"Youth is the gift of nature, but age is a work of art." Stanislaw Lec
~~~~~~~~~~
We were supposed to have used two mowing machines, yesterday. I was supposed to start out first with a small ill-shaped ten acre turn-around piece. Bro’ was supposed to move onto second field breaking it in ahead of us both mowing parallel to but toward each other to finish the field in an easy time. Yeah right.
Taking off with the old mower-conditioner for the ten acres, I found the first round still wet with dew before 1:00PM. Called Bro’ with my finding, went to lunch. Went back to mowing ten acres at 2:00PM. Mower started squealing. No, no, no, I knew what it was. There was but one bearing in the whole machine what made that noise. No, no, no, it could not be. Halfway through the third field braking round a drive chain had came off. That machine was done. I traded it for the new rotary-conditioner. The ten acres started earlier I had to finish it before moving on.
Going onto the second field we were both supposed to mow together I started alone breaking it in continuing on alone. About the time it were between afternoon and evening I needed a break. Getting ride back to shop for Ugly. Ugly and I picked up Handy, and we all went to super market. Bro was already there. Seeing him was interesting three guys picking up the groceries the need to eat, and buying gas down the street, the shopping spree short was over. Getting back I took up mowing from where I had left off and did so until the magic hour the evening dew had set in. Bummer, It turned out not to be the mowing ending I had seen us plan. I was all done with but eight acres to go.
Home with daylight to spare I bottled the calf and grained the mama cow. Coming in I grabbed a beer. Remembering the laundry I had tended twice already I put it in to dry. Then the beer tasted oh so good it getting dark before I had finished it along with my supper.
And my healing hand, having favored it all day on the tractors steering wheel, it is now sorer than all cramping Hell at 5:00AM this very morning. The swelling havin’ gone down it is still a bit sore and still not all that comfortable to try and squeeze and rub the cramps out of it. Uuu eee, ahah tig tang alala walla big bang, I is hurting. Not the kind of hurting enough for a valium and to early for another beer to close to the last, I guess I’ll think about all the terrific sex we enjoyed in the past. Uh, la la!
Thursday is going to be longer hay day. BGKC.
Fernan
Friday, August 14, 2009
8-12-o9 A-Okay back to farming
Got fog here also. Okay for tractor speeds. The kind what worry's how fast's the guy driven behind me? Durn fog, I haven't located my cup yet.
Got a few joints to grease, a couple chains to oil, and I'll be cutting 26 1/2 acres by about 1:00 PM. Brought the old mower-conditioner out for the second cuts. I shouldn't need a face mask today cutting lovely green alfalfa. Balling dust could be another matter in a couple days.
Hand's doing okay. Need to wear a glove to protect from dirt and grim. Need wear gloves to protect hide from sun anyway. so, no big deal anymore, only…….
I’m planning me a great day…..
Fernan
Got a few joints to grease, a couple chains to oil, and I'll be cutting 26 1/2 acres by about 1:00 PM. Brought the old mower-conditioner out for the second cuts. I shouldn't need a face mask today cutting lovely green alfalfa. Balling dust could be another matter in a couple days.
Hand's doing okay. Need to wear a glove to protect from dirt and grim. Need wear gloves to protect hide from sun anyway. so, no big deal anymore, only…….
I’m planning me a great day…..
Fernan
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
My makeup am what I am
Good Gosh, The one great thing about the internet these days is in all available help and direction offered from so many directions of the compass to include philosophical, mechanical and most importantly people person to person. We're so blessed if we should open our minds, let us open our hearts to all the well beings.
Let me speak a minute moment about myself. When I suffer loss or the inability to openly help out-wardly I tend to withdraw for the inability to express myself(?), my feelings(?), my heart. A word may suggest a common sense environmental, or animal injustice and my ire may be lifted then my heart opens for speaking upon issues what can not be spoken for themselves.
I'm far from perfect and am as I am. It may go all the way back to my inability to understand my school lessons, particularly reading and writing. The good and bad in my personality's problems might have been born and polished by the seat of my pants on an oak bench I think was set in a hallway across from the principals office for a being such as myself who innocently suffered still an unnamed dyslectic kid.
What most I learned in that fifty and over student to teacher and crowded school, I'd never be bigoted to another human being reversably learned the beaten and stomped treatment I suffered for having the furor's sir name during WWII's war torn years. So, keeping the whole world’s population in prospective; regardless, a man’s color or creed we all bleed red and dream under the same blue sky…
Called after my son a couple times today before getting him on a land line. He sounds terrible. Two doctors differ in treatment. One wants him well cleaned out for another colonoscopy. The second physician wants to feed him a soft food diet and build some strength in him first. Lastly, and in my mind, the best yet a Psychiatrist. This kid has had a need to have his head examined for years.
