….whether I’m coming or going? Reading some of my stuff I’ve managed to even confuse me. While what I’ve written is true, it is seriously chronologically wrong. So for the sake of the sums of my adventures here goes another addition rather than trying to correct whatever I might have written wrong I shall merely add another episode to my week’s haying adventures.
It was when the original baler had lost it’s belts I immediately headed for that mystery out of sight shed over the hill from where in with plenty of help we all worked together to bring out the farm’s original 605F Vermeer hay baler. A grand old machine it is. An original go getten it a dry-haying done starter. Checking it out any last minute details missed before it was laid up I looked forward to using and seeing it in action. So, it was back to my hayfield I went. Between us we had a couple little problems. Admittedly I had to figure out its operation all over again it been so long since I had used it last. Of-course its total operation all came back to me with the first mistake, my forgetting to tidily tie the bale before I dumped it out of the chamber. Ivey! The baler working I went straight away rolling all the hay I hadn’t done after the 445 Vermeer’s break down. I did rather well at that right up until the 605F mysteriously quit. What quit? Done again for the evening I parked in my farmyard driveway. Hopped on it first thing this AM taking it to the shop. There I mistakenly undid the main drive chain to realize the machine’s problem actually entailed a missing chain and sprocket. Phooey. All done again. Shane having joined me in the repair process the second Vermeer we be-lined it to the hay field driving up and down the emptied wind-rows looking for a couple wayward parts. Then it marvelously started to rain again for a change. So much for dry baling the last two rounds the field had left to offer. It was lunch time.
And, what was wrong? Parts missing. I must have searched the hayfield for over a couple hours between showers.
I was again called by Doc’s office. (his practice must be slow.) "Be here at 2:45 PM! she'd said. (period). I was on time I sat a few minutes (normal). When called in mm BP was taken I was to sit. Sit I did falling asleep nearly falling off my chair waking in time to catch myself. Fell asleep again laying my head in my arms on the examining table waking up when my left arm went to sleep. "Be here at 2:45!" she’d said. Doc walked in at 4:15. Talked to me for fifteen minutes to tell me I’ve got to increase my coumadin intake. Whoopppee! What's a body going to do this man takes care of as a generic doctor has never learned to understand. What'll I do? (Oh hum)
Okay, leaving there in the rain I wanted to make an afternoon of it so I headed for my first stop. Getting there they almost locked the doors behind me. This was the place to pick-up my ordered lawn trimmer part. For crying out-load it took these guys forever to take care the patrons.
Hurrying on my next stop was going to be Lesser’s gas plant for a medical oxygen bottle refill (in a bottle I had picked-up along side the road some years back). (Sure could have used it tomorrow getting Frieda out of the house if only for an hour a mile down the road.) They must have sen me coming the doors locked right on time. Nuts!
Okay, no gas. No sticking my head in the oven tonight! On down the road I rolled Ugly, made two right turns and I was at staples for some useless shopping. First thing new ink cartridges for my printer, next portable around the house telephones so’s Her Mostess will have something else to lose. (sigh) Purchased more CD’s to down load my stories onto and some covers to protect a bunch already copied.
I wasn’t done yet. Passing through the Crossroads I only marketed for a gallon of milk. Getting out of there I pushed one them new mini shopping carts the basket loaded with half price glass jarred pickles, a brand new not forgotten this time tall canister package iced-tea mix (got-it), and (oh yeah) a couple bags those diet decrepitating coconut chocolate bars. (yum) Pushing my load out the doors the cart’s lower level was loaded with three cases root-beer. I like my cans icy cold root-beer these hot summer afternoons for a hay making treat. So, I got a thirst!
Super time now. Gonna heat up some Mac’n’cheese.