…..one of the nurses who had taken care of Frieda during one of her hospitalizations remembered her and her farm residency. 'Tis Nurse had called our house some weeks ago inquiring as to whether we could take in a cat with kittens? One of us had said, “Sure!”
Seeing as how we can use a couple extra cats down in the barn checking rodent control we welcomed the call. The Nurses problem was two fold... Her neighbors complaining about the cats had threatened to poison them to get rid of them. A second problem she had to pay the animal shelter to get have them taken off her hands.
When the nurse had called way back when the mother cat had picked up and moved her family over night. Ah, suppose she heard or knew something was in the wind. Well it was mother cat who had mistakenly returned showen up with all five her kittens. She called again to make sure the assured old arrangements still stood.
Upon arrival depositing the kat and kittens down in the barn they were transported and released out of varied cartoons, two traps and a picnic basket. She’d also brought along bag of cat foot she’d forgotten to leave a big bag cat food, but she’d remembered to give Her Mostess $20.00 bill. She also walked Frieda back up the grade into the house.
Thus far they ain’t expensive to feed. I hain’t seen them ever since they’ve arrived and turned loose. I doubt this will last long about the time new arrivals have either decided to retake up eating they’ve died hopefully somewhere else. Then when they’ve started eating they never quit until they’ve died.
Enough of this, I gots to ready to go. A cable repair-person is coming to fix our TV reception. The troops are coming to fly-tag and worm the Ladies. I’ve got to get a-ride over to our rural motoring parts dealer for either a nut or clip to help me put the dumpy truck brakes right.
Sure glad I hadn’t cut down that blackberry tree* shade treeing my Dumpy truck work place, where I hopefully have put it all working properly back together.
With in the home front; Frieda handed me a clean new (Goodwill) shirt. Putting it on I felt as if I had put on 20 pounds muscle becoming Shorthorn country’s very own, Incredible Hulk. Then checked outdoors. Sheesh! The troops were already here. The ladies had been rounded up and only a couple had come through the chute and head-gate. I was still in time to get in the way.
The Ladies taken care of Keith took me to Otisville for the additional parts I needed to complete Dumpy’s brake repairs. On my return home I fed my face and got at it.
My afternoon went swiftly by. Dumpy truck was as back together as it was going to get here. Any more repairs I hope I’m nearer the shop. Rat now I’m gonna let the front brake bleed itself out for awhile. I’ve aired up the outside dual. By the time I’ve picked up tools, etc, etc, etc, my rattler time will have rolled around again. It’s also a good tea time. And, I must return Mikes tubing bending tool. That gadget was a real new brake line lifesaver.
Dumpy still needs a couple tires fixed. I’ve got inner tubes for them. The exhaust system needs some band-aid attention. Next big change on my Dumpy agenda, I’m looking forward to making the clutch a bit easier used for an old phart the likes of me to push in. Then I’ll be wanting to see what it can do. Perhaps if Dumpy behaves itself and properly helps with a few chores and jobs around here I’ll bend out a few body panels to make it look a wee bit neater. That’s just maybe? If all else fails for no more than I paid for the whole rig, it’d make one Hell of a farm dump trailer not quite braking even on junking the leftovers. And some of the masses had made fun of my purchase.
TV’s still screwed up. Cable repairman coming again tomorrow. I hope he gets it right this time. A couple the channels I like to watch haven’t worked until the middle of the night. Bummer!
Shower and laundry time coming up to wash off and out the stink, having absorbed all the dripped/dribbled brake fluid I’ve been bathed in all day today.
*the Blackberry tree is actually a Mulberry tree:
Had a city country gent want-to-be insist he knew what he was talking about. OKAY! To each his own I guess!?!?!?!? My last words…, ”Whatever floats his skirt.”