow. I’ve got to remember to straighten this second doctor out on his ridiculous idea my need for physical therapy and a nurse. I may put up with a nurse who’s already seeing Frieda. A gal who knows how to telephone Frieda (her patient) in advance and how to knock a knock on a country door.
A couple more sips of wine and I’m plainly plum tuckered out. So, from Shorthorn country as it is. BGKC.
Fernan ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Through my tears

Through my tears of laughter and pain each canceling the other out giving me a even chance at survival. The pain? I a-woke this morning taking my barest minimums of medications to continue living another day. What I didn’t take was what has become an advanced sidetracking pain medication. Thankful for the laughs the varied daily pains are eased.
For trying to skip the ritualized acetaminophen cookie’s down this AM making my face almost feeling as it it’s hit a Greyhound bus head-on. I know this isn’t so. While what hurts: my forehead, both temples, behind or around my eyes, my cheek bones. My nose spared the head on injury, it could not have been the Greyhound, the nose continues to leak all manner of watered running’s and drippings for a forth consecutive morning.
Just some of my medicine pain reliever’s come from http://countryvisits.com/forum.php here. So, I dare a couple real ladies who’ve been reading me to look in http://countryvisits.com/forum.php here, where they are also read for themselves, (snicker snicker) for the written true country ethics. (he he he)
~~~~~~~~~~
I got most the chores laid upon me this AM for Bro’ was sick enough it’d been unwise for his coming out for what I could in his stead. The worst part of this one of the twins waited till dark to tell me a bale was needed behind the barn. Wonderful. Just freaking wonderful. She couldn’t help me, no one in her household could help me. The problem was by myself having to in and out of the skid-steer a couple three times to dangerously fast to hold the little girls at bat whilst I feed them. The dangerous part is the skid steer is so bloody hard to get in and out of, doing it quickly could cause a man’s accident I rushed, and I didn’t want it to be mine. Secondly, while I’m wrestling the skid steer’s driven antics, sum the little darlings could get by me, and not wanting to round them up and drive them back.
The kids denying me help, Fillis not answering her phone, Handy likely gone off to AA meeting, and at a loss for help, I was so glad to see Sparky was home. Stopping by Loopy acres, darkness falling, he should be in soon. He was and joined me in my need for a bit of gate help.
Uh hum, in addition to this, Sparky had just gotten himself an eight point buck and needed to give the unlucky beast another twenty minutes or so to bleed out some before an approach. Offering my help I was denied. Set aside in my place (sniff), a Loopy son would help dad himself. That’s alright though. Sons and fathers should do things together. I’ll get a look at the buck tomorrow.
~~~~~~~~~~
And, what’d I do today? I managed to haul the best of the last corn-stover home. It was nice out all day even though there were moments I’d thought my face might have frozen and was waiting to just plainly fall off. That’s just one of them little quirks a northerner enjoys with the passing of the seasons. Getting in a an hour and a half after dark it had been a good day. From my Shorthorn country to your country BGKC.
Fernan

1st Day 51st blissful yr?.

I am so upset with my story unable to finish it as I had intended. I have got this childish feeling I need to start it all over again to see if I can not have it turn out right as it had should: on time, all the missing pieces included, a proper ending, and most of all eliminating a cliffhanger; I had run out of time to written proper.
Having had a good time with this, I’m thinking I may take some more time away from the internet and arrange everything I written into an exclusive new file where in I may fill in the missing pieces climaxed with the proper ending to the very second part of our romance. But then again, the first part could very well be the one or two page intro part upon the adolescent kids merely looking at each other in the (high school) halls of troubled learning through the mists of storm laden clouds raining raging torrents of hormones.
Yesterday was a Shorthorn country Hell day. I don’t remember the beginning. Along with what didn’t go right there was absolutely no problems with things going wrong. Even this new morning I’ve just remembered I had forgotten to put something way or even so simply as just covered to keep it dry. And it were reported freezing ran was upon us around about 7:00 PM evening last. I had to unload Ugly. I had to jump start Ugly, off dreaded gas Ollie. Tarp cover on wagon had to hammered hard water bailed off.
