Drool, So Drool

With deep respect, she gets in her little digs. (grin)
Waking this morning at the hour and moment I’m supposed to be downing my rattlers (pills for those needing a translation) I brought my blanky with from bed to chair to stave off e cool chill the woodstove hadn’t taken off. So, taking to my chair wrapped in my blanky all over, including over the head liking my blanky to a cocoon, Her Mostess, said to me, “Now, you look better.” I get no respect! That “Now, you look better” phrase has been mine for years whenever Her Mostess has requested I cover her up against any chill waiting to come along my lovingly completing that act including her face‘n‘head now‘n‘then. (hehe) Oh well, let her get even. I’m tall enough to take it. (grin)
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Sparky’s Birthday’s got me thimking
Sparky
» and he wants a new grill
» one that he can pick out himself, and that's what he'll get...:-D
Myself having a couple instant thoughts along these same lines. For my latest Cushman acquisition completely missing it’s entire front end sheet metal housing, Sparky’s request has me thinking along a another idea line. I’d design and fashion an acceptable Cushman grill what not only be handy for knocking a deer down but also capable of roasting it to a turn.
OMG. This concept would also come in handy for Ron, the automotive deer slayer!
[IMG]http://i287.photobucket.com/albums/ll149/squal179/smiley/gotidea.gif[/IMG]
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A chilly 28* this morning. My heading ice covering the barnyard creek, no worries. There aren’t any fish in that creek anyway, a couple frogs maybe, but no fish.
Weather’s so changeable if I’m not putting it on, I’m taking it off. Coming home tonight, changing, making myself comfortable, I found myself so cold I couldn’t touch myself
With Toms help welding together a couple pieces of metal for me to make a through the whole post fence post gate hinge I finished a third troubled gate post. Phooey, Still have one or two more to go. When next I walked into the shop, Bro’ laid it on me about some missing drill bits in a couple drill indexes. I returned fire, “How should I know, you’re the one using them drilling and tapping all the holes lately.”
Here when the original planting issues came around to be taken care of he throws a wrench into it. “The field needs dragging.“ I countered with, “What’s your plan? Planting rye next spring. Somebody around is going to have to do it today. This is our last window before rain day after tomorrow.” I planted rye this afternoon on a well disked, un-dragged field. But Bro’s far from through with me. He talked in riddles over my seeding per acre. He takes the owner manuals and puts them away without my seeing most of them so I’m disadvantaged the total workings this planter I used today. It was until late afternoon did I figure out what an oddly mounted meter was for and how it worked. A third of the field sewn with half enough seed I’ll have to go over it again. What a waste of my time and our fuel to do a half fast job of it. Tomorrow’s planting will include making right the first third and the last two thirds correctly once and for all.
Damn, You suppose I got on the wrong side of the boss about the last planting, or had I used or taken the wrong approach. Siblings? Bah!
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I’ll be glad when this push is over. I want to make arrangements to bring new truck home, and, line up an AWOL volunteer for another gate post setting. This next gatepost needs to be an extra tall one to carry a hot wire overhead. No getting out of it. Farm life keeps a body always thinking,
“Rainbows.”
Fernan