If some folks have followed Loopy’s suburban adventures you’ll know her husband’s name Sparky’s a high lineman for the power company. Well it had come to pass Sparky has fallen ill over a recent to long a period of time. Finally he has had surgery and has returned home under the loving care of his lovely wife, Loopy. Now let me add further Loopy has had her share of pain and surgery the last overwhelming number of months to have an old having kicked Sparky acquired knee a injury… Would I lie? (This last one, I did!) Back to the more truthful part of my story. Yesterday morning in our passing Loopy acres seeing doors open Fillip and I’ve stopped to spread around our words of compassion and encouragement. Yesterday morning seeing the barn door open We quietly road Cushman right under Loopy’s nose and found Sparky working on a pump motor in his barn shop. Interestingly enough Sparky having finally accepted the word of a higher law (Loopy) all the time I was there chi-chatting with Sparky he was continually looking over his shoulder to the larger front barn door way as well as checking the barn’s backside service sized door. Careful he was watching out for his Mrs.‘s not to catch him doing anything he hadn’t aught to be doing.
Fillip and I having had some success’s of our own when late afternoon had started rolling over us Fillip and I stopped again. This time we saw Loopy out and about already mowing her lawn. The Smart alec-ed lady’s first comment her tractor was cleaner than my Cushman. Humpht! She could have gone all week without having said that. Anyway, Loopy having driven he JD along side my ride I noticed she had with her wicked-wicked cane. Ha ha, Sparky I knew had been on his best behavior. Loopy had it down pat. A few days ago she had read Spark the riot act and since continued to carry it a big stick. This is my story and I’m sticking to it. ROFLMAO!
…..as for this writing, the devil had made me do-it. Besides, I’m thimken, I owe Loopy one…..
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Holy Frost bite Snowman:
It it was was cold cold cold this AM. Steppen outside to gather up and put on a shirt I had taken off yesterday afternoon. Holy Frost bite, I near froze the ends of my fingers off. I wasn’t outside long nor had walked far. I was rat back in for my Winter barnyard tuxedo. I needed warmth. As far as that goes, I see a cheery fire in our woodstove’s future before the day’s done.
While we just barely missed a frost in Shorthorn country we’re expecting an even colder night tonight ans a sure fired coating of frost all over our country side. There’ll go the blossoms and this year’s fruit crops. Western Michigan’s great lake front may survive if those fruit producers are on the ball. It looks like a smudge pot morning coming on after midnight. Fans and irrigation can also be affective.
Smudge-pots to create air movement so’s frost may not set. Fans, windmills, orchard sprayer fans to keep still airs moving , again denying the frost to set. Irrigation to put a 32*F ice coating upon the blossoms and forming fruit. At 32* a medium temperature ice shields the crop’s budding from being frozen colder for its below 32*F the damage is done.
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In about 7:00PM it had been a full day. Fillip and I had managed do some running, everything sans a truck. We tractored it the whole day. We’d gathered together everything we needed for a successful grind. We had tractors running all over the place, or so it seemed. After the early essentials were taken care of we managed to arrange two forage choppers in a handier environment for scrapping preparation. Moving enough other equipment we even managed to drag out an all steel forage wagon more’r’less having presumably worn out (out lived) its usefulness. Freed of the proverbial fence line hold what had been on it, theoretically shown the light of day, it had suddenly imaginatively changed useful occupations twice in one day from its original conception. I was seriously thinking of filling it with loose scrap for one grand exodus to a recycling center. Bro’ seeing in its new found freedom imagined it as a reborn calf shelter. Hmmmm, maybe not such bad idea. Remove and scrap the machinery, take it off its running gear, walla sitting on the ground it could well look like a new era 21 century shed. The running gear freed could serve us well turned into another more useful hay wagon. By the time we had returned home some dreamed progresses have been made.
Here our own chores really needing doing it was after 7:00PM before my settling in. An hour and a half later, fed, belly comfortably filled, to sleepy to finish this I simply slipped off into a horizontal mode not remembering the exact moment sleep had taken me over.
While it is now the morning after, at about those moments I had given up my day, Fillip had remarked we’d gotten a lot done even to seemingly my making it a fuller day when my wall had come-up hitting me head on.
“Rainbows.”
Fernan
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