I had to wade manures deep enough up in the barn the gates where dragging. I got involved delivering to the slaughterhouse/butcher site, a seemingly undeliverable steer. Weather conditions such as they’ve were only yesterday had all the Department of Agriculture certified scales unable to settle out for even farm produced commodities or (in our case) livestock approximant weights. Plus calling on neighbors for rented lands declaration affidavits.
And during all this last steer weighing problems I had been shanghaied into a coffee clutching round table discussion causing my missing my half of a shaky marriage celebration.
Plan A: I was about get an answer to my burning question, “Will our marriage last?” Did I? Sort of? Frieda wants a new updated offer before she gives me an answer. At least I didn’t get another “Maybe?”
Entered plan B: It didn’t help either when I plum tuckered myself out pulling on an unyielding cork from the first bottle of imported TB wine. I thought I might toast her enough times I’d get her smashed enough I could get her to say something I could hold her to. Only the Swedish army knife had miserably failed to extract the cork.
Plan C: I’ve got to do some of this all over again. First order of the day, Get me one tough levered cork screw puller before I try to delude her sensibilities again.
Dog Gone It! Plans A, B and C failing I immediately improvised plane D. Looked for and fortunately found my battery power hand drill. Washed up a bit for it and unceremoniously drill a 3/8” hole in the cork. Finally dribbling some of the exquisitely colored liquid into a couple glasses. A glass apiece in hand we toasted each other. I, May we have many more years pleasant memories.” and Frieda simply said, “To us!” We clinked glasses and enjoyed this magic elixir. Well done old man. You are an artist wine maker. Uh hum? Have I ever given you my address?
~~~~~~~~~~
Dog gone it!
I should have called Sparky to come up the road and keep an eye on my droopy lines. Lost TV and most impotently the cable, internet and computer. So, got out for work earlier.
Skating quite lively on the frozen iced and sleet cover driveways and yards. Thinking I’d haul home the last of the stover I met rain going back outside a little later.
It was an ideal time I went gossiping for awhile. Sworn to secrecy, what was said of our cyber neighbors. (grin) Spent most the afternoon trying to read-up the shop emptying tool buckets sitting everywhere, put buckets of parts away, and cleared away some panting supplies. All this so’s I might get back to assembling the JD with tangling a foot in a shop floor laden of dozens of mechanical floor-mines.
It wasn’t to bad a day in spite the rain. I made it headache pain free until almost 3:00 PM. I lasted almost until 4:00 PM, having to give it up by that time. I had to have a pain reliever before my going painfully dizzily blind. BGKC.
Fernan

Our Day Wed

It was fifty years ago this very day’s evening Frieda and I hand in hand we had taken our vows to Love, Honor and Cherish the other. I remember Reverend Orth asked, “Do you take this hand to love ……etc.” I wasn’t looking at the young lady whose hand I held in mine as I was not taking anything from her! I looked at our union as giving myself to her, to care for, to provide, to shelter, to protect, to comfort, celebrate accomplishments, and no less than to support her physically, emotionally, spiritually a shared life together.
I didn’t know if I loved her? All I knew once I had held her in my hand and listened to her spoken heart, I knew I could not live a lifetime without her. I had to be her rock. While I may have thought I had given myself to her, she has given far more of herself to me.
And the biggest laugh, we share these days, comes upon my current confession, “I only married you for your body?”
I thank all your kindest thoughts for us. May thee all be blessed every one
Fernan

Only I day to go

Three days before saying our vows, I had stupidly had my left hand up upon a door steadying it while pushing a chisel upward trying to clean a mortised relief for a lockset’s bolt flange, the chisel slipped and cleanly cut my left thumb off, it landing in the saw dust and wood chips covering the floor. Oh shucks. I done it good this time. I picked up my thumb, wrapped my hanky about my hand my thumb held tight by my fingers, grabbed a broom and simply shoved twice every thing against a wall, walked out of the house locking the door behind me. I already knew I wasn’t going to be back.
I got into my truck and drove it down town to doc’s office. That’s where he’d be by that time of day. I parked almost in front his office entrance leading up-stairs to his second floor practice. It was one of them long high rising stair cases do to the store building’s first floor ten foot ceilings. Getting there, my trying to see either Doctor, my telling the receptionist I had just cut off my thumb, she insisted I had to take a seat and wait my turn just like everyone else. Myself in no mood to get excited I took the only empty chair left in the waiting room.
