I slept all night without a single stir I’m aware of. Waking the house was chilly for I hadn’t kept up the woodstove’s ferocious appetite. When Frieda got up she walked out her room and demanded I get this house warmed up…… I didn’t do nothing to cause it. But, then, perhaps there’s a problem with my analogy?
I stirred up the coals laid in some wood in my customary cribbed fashion over those coals. What? Wood to cold? What the? I kicked on the furnace and it seems to rebel also. Oh, it’s working. Just short on giving out with enough quick heat. Had thought about plugging the milk house heater in the hall outside the indoor privy. Yeah, privy, it feels as cold in there as I remembered it in the privy down on the farm. (brrr)
Yes, I’ve written a book. A literary master piece. I had lots of unsolicited help. I must say it started with a beautiful neighbor Lady’s children's comments. And, then there were all the children I’ve met, who’ve spoken, “I know who you are!” or You’re Santa Clause!” or “Look Mommy!” All of them thinking they knew me. I was compelled to hunker down and speak with them, my saying, “Have you been a good girl (or boy)? I hope you haven’t been playing near the road!” and “Of course, you mind your mother!” “And, you brush your teeth before going to bed!”
All these children, be they beside the road out for a walk with their mother or accompanying their mother on a shopping trip, they all inspired me. In a way each of them furnished me with the details.
It had been several months passing and I read a challenge in a local paper to write a seasonal Holiday story. I remembered all the fun I had conversing with all so many children I had stooped to speak with. Then stand up, and slip in a wink at their beautiful young mother’s. My mind remembering; filled with so many details, with the children’s unknown help, I sat down and had written and edited a prize winning story. The story published it was gratifying so many people knowing me and total strangers waved at me recognizing me from my newspaper picture. I was a celebrity for a time. Such fun. Anyway this is the story behind the story that had originally started one fine June day my driving an Oliver tractor hauling three wagon loads hay down the road.
It has been one fine day as day’s may go. While the weather was a bit snotty the State roads were in good shape. Once I got us on it the drive in to Frieda’s PT appointment was a breeze, maybe even liking the a similar breeze blowing recycled snow across the roads leaving the starts a many early morning snow drifts to narrow the roads. This drifting will keep the road crews out making some overtime.
Dropping Her Mostess off I continued on to TSC again to pick up some of those goodies I had spied yesterday. Planning on spending something like $12.00 when I had see something similar my spending money had immediately escalated to $20.00. Setting spending limits upon myself is the only way I can keep Frieda’s budgets in proper order (…err line). I got out of that TSC store for a mere $44.00 spent on a small bag full of parts for my quadracycle’s assembly.
Sure was good getting back home. The house was a whole lot warmer than that round trip drive into Clio and back. A bit of lunch, Boss lady settled in, I was fixing to go out the door. Gathering up some table scraps, plus some icebox cleaning with the true garbage packed in the trash. I took the stuff good enough for the cats with me out the door, and down to the barn to feed the cats. Ah what the heck, Looking out across the east field from the house The ladies could us some early hay. Besides it afforded me the opportunity to see if Mike was home So I could strip down two more bicycles.
Another bike stripped down just getting into the second (forth) one, my cell takes off ringing and buzzing in my breast pocket. Answering it Bro’d got himself stuck feeding his ladies. I put Mikes tools I was using away and laid back my junk out of the way mikes projects, four modified racers.
Getting down the road, what was I going to use for the tow? Whatever I chose, I’d likely refuse to run for me easily. I wasn’t to be disappointed. What the Heck, I chose the Tall Ollie still parked inside the shop. Totally unprepared for an easy winter start, no working manifold heater, a perfectly good block heater noy plugged in and nar enough time to let it work immediately. I gave it a shot of WD40 down the uncovered air intake, climbed aboard and ran the battery down just as I figured it’d do. The HD battery charger was down in his house where I had to retrieve it for jumping the Tall Ollie. A little WD40, long crank al the cylinders coming into play in each of there own sweet times I were finally running. Driving up and out to where the skidsteer was stuck he’d buried it. I needed a shovel. So it were back to the shop I go. On the way the fuel gauge had decided to quit. I’d had better put some diesel in this thing before it’s taking me an hour to prime it. Parked running beside the fuel storage fuel pump looking inside the fuel tank I could clearly see the bottom. I don’t know what it were running on. Putting the nozzle on automatic, I went after my shovel.
My suggesting it’d take a few moments to dig his buried skidsteer out enough that I may even hook it. He denied he’d buried it. I don’t know and not caring to question it, but when the mud and crap was up to the radiator, I’ve dug two feet deep, and when his machine had been pulled out, the earth’s imprint clearly indicated the machine had been sitting on its belly; hey, I could be wrong?
Almost sundown when I was freed down the road It was a day by the time I got home. I’d had enough. BGKC.