Hot Hot Hot

Hot hot hot continues the Summer weather. Last night’s sleep was a restless sleep to say the least. Not just for myself, but included my Frieda as well. I was an all-night ice-box raider for cold self bottled country well water.
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(be forewarned I may repeat myself in the following.
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A cool breeze descending on us out of he NNW feel cool and refreshing I decided to go for a tractor drive. The Shelled corn supply gravity box empty I thought it prudent to have it refilled before the weekend. Last week’s grin was a three bag shorty, a week‘s orth at best. The WD45 teasing me we were on our way Boss Sixguy did the loading honors for me this morning, then the load was driven around the block for a weigh slip. By time I returned home I knew it just had to be iced tea time. If it wasn’t I made it official stirring my own brew with bottled well water out of the frig. Oh, that cold tea hit the spot perfectly.
As I sipped at my refreshing sweetened tea Bro had parked himself in my yard. Yaking on cells He talked me into my accepting a ride to shop. While I didn’t exactly feel comfortably ready to go I did anyway. Plan was I was going to look up some numbers I needed and he’d bring me right back. What the heck, Outside the shop scene I decided to stay and fix Dumpy’s exhaust system. Bolt cutters I had a 1st “U”bolt cut off. That part of the exhaust system needing my attention was free.
Checking out the back wall pideon holes I found just the right graduated repair part to reattach the exhaust pipe to the muffler once more. One clamp salvaged, two more used muffler ‘U’bolts off the shelf, one of them used, I had the exhaust system ready to go the danged parts are less likely off right away. Lastly I drilled and tapped some frame holes for license plate bolts. I closed the shop and went home.
I ate a cold lunch and hit the road. Washed Dumpy’s windshield clean inside and out. Cleaned it was my picture window looking out on where I was going. Gassed gas-can with me I headed for Otisville for gasoline and a core’s part return. Dumpy drove beautifully. It was while I were on the road I remembered last thing I had failed to. When this heat wave breaks, maybe during a rain, the shop floor clear enough I’ll properly grease Dumpy’s many scattered zerk fittings.
The last couple our’s Heel on soles my inability to walk a straight line half way through my motored trip I found I had better get my achy achy-soul, my itching prickly heated back with the whole body back home to some my life saving ice water. I’m where I want to be outside temps hit 102* 47% humidity it’s feeling liken more than 110* out there. House un-air-conditioned is 76* do to that nice NNW breeze blowing through the house. Attic insulation is paying off. Could be even cooler if I’d simply made a boxed fan powered gable end vent for an already existing glassed sash gable opening.
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Some-a-twitch! I’ve got a free day and it is just to damned hot to even think about replacing even one front door. Balderdash!!!
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Mid afternoon heat treat:
Like a couple or three days ago this heat wave phenomena tried its damnedest to get to me, with colossal amounts of immediate memory loss. Today without a known dehydration factor I became aware of but mind punishment just the same sort of noodle frying without the deep fat fryer.
Leaving here about 2:00 PM a lazily sitting on my derriere enjoying my Dumpy truck windshield cleaning efforts inside’n’out I was unaware any personal problems. Coming up on the first stop on my spur of the moment motored itinerary stopping for gas I found myself unbalanced. Without so much as an even accidental sniff of a cork was somewhat unbalanced. I stumbled out of the truck, I had a hard time with the store door. I found myself side stepping during my best efforts to walk a straight line. I hoped no-one, but nobody was observing me. Trying to tighten was useless. I don’t know what the prolem is with these Chevy fuel filling hardware’s‘. I couldn’t hold a steady grip on the dispensing fuel pump’s spout. Having to stoop and reach for the truck’s fuel tank was also an unbalancing stance. I moved on around the truck, brought a pail out of or off of the cargo bed, using it for an arse anchoring stool with steadied fingers my elbows resting upon my knees I gassed up the truck. Paid for the gas, bottle of pop, and a tobacco product and was on my way.
My staggering, swaggering wasn’t through yet. Comfortably sitting behind the wheel I felt back to normal. The next stop was but only a mile ahead along my way back home. I was damned, getting out of truck again I experienced the same un-stead walk having as yet not-leaving me alone. Again the unsteady wandered slithered walk. I could have qualified for a certified anaconda tracker. The core dropped off, some muffler clamps and some mini hose clamps, all paid for, I was on my way.
“Rainbows.”
Fernan