Gosh, I’ve just been thinking, first snow may well be here in about a couple weeks.
It’s sad story herd every year. What else may I say:
There’s a lot of misery in my neighborhood, This and the other end. I’ll….err….we’ll be hearing of it over the next few days. Seams all but one of my lady’s off spring are being weaned as of yesterday. The one lady who’s just had a fall bull calf yesterday morning. Her and her’s will travel a quarter mile down the road to a barnyard with more conducive sheltering for the new lot of fall calves survival against the winter elements.
Having settled in the library for my daily constitutional The ladies gather as close to the fence aside the house continue calling their calves. I’m almost dreading stepping outside my door this AM for I know all their tones will change. I even know they’ll be waiting for me. They know where I dwell, they know my domicile. There will be one of them on watch my appearance so’s they may all state their individual cases in n uncertain terms. Oh what I must suffer going through this parting of the ways year after year.
Only 28* this morning: barnyard tux, check; gloves, check; hat to pull down over ears, check! The hat to muffle out the sounds of discontented ladies, my ears will take this moderate cold…err….chill. Oh so many voices I almost wish I could hide. But Greene is parked down by the barn for the loading today’s tools and materials to finish the gate post installations. (sigh)
On the road I finished up the closest gate first. I even surprised me self how well both changes had come out so well put together. A couple gates are swinging wide and easy today.
Called Tim about fixing his fence, the one I partially took out last weekend. On the road with the loader-backhoe by the time I got there he’d pulled the broken portion of a broken off fence post out of the ground. Latest news he told me he didn’t need me or the digger and he could handle the rest of the fence repair by himself over the next few days.
Home for lunch I slipped into a little snooze. Must of needed it. I called Handy to see if he wanted ride to store as I was going anyway. He rode along kept me company while Picked up a few things from the shop for making fix my Truckster down in the barn this time. Our Crossroads shopping completed for another day I returned Handy to his Mom. (An inside joke in here somewhere. Told him, “Tell your mother I returned you once I had had my fill of you.” Handy laughed and said “I will.” A grand lady of only about 97 pounds, she likes a good laugh. (haha) She’ll know better.
The shop‘s full Bro‘s project for who knows how long. A piece of cardboard under the machine covering the sand (dirt) floor to catch anything dropped I commenced to take an oil leak out of the machine’s engine. Wasn’t hard. It was even easier than I had expected. I don’t think it took me an hour from beginning to end. Of-course Sweetheart (cat) was right there with me the whole time that very same hour.
Another sad story as seen through my eyes:
Darn, darn, darn, lost the use of one of two my favorite 1850's halfway into Spring while making hay. So busy, so tied up in other more essential maintenance and seasonal repairs to the moment machinery needed, working fields, planting crops etc. That Oliver sat as a lone monument in an 18 acre pasture as a testament as to how important it is to have a spare tractor until Summer was darn near over.
A front mounted heavy duty hitching bar made and installed on that ailing Ollie Tom got to that tractor's furiously leaking injector pump. Our unable to see the leak there weren't nothing could be seen short of taking the pump off, which Tom did. It was found “A screw” in lower body of the pump, similarly located as the bleeder visible on the front. That one little screw was doing all the leaking, the diesel lost blown all over the whole side of the engine by the radiator fan. More specifically it were the wee little copper washer under that screw’s head was leaking profusely requiring replacement. That tractor is all right with the world now, since the seasons for its required use are all over and done.
The easy starting, best running, the best mechanically equipped with an over-under hydra-drive, such a pleasantly driven tractor, my always trying to use a non-existent turn signal usually found on an automobiles steering column.
A still sadder story:
A gentleman in my neighborhood having gone blind the last few years. He's limited to seeing shadows if the light is just right. He has an 1855 Oliver he had just had overhauled about the time he started loosing his sight. I think I could safely say from my point of view it is still a freshly overhauled 1855. He's had it for years. It's what I'd say is his favorite mechanical baby. We'd like to have it for the improved hydraulics volume over the 1850 for one of our haying implements. Meanwhile, he's not yet ready to sell.
Me, I don’t care one way or the other. I have no trouble with any 1850 making that rotary-conditioner talk. Bro’ seriously handicapped thinks it be an easier tractor for his use on that R-C.