6-9-2011 Nuts

In spite all the water I drank-away yesterday I remember only one all night’s water haul. At that time nosiness grabbing a part of my inquisitive mind I looked out the door. We’d had a sprinkle. I’m only hoping it wasn’t a drenching rain, just a passing sprinkle. Well, I can hope. A passing sprinkle can dry in a few hours, a drenching rain may take days involving at least one hay raking. Oh fiddle-e-de!
Oh Lawd, I slept roughly eleven hours. Was my day that busy a long one. 8:00 AM and I’m in recovery. Have taken my rattlers I’m waiting my hour until breakfast. A couple belated benefits, The Offended baler and Ollie were readied to go to shop evening last. A secondly The ladies have been put back out on my near farmyard east pasture. They’ve been given an non-keeping bale for their refusal. TOUGH! I didn’t ask for all these Spring rains to mess up my haying or what’s going to be this years time consuming electric fences re-settings. Certain areas still wet and in need clear for the normal running my pre-sized (per established wire lengths (between established corners) I’ve got a few straight line issues. (grumble grumble , growl, growl).
Okay ladies, you’ve just gotten an unwanted summer hay bale. Tough. Enjoy, I’ve managed to roll two more for you’s this very day last, enjoy!
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Flash!
I’ve just called JD’s Tri-County Implement to assure them I’ll be in for a part I had ordered through them about three weeks and had been in for the last couple weeks. I just wanted to assure them that their efforts were not a wasted motion upon either our individual parts. I even extended a true rendition my absent reasons missing picking up the part. Rains, haying’s, heavy equipment repairs and a broken down truck. At no time did I bring Ugly’s name into our telephone conversation.
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Gosh! I dislike Wheaties! I should-a poured me something different.
Oh Oh! I neglected to finish this journal offering….. Lets see?
Some of the day I’ve already written. Some more of it went something like this. I had continued to bale more hay. Was happily rolling along just as if all was normal. I remember I had come to the rolling it up end of one windrow. Made my about turn for the next windrow and before I had seen it all happen the was a loud “Ka woop!” emitted from the baler behind me. Quickly looking I was to see of the big belts had parted it’s splice and become savagely consumed and baled. Oh crap was I ever surprised.
Lots of daylight I was thinking I get those belts out of the bale, a quick fix and I could finish this field. I fond my weight along leaning on that bale wasn’t going to move nor give up it captured black fat baler belt. Okay I drove what was left up to the farmyard. Even then as I approached the farm yard I had coming to see me the entire contingent of Shorthorn country ladies telling me they’s ready to peruse another greener pasture. NUTS!
I could no longer make hay, I no longer present the ladies with fresh earthly grown green grass. What to do? I called Shane for some two kinds of help. The first one some moral support, as my aging mind and body were feeling the debilitating effects to much happening wrong this day’s afternoon. Secondly I could use Shane’s assistance changing the ladies pasture from what they had to another one not much better. Plus moving a hay ring and feeding them a two or three day old mistake. And when we finished with the ladies we took off for the more distanced Duck Pond hay-fielded/pasture for the baler belts. Using the loader it was a series of a couple mismatched wrestlers the JD taking the initiative to attack the defensive hay bale. As untidy as the bale looked it still tried standing its ground, only the JD’s magical rolling foot work had the bale outclassed. The bale didn’t give in easily making sure the JD had to work for ever discombobulating jab in it could the bale backer right, back peddled rolled away, boxed pointedly left. Shane as if a refereeing capacity had the fat black belt out and down for a quick count first. It took the JD under my coaching influence to give in to the JD’s attacks to relinquish the second skinnier baler belt.
Both belts on the ground Shane and I rolled them tidily up and loaded them on the Cushman for their rides up to the farmyard. Only an hour or so daylight left I (we) gave up on making fix and finishing the baling that evening. The day was called.
“Rainbows.”
Fernan