My hanky white when I had wrapped my hand in Stub Reader’s basement it was spotting red as I sat down. While I wasn’t hurting I used my right hand trying so slow my own bleeding pressing on my left wrist’s pressure point. I’d have to say my grip couldn’t hold the bloody flow from running. By and by the hanky had turned completely red. The hanky no longer capable to hold back the crimson essence flowing out of me I started involuntarily dripping on the floor. A puddle was born, one drip, a second drop, and more. About the time the puddle had reached a silver dollars size my blood made a splash. At that moment before a second drip could make a second splash a woman screamed. “Oh my God!” I thought “Some one’s hurt worse than me!” And there was a whole chorus of screams, one woman shouting above the rest of the noise. “Will someone please help this man bleeding to death!”
Coming through the doors what lead into the medicine men’s inner-sanctum Both Doctors came with a mission in their eyes, surrounding me, one on either side they had me up and near dragged me towards the door on the left. So swift they were they nearly got me there without my efforts trying to walk for myself. Oozing three grown men wide I was funneled through that left door, Doc Itzen’s left arm immediately cleared his desk to the floor. His Nurse Freda with a wide push broom, unceremoniously pushed further Doc’s personals even closer to the wall. I was whirled around my backside going down to meet a chair that hadn‘t been there moment earlier. A towel from nowhere appeared upon the big old walnut desk, my left arm laid upon it, finger’s pried open my thumb was set aside to continue existing as a possible souvenir.
No sooner set down I was nearly whip-lashed to my feet my left hand meeting with some skin staining green soap and had it thoroughly scrubbed in an old office sink. Had it been me, I wouldn’t have been near as rough with it. Then whether I was ready or not I was shoved backward into my reserved chair, my arm back on the desk, Freda was laying a white toweled tray upon the roomy empty topped desk. She brought more towels, syringe and needles. Even a couple brown bottles I knew weren’t containing booze my knowing their shapes. Everything readied in seconds Doc was seated cross corner from me, Freda returning setting a screen upon the desk between Doc and I. I removed it, setting it out of my vision’s way to the back of the desk. “I don’t want you getting sick and vomiting on me.” Doc spoke, saying little more going straight to his work poking my hand with syringes filling them individually out-a one of the brown bottles. “I wont.” I promised. And, commenced to watch Doc push and pull the butchered flesh around looking for one thing and another to clamp a forceps’ on, and as long as I was going to watch he hung the bunch of them on all my right hand’s fingers and thumb. While he was attaching all that hardware inside my thumb, Freda had come back with a sewing kit. Not a whole lot unlike my mother’s only cleaner all in white, the threads and container. A moment our two my hand in Doc’s nimble fingers, my torso was physically engaged, finding myself helpless, Freda had managed to roll up my right sleeve to poke me...to only give me a tetanus shot.
When Doctor was nearing his reassembly with me, “How did you get here? Who brought you? Why didn’t you go to the hospital? Who’ll we call to come and get you?
The thumb back where it belonged it looked like a Frankenstein work of art just before it was sandwiched between two tongue suppressors and all wound together with a couple yards of adhesive tape.
“I drove myself here! I came alone! I knew you’d be here and I’d have to wait for you there! And, I’ll drive myself home because my truck is parked downstairs and has to be taken home!”
“Can’t do that. You could go into shock.”
“I can drive my truck home. I’ll even promise I wont go into shock until I’m safely inside my home.”
Determined in my way. Doc relented, “Straight home it is then. I‘ll be checking on you. No stopping in the first tavern you come to either.”
And he did too. He had called my home to learn if I had made it or not. While he was at it he issued some order’s upon my behalf.
As for me, I made the drive home without incident, entered the house, and hit mom’s couch. There I laid and slept the clock near around. When I a-woke, I a-woke perspiration’s stinking of a shock’s fever’s flushed from my pores. Oh Lord, was I ever hungry. And most importantly, my Frieda was the prettiest angel to come into focus.
