Thursday, November 3, 2011

It had finally come….

….to pass. Yes! That is what I had written! “It had finally come to pass!” I have eaten my very first soup with my fingers this evening. It seems while I was down to the barn putting in some more time on that cussed back service door, Her Mostess, was busily stewing a chicken. It had also come to pass she had simply added an assortment of fresh vegetables needing cooking them to make them edible-ly chewy, to wit she had also added some varied other assorted leftover (shall I say) veggies. Even though these assorted morsels were put together in salads with an odd number of ingredients strangers to this soup, or any soup for that matter, the finished pot come out tasting rather good.
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Okay, as I’ve written, I spent my morning down at the barn working over a back door. Having gone as far as I could by noon, I had them put lunch away to fill der belly out. After that, I hit the road for the shop. There I gathered up those materials I thought necessary to complete my project. Them from there on I went over to the Crossroads for more materials from the loco hardware store. Everything I needed in glass jars from the shop and paper bags from the hardware, stopping back by the shop I had let myself be drafted as a part time gopher. The other parts of my time I pocked around under Dumpy’s hood testing the impedance of each ignition wire. Finding them all checking out good I still traded one-shorty off for one-longer out a back wall pigeon hole. All the ignition wires fitting tight and feeling much more securely parked by my fingers either wanton or tender approval, I finally had the Dumpy truck running like a top. (hahahohohehe) I had managed to make fix satisfactorily in my fashion rather than stooping to the combined suggestions between Tom & Bro’. I wish they’d stick to bumbling there own projects than involving me in their flaky ideas. Speaking of which I wish Bro’d finish up the rebuilding of an Oliver hydra-drive transmission. It is badly needed in two (really three) of the Oliver tractors sitting out the Winter here before next Spring‘s use.
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Well, I guess this is enough of this chatter this evening. It’s way past my bedtime. I’ve got to turn it in.
“Rainbows.”
Fernan

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