Hunten Season

Yup, another hunting season has been thrust upon me. Warm weather giving way to cold, continued frosts on the pumpkins, all manner of life forms looking for those special places to hold up or hibernate for the coming Winter. It’s time for all of them buggers to take to looking out for number one. And one of them have been insistent flies. Damned cussed flies. I’ve been on a daily safari searching and destroying the bugging pests with my rapid fire “Slywater.” There’s no end to this instruments ammunition as long as my elbow and wrist hold up, my hand’s fingers never loose their grip, my hunts success shall prevail. Three kills night before last, three more kills evening last, I’m on a roll. We should be a fly a way home free any day now. Oh! No license required.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It has quit raining overnight, the sun’s shinning, Sneak’s been called to drive. He’s even being picked by the establishment‘s boss lady. I miserably have another opportunity to work alone. (sad)rattlers taken, cereal eatened, chores done, I was on the road for the shop.
That old ‘88 Cheby’s the most miserable contrivance to ever been engineered to suffer the individual delegated to work upon it, me. One recipient nearly a decade older, the other recipient a near decade older, my looking foreword to some easier wrenching when I get to either them two. Such an infernal rust bucket. Every other nut’r’bolt seized up tighter than a witches grip on a tender child. Add to my slown wrenching misery my mind was near totally useless. Uncountable the mental lapses I thought I knew what I was doing wasn‘t conducive to making any speedy headway. An afternoon lunch and respite my return to the shop found me getting sick of sorts midway through the afternoon. I put in the rest of my wrenching time laying on my back under Ol’ Blue taking the exhaust pipes apart. Sicker still I moved outside to be freshened in a snow squall while I filled a dozen two quart plastic bottles with liquid woodstove kindling (used crankcase oil). If I’m a lazy cold morning fire builder liquid kindling makes for a much faster house warming fire starter. Bottles filled what were handy with all the dirty oils I had to fill them, that mess cleaned Up I joined Bro’ unwrapping more baked goods. That was until I had to get it home while I could still see.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I’ve a full itinerary laid out for tomorrow. I don’t know how I’ll make all my rounds and be back for planking Her Mosrtess’s along with my own derriere in Doc’s called office commanded appearance. It’ll be a wonder should I see some of Ol’ blue tomorrow. This is all of this for now. I’ve two travelin’ lists to make for tomorrow and next Tuesday.
“Rainbows.”
Fernan