Super eatened, the masses denying me my vote had unanimously voted as a unit in one voice had decided I either take for myself or was about to be given a committees bath. Okay, out numbered, while severely handicapped with one left hand’s throbbing ache, I relented. Besides I might feel better refreshed afterwards. Disrobing was no bother, running the water easy enough, settling my butt into the shallow end of the tub, the warm water felt good the steam rising refreshing my senses my eyes even felt better. Settled in, a helpless reality come over me my unable to comfortably soap my washcloth. Oh bummer. “Mon!” I shouted out so’s she could hear me from behind closed bathroom door. A moment or two later I heard voices outside my door. My dilemma’s answer was just the other side the door about to enter and render me aid.
The door opening I could hear my mom saying, “You might just as well start taking care of him tonight. He’ll be your responsibility in a couple more days anyway.” And Frieda was pushed through the opened door my seeing only my Mom’s hand retreating after its evil mission had unceremoniously pushed the girl into that room to hover over me. How does one express embarrassment, save for dumbfounded looks and blood’s changing complexions’ vivid red. I know my whole being was turning red as was her’s under the embarrassed eyes of one potential bride. I knew she soon see my all at some point. Only, I wanted it to be my chosen moment to reveal my all. I was looking forward to maybe an even exchange of realities revealing differences. This was so one sided…… My some twenty houred sleep having totally worn me out I retired early climbing the stairs to my room. Either tired or exhausted I simply wanted to lay down and let another sleep envelop me.
~~~~~~~~~~
Ho Boy! Was a big day to day. I took Frieda to church. Read a poem I had written for her some thirteen years ago tro the congregation. I’m afraid it might have been interpreted a wee bit to racy for half the folks listening and looking on. It might have been better had I preempted the telling with an explanation the piece held few metaphors, It was truly truthfully written in the words what best described the scenes.
~~~~~~~~~~
Getting back to the spreader this morning I had finally seen an answer to realigning the chains and scrapers. That was before noon. After lunch I got into loosening the chain guides. I pushed and pulled the chains until I had them running together. After I had replaced broken missing link, tightened the chains I took it for a satisfactory spin to check out the workings. It runs fine.
Second best part of Shorthorn country goin’s-ons came on me in the manner of a most beautiful sunny day we hadn’t had for quite-a few days. BGKC.
Fernan

Only 2 more days

My telling Bob about Karen’s behavior, he telling me to keep it to myself. Dolby would never had believed me anyway. It’d likely push him in to doing something even stupider.
Some days later double dating with Dolby and Karen, using my automobile we all went to a drive in movie. It was time for sweet revenge no mater how trivial. Being it was dark save for only the light reflected off the theater screen. (paint me a devilish smile across my face) The little boy in me had to do it.
My right arm around my favorite girl, my left arm’s hand free, I started slowly counting Frieda’s ribs. What‘d I get? I got a “Stop that!“ with an included little wiggle. Oh yes, Frieda was responsive. A moment or more passed and I moved my fingers up her ribs and finding the right place. With my first index finger I started drilling between two those ribs. I got a, “Stop that!” this time. As with the first two intrusions her fingered ribs I remained quiet. It weren’t time yet. For now let Frieda and somebody else know something good was going on in the front seat.
My right hand steadying Frieda’s frame with my right hand two left handed fingers started creeping up her ribs this time I did a bit of light pinchy-pinchy getting a lightly wiggled “Stop that!” Letting her have a moments breath I pinchy pinch her again, getting a, “What do you want?”
To this I answered, “Marry me.” To this I heard some shifting of a body, some advanced breathing from the back seat. While in the front seat I got a “No!”
Undeterred, I knew of a couple really ticklish spots and pursued one, giving it a wiggled finger thrusting. Oh Lawd, did she ever give the stepped up wiggle I wanted. “Stop that! What do I have to do with you?” she shouldn’t have asked me. The windows around once clear a good part of the movie were steaming by this time. “Marry me.” I repeated.
She answered “No?” again.
