Dumpy’s done….
….for now and on the road. Had my Dumpy truck running and moving before taking yesterday’s lunch. While Dumpy doesn’t shift as easily as I had hoped the truck shifts without those once awful noises from under the floorboards. Whew, this mechanical job is finished for now.
The normal everyday chores, setting and restringing one leg of a fence ‘cause Bro’ thinks some the pasture grass may still grow some more.
I’ve mixed emotions were this idea is concerned. Granted the Winter rye is coming up in minute fractions that doesn’t mean the tired out pasture grass is going to do some astounding growths since we’ve had several frosts and one good freeze. Well. Using the Cushman the task wasn’t to hard though time consuming.
My finishing up the Dumpy truck yesterday I can’t help myself but for taking an abnormal dislike to Tom’s sticking his nose into whatever I’m doing. Perhaps it’s my age? Perhaps it’s my acquired short time memory? But I’ve been quite capable to make my repairs for years. Now, these days setting my mind’s ideal-ed pattern as to what I’ve pre-planned my day’s activity whether it relates to my chores, equipment repairs (Dumpy fits in here), seasonal implement changeovers or other rearrangements. Bottom line, I don’t need the interruptions, unsought advice, and/or know-it-all suggestions; breaking my narrow minded concentrations to get my immediate job done. When I‘m interrupted, my mind‘s concentration broken, I often have to back up and go through my whole routine up to the present to be sure I hadn‘t missed or deleted a step. For example; some silly interruption causing me to forget to close a gate, not that there are any local bovine opportunists around here ready and willing to walk out on their owns.
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His day’s forewarning society worried about our welfare I was notified a state social worker was coming by. I managed a look in the barn feeding the cats. Then waited for another few more minutes for the official visitor to come by and interview us. Forms in duplicate, short forms, long forms, tests to determine our mental capacities; even to individually access each of us outside the other’s influence; and still more forms to answer questions during our immediate leisure. That was three hours worth taking us into the noon hour.
This afternoon I fought Dumpy’s innate determination to run badly. I suspect one or two of the sparkplug wires had deteriorated either during the recent taking apart or putting it back together. On the back shelf I found two sets wires one old yet serviceable and another long forgotten brand new.
I re-hung the lower barn’s back service door. Unable to find my construction hammer I did manage to lever and hold the door near to the proper level for running home some lag screws with out my big freaking framing hammer minor adjustments could not have been made. I had also under estimated the barn timbers prowess to hold my poor choice of screws to short. So, it looks like while I finish that door hanging task tomorrow I’ll do it with a total number of all long screws.
I want to know where do such things as three framing hammers can disappear all at the same time? I do know when I immediately want a measuring tape or ruler not one may be had. Give me a couple days later I’ll have and know where all five or more had been gathered together, as if they were conventioneers. Figures!
Days becoming shorter every day we’ll get our season’s final acceptance of the whoopee daylight savings time cushion, this next Saturday night we all get to turn our clocks back. Nuts!
It’s 6:30 PM my sitting down and I’m feeling wasted, drained, shot, kaput, and caring little even whether I have supper I’m ready for sleep.
“Rainbows.”
Fernan