A very hot near sleepless night woke me leaving me a feeling trying to swim up stream against a relentless current. Waking up my pillow was unearthly absorbed in a old wet. Yuk!
Up a second time, looking out at the deck, we hadn’t had a single drop of weather guessers promised rain all night. Well, it isn’t over yet. Along with the Sun’s failure to come out, there’s a nervous uncanny stillness in the air with a media posted severe thunder storm watch hanging over our heads. Well, I’ve taken my rattlers and waiting out my hour for the lot to settle into their physical niches and notches before breakfast regardless its humbly sought nourishment.
My day’s goal is to get out the sickle mower what hasn’t seen use in twenty five years. Sneak’s assessment “It’s loose.” I’m figuring I’ll take some heavily numbered squirts oil to polish out the gathered rusts between the cutter bar and the that bar’s supportive frame.
Being a Holiday weekend there’ll be no place to haul and sell the additional scrap plaguing our way to bringing the old machine out. However the supposed worst expected part of the coming storm is still gathering more moisture over Lake Michigan before it is to supposedly get here. So, given prevailing weather delivered directions over our Shorthorn country. Sneak and I’ve got about six hours to “get ‘er done!” bring that implement out into the light of usefulness.
Right turn out the driveway Sneak and I hit the way of the proverbial yellow brick road that’d eventually lead to the old timey mowing machine. There was plenty of tree trimming two tress even coming down for safety of the participants working under them. Why we built a dandy monstrously heaped brush pile. Should make Bro’ happy….He may choose to either grapple the tree trimmings out to an already established burn pile OR attack those green leaved limbs with his brush-chopper I’m guessing that’s what its called?). The remaining scrap metals in our way we piled them on a steel paneled garage door. That make that junk easy loading onto the dumpy truck when the scrap yards once again open up after the weekend. Now that I’ve got it, the scraping bug, I want to clean up the whole forgotten area. There must be three more loads laying around the last one precious metals: aluminum, copper, stainless, you get the idea…. The area cleaning up nicely I backed the dumpy truck into the maze, loaded it with fire wood (good for year after next) and split for lunch.
On getting back we moved the what everybody really needs a horse drawn potato digger with the JCB skid-steer. Was a piece of cake. There it was finally open up and fully exposed nothing between it or us the elusive mowing machine. Backing down the 951 Ford tractor it were a snap hooking it up, delivering to the shop and backing it in. Once in the shade we commenced to try and figure it out. Obviously the pitman arm was rotted away (oh joy). The butter bar was rust frozen in place. No amount oil alone was going to make it move well alone. Besides all its knives needed sharpening. Mother Nature’s influence had undoubtedly taken the edge off all the knives. So with in the shop’s shade the breeze of a reassigned furnace blower doing its thing behind us, Sneak and I commenced to take some of the machine apart. Most remarkable of all our findings the entire drive-train was free and smoothly working in good order. Neared and beyonded quitting time Sneak and I still had a fence to relocate. It was like while changing that fence around it could have been said we weren’t all that sure whether we were coming or going. (grin)