I whispered in her good left ear, “I’ll keep asking until I get something other than a “No” answer” and, then I let us both rest for a moment. Meanwhile, there was a lot of audible heavy breathing sounds coming to us seated up front. One more moment or so, I thoroughly enjoying the front seat conversation and its repercussions witnessed from the back seat. Having enjoyed those moments I went after the tender flesh of my Frieda’s belly. Ooh she started to double, my right hand steadying her, “Enough!” And I asked, “What you say now?” She came back with, “Maybe.” To wit I asked a relative question, “Is that definite “Maybe?” my finger caressing her body, “Yes! Yes! A definite maybe!” And that poor wench in the back seat would have come over that seat back with a single bound had I asked the marraige questions of her. How very sweet even the smallest revenge may satisfy a single soul, when I had expressed my determined resolve. (grin)
~~~~~~~~~~
Let me see? Me think’s I started my day with writing some nasties for and about a few my good cyber neighbors. I‘ve often been kindly that-a-way over the years. (grin) Right after that checking my story I have to leave some parts out if I’m to finish the most pertinent parts by Monday. Then go back later and fill in some more of the remaining interesting parts.
As for the rest of this day I’d like to forget a whole lot of it. But that isn’t going to happen. My cardboard tote covered dog house over the manure spreader hitch assembly for the milk house heater worked like a charm. Taking the coverings away the power take off shaft was as free as new and hooked to the tractor’s PTO splendidly.
Then Bro’ asked me to go with him for a load of hay. I thought a good excuse for getting out of work. Yikes, eleven bales at not to bad a price considering recent bounces in farm commodity prices. The roundtrip drive was 30 mph in slush, slip and slide road conditions.
Getting back, coming home for lunch I had to fix it myself. I was not a happy camper.
Getting back to the shop Leland’s Ollie started beautifully considering the weather. Snowing all day we’ve gotten another four to six inches of the stuff with continually dropping temperatures. Engine running I thought I had try engaging the PTO. Dadgumit! The spreaders apron chain broke. I spent the rest of the afternoon wrestling with chains rakers and stubborn uncooperative chain to track alignments. That was right up until I could not stand and walk straight my headache coming back to me for another miserable visit. Come morning, perhaps I’ll see the repair simplified and easier fixing. Oh boy! Am I ever tired this evening and warmed by the welcomed fire into my cold sole after so many ups and downs rolling in the old and new snows around about and under the spreader. I’ll sleep good tonight. BGKC.
Fernan

Saturday’s BS extras {:^)

Woke having had a good sleep. My story accelerating much to fast I’ve had to leave some out. And thinking maybe I’ll write the missing pieces to fill in the betweens this coming approach to this years end and add them later. And then there’s all the nasty elements of a long lasting married life I’ve happily suffered what needs equal writing about?
Now talking catch ups of things unwritten, I’ve been laxt keeping up with my cyber neighbors: Gosh something how we change and change again. A misery party’s putting up a once live tree again this year after a mild form of Christmas humbug. I know “humbug’ is the wong word but then this tree was USA grown and cutoff US roots grown in US soil. But unless this tree looks back at you with slanted needles it’s no wong tree import. (grin)
I reads everything’s dead in one Tezas community with the exception one retarded….oops….retired(?) cattleman’s imaginative nose. (insert laugh here) If it weren’t for the furniture’s turnovers and bottled essences in the waist room, the poor man would have nothing to blame his I’ll feelings on. (same inserted laugh renewed).
The “as the world turns” mystery program is reported still on a continuing financial hiatus.
So busy with my Shorthorn country needs I ‘ve most fortunately missed enough priceless coffee stops at Loopy Acres to more importantly miss the mistress’s wrath over the miserable tricks Mother Nature’s been playing on this poor soul’s life’s changes. (frown)
Quoting KC, “I just want things to be in order when Christmas rolls around and we have all our family and friends over for Christmas dinner.” Oh my, I’m flabbergasted that you should want me and mine down for Christmas dinner, KC. Now just as soon as I hire a bus and a driver willing to drive it that day, I’ll load up my kids, grand kids and great grand kids, some cousins I haven’t seen in awhile plus a couple neighbors to fill out the bus and be there about 2:00 AM in the morning, Lawd willing. (smiles all around here)
Getting out of the woods, seems a couple long nosed, short legged, long bodied guys showed up in time their adopted home for turkey leftovers. I don’t blame them such a kind and understanding face to greet them, they can’t help themselves. Seems they knew an easy mark when they had seen one. Guest doggie motel in the garage? I wonder if it includes cable TV and surround sound.
