Mother’s Day

Her Mostess making plans, keeping me informed of an up-coming day’s expected celebration’s activities has last moment refused herself a yeller chariot’s ride to a restaurante in either Otisville or over to the Crossroads; and, it’d only taken me but a few moments to have taken the gas and grease cans, barbed wires, field tools off the Cushman to make it a more acceptable (rumatic) buggy ride. Her change in manner is liken she’s suddenly become fussy. (frown) And, it’d been a beautiful sunshiny day for it. Why, I could have put the windshield up, even washed, to lessen her hair blown around. “The old gray mare ain’t what she used to be.”
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The plans supposedly changed, daughter not coming we had breakfast home. About the time we had finished here guess who come to take her mother out for breakfast. The plan had been changed again. So. We went out too do breakfast again out this time. Frieda and I ordered light to accept our daughter’s intention’s in properly polite manner.
Back home thems two took off for a drive. I went shop and wrenched changing tall skids (Sudex ) for shorter machine lowering skid (alfalfa-lighter grass‘s) changes.
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While I was gone our Filly took Della cat outdoors to sit with her. Della so traumatized carried outdoors feared she was about to be taken away. She insisted upon making a bee line back into the house (her happy home). (grin) poor cat?
Oh, before I forget, we’ve another new calf out back.
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On going back to the shop, I worked the harvesting blades on the turtles. Almost finished ready to replace a last and second blade the whole turtle mechanism jammed. Not to awfully sure I knew the reason for such a drive train lockup I hollered at Bro’ for a second opinion. He almost immediately spoted the very problem my x-ray vision had missed seeing. I first replaced knife I had laid to one side had been caught by another turtle and turned into an instant jamming piece of worthless junk. Ouch, at least and above all last I was relieved there wa no trouble with the turtles drive-train. Whew! Back home invited for coffee I stopped by home for my meds and carrying a given computer monitor. Okay, I’ve got all the essentials for setting up a second computer for writing my stories and family ancestral research.
Frieda’s breathing difficulty I must take some serious issue over with Doc. Now hopping Ugly’s carburetor comes tomorrow as she is hesitant to ride Cushman four miles to either village we live between. Me, I drive and ride the Cushman as if it were merely an over grown motor scooter. Oh well, maybe I’ll luck out on Ugly’s new part delivery, part installed, and get her comfortably delivered for some seriously needed sensible medical attention. For example just walking down the ramp she was winded before she had gotten to the bottom end, twenty-four feet. The car was still only a few steps away. At the restaurante, on my arm, she had to stop twice to regain her breath both ways in and out. I’m wondering how’ll I make my point tomorrow? I’ll take her emergency bottle along and suggest we more or less see to it she’s stress (out) tested just plainly walking around Doc’s parking lot?
“Rainbows.”
Fernan