Frieda’s talking a new knee. I got up without a backache. Spat’s taken a ride to Lansing for a fertility test. I missed getting out in time to say, “Bon Voyage, Spats.” But got numerous instructions what I could do and where I could go just the same.
Clear skies, full moon all night, it’s looking like a day to take a bite of and enjoy. I slept almost till 6:00 AM second day in a whole row. Ate venison last nite. Life is good.
Had to make remodeling fix the electrical discouraging hot wires on the younger bulls pen gate. I wound up using some (not all) high tension fence insulators, some spring loaded electric fence post insulators and some stainless steel hose clamps. Should I remember, I’ll try to take a picture tomorrow of the key assemblings.
I worked on the tall tractor seat. Managed to take it well apart, almost. Have an adjustment bolt frozen in the whole of the assemblage. Have liberally oiled the troubled spot with penetrating oil. It’ll take two seat bases parts to make one whole working base.
Helping Ray with his chores I walked into the shock of my life seeing the barn’s feed and tack area had been cleaned up and the trash packed into five extra large feed sacks. Three more bags from the shop the trashman’s a pile to pickup there come tomorrow.
So, backing the honey wagon up, a couple three days ago my walking into the upper barn there was more mess up there than I ever wanted to contend with. Simple fact of is I haven’t picked up after the kids in over a year, and have continued to wonder when they might do something about it for a change. I hadn’t had a thing to do with ever making a mess the depths they have let it go for the last couple years. And when I saw there mess having grown to gargantuan proportions with their chore boots strewn everywhere, I lost it. I didn’t spout off, I didn’t blow a gasket, I did remain calm, cool, collected, and while I was at it I simply picked up their boots and threw the lot of them into the mounting trash pile I hadn’t had a thing to do with. Wow! Now I’m wondering what do they want?
Lost an asshole know-it-all mouthy bigoted friend this morning whom I don’t know how many times I’d had liked to have punched his headlights out. One thing he was, he was always there to give another farmer a hand regardless what or where he was or was not doing. He’d drop everything come on run to help. Damn it, I’m going to miss him. Divorced he leaves one 20 yr old son the farm lock, stock, and barrel. I hope Jack isn’t to timid or bashful to ask his new peers for thoughts, advice and/or help. His dad couldn’t have been more than 50 yrs old himself having had something like three heart attacks within the last two weeks. He’d had one stint put in. It had collapsed and they put another one inside it. A few days later another stint next to the first two. He called his son home. His son called 911 for an ambulance. He died in our local heart specialists hospital.
Frieda has been hospitalized there twice and dreads ever going there again. Give us the County Hospital (Hurley). Everybody there knows us and takes such good care of us. Bottom line, I trust them with doing their best with my life, our lives. BGKC
PS: Oww! And Spats? It's reported he has the goods. Now the question is his ability to deliver the goods?