Snow coming to the Adirondacks there ’s talk of birds, shopping, colds and two kinds of stuffing. Making it and eating it. And how about having three kind pies. I gotta see one of those. A kind pie as opposed to a nasty pie. Flat on their bottoms how do they get around. Thanksgiving over some brighter Holiday anticipations ahead over surprise packages is growing. May thee all receive something useful if not all that entertaining.
Until Shorthorn country’s BS flows again, this is it for these busy days. BGKC.
Fernan
Until later today......

Just 3 more days

It was along about the last of July or early August Dolby’s heavy girl friend (well, I thought them a heavily dating item) approached me. Dolby was Bob’s adopted brother (by kin). Bob was my current buddy who owned the red convertible. The girlfriend’s name Karen.
I’m going to suppose Karen had caught me without Frieda on my arm, after Frieda an I had quarreled, only Karen likely didn’t know this, or did she? Any way my not interested, the conversation had been worked around my Frieda and I’s relationship. Karen had somehow gotten around to wanting to share some important facts about Frieda I may not have noticed or other wise knew?
Somewhere within part of what I thought was going to be or ordinary conversation she had brought op, “Have you noticed Frieda’s marked for life?”
Flabbergasted at this announcement coming from this one I had taken for granted was one of Frieda’s good friend’s. Preoccupied my thinking about Frieda interrupted, jarred to reality looking at Karen unbelieving manner, I spoke, “Why no,” I answered suspiciously wondering just what she was getting at? “I must have missed it”
“Her upper lip’s scar.” she informed and asked, “Haven’t you seen it?”
“Why no!” I answered, my vaguely getting an idea what was coming, “My looking into her eyes. I’ve never noticed her lip.”
Obviously, she needed to tell me more; adding, “She’s never finished High School.”
“I don’t know if that’s all that important.” I countered, “She’s gone to Beauty Collage. She‘d had to be smart enough for that,”
Karen showing some frustration with my blasé attitude, had saved for last her coo-day-graugh. “She’s adopted.”
“No kidding.” I answered this with a tone of enlightenment, “Wonderful, absolutely wonderful. She must have been a very special little girl for a couple who’d had so much extra love in their hearts to share, to want her, to shower all that love on her. Wow!”
That was the end of that, or was it?
~~~~~~~~~~
Shorthorn country caught up in a stalled low pressure snow filled system over our heads is making outdoor work very interesting these days. Temperatures in the low twenties is better than down around a zero. So, meanwhile, I’ll simply enjoy what we’ve got, a-while we’ve got it.
~~~~~~~~~~
Handy making an early call had downed a small button buck on this muzzle firearm’s season. This makes his third kill for the season. Sort of makes up for some of them dry years he finished the hunting season empty handed. So good his hunt this year he’s even bagged a tom turkey.
~~~~~~~~~~
The ‘Leland’ Ollie refusing to start ,after its block heater was plugged in for a couple hours, required a battery boost. The PTO change over was clean enough. Trying to hook up the manure spreader to the Ollie impossible today. Rigging a milk house heater under the PTO shaft for the night housed under six pieces 4’X5’ cardboard to hold a heater house shape over the spreader tongue I covered that with a tote bag. I should have a free PTO shaft come morning for hook up.
I checked on Chip for the first time today since his reversed colon surgery. He seemed to be doing alright worrying only over the slow healing the once temporary outlet in his belly. First guy I’ve ever seen with a staples near his naval who wasn’t a women’s centerfold spread. (he he he) But, unlike Joe Nanmuth, Chip has never been into panty hose. (ka chuckle, ka chuckle)
~~~~~~~~~~
Getting home I managed to haul one Cushman load firewood up and into the house roughly finishing an hour and a half after sundown. Then I just hated coming in having to face the heat of the woodstove’s output. Didn’t know if I could holdout staying awake long enough to properly fall asleep face first in my supper?
~~~~~~~~~~
Biggest Shorthorn country accomplishment today…? Not once did I do a density check the snow, packed snow or ice, nor the earth beneath it all. How’s that for one proud totally upright country gentleman’s day ?! BGKC.
Fernan