The rest of our children along with us, shudder whenever it is announced they’re coming for a visit. That means either locking everything up or nailing it down. My DIL is lite fingered as Hell. She’s had the nerve to go through our rooms, drawers, picking up this’n’that and having the nerve to wear it her next visit to one of our homes. And if this isn’t already bad enough her churchy mother thinks her daughter’s misunderstood by the rest of us. It is one tough situation.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Put in some late afternoon shop time. One bringing attention to a fork lift implement. Secondly I parked an 1850 in need a couple hours brake cleaning work. Thirdly I brought the old mower-conditioner out of the weeds to service for second cutting hay tomorrow Weather man says we got four days. That means 26 ½ acres are getting cut tomorrow.
~~~~~~~~~~
My hand worked reasonably well today. I’ve got three fingers and the thumb working. And, keeping the little fingers out of the way of any contact on anything, ouee…. BGKC.
Fernan
Let me speak a minute moment about myself. When I suffer loss or the inability to openly help out-wardly I tend to withdraw for the inability to express myself(?), my feelings(?), my heart. A word may suggest a common sense environmental, or animal injustice and my ire may be lifted then my heart opens for speaking upon issues what can not be spoken for themselves.
I'm far from perfect and am as I am. It may go all the way back to my inability to understand my school lessons, particularly reading and writing. The good and bad in my personality's problems might have been born and polished by the seat of my pants on an oak bench I think was set in a hallway across from the principals office for a being such as myself who innocently suffered still an unnamed dyslectic kid.
What most I learned in that fifty and over student to teacher and crowded school, I'd never be bigoted to another human being reversably learned the beaten and stomped treatment I suffered for having the furor's sir name during WWII's war torn years. So, keeping the whole world’s population in prospective; regardless, a man’s color or creed we all bleed red and dream under the same blue sky…
Called after my son a couple times today before getting him on a land line. He sounds terrible. Two doctors differ in treatment. One wants him well cleaned out for another colonoscopy. The second physician wants to feed him a soft food diet and build some strength in him first. Lastly, and in my mind, the best yet a Psychiatrist. This kid has had a need to have his head examined for years.
The rest of our children along with us, shudder whenever it is announced they’re coming for a visit. That means either locking everything up or nailing it down. My DIL is lite fingered as Hell. She’s had the nerve to go through our rooms, drawers, picking up this’n’that and having the nerve to wear it her next visit to one of our homes. And if this isn’t already bad enough her churchy mother thinks her daughter’s misunderstood by the rest of us. It is one tough situation.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Put in some late afternoon shop time. One bringing attention to a fork lift implement. Secondly I parked an 1850 in need a couple hours brake cleaning work. Thirdly I brought the old mower-conditioner out of the weeds to service for second cutting hay tomorrow Weather man says we got four days. That means 26 ½ acres are getting cut tomorrow.
~~~~~~~~~~
My hand worked reasonably well today. I’ve got three fingers and the thumb working. And, keeping the little fingers out of the way of any contact on anything, ouee…. BGKC.
Fernan
Monday, August 10, 2009
Did you ever….
“Ever wonder where the daylight sparkle in your head light went when a cop has pulled you over to tell your headlight’s out. Personally, I have always wondered where it went?”
And, I don’t want anybody telling me not to get philosophical these warm weathered days. Save it for under the snow.
My rebuttal! What’s a guy to do nursing an infected wing he don’t want to get dirt in all the ventilating holes he’s had punctured a dog’s hard way? So tell me!!!
~~~~~~~~~~~
Ding Dong The Bitch Is Gone
Sandy, Holly’s kennel mistress has come and taken her angel from Hell back home with her. Whew, I’m glad that’s over.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Hearing nothing of son I called his hospital today. He’s better in one way, loosing ground a couple others. I’m not sure what to think. My Hope for his recovery is my/our only option. Not making sense anymore, I had better quit. BGKC.
Fernan
And, I don’t want anybody telling me not to get philosophical these warm weathered days. Save it for under the snow.
My rebuttal! What’s a guy to do nursing an infected wing he don’t want to get dirt in all the ventilating holes he’s had punctured a dog’s hard way? So tell me!!!
~~~~~~~~~~~
Ding Dong The Bitch Is Gone
Sandy, Holly’s kennel mistress has come and taken her angel from Hell back home with her. Whew, I’m glad that’s over.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Hearing nothing of son I called his hospital today. He’s better in one way, loosing ground a couple others. I’m not sure what to think. My Hope for his recovery is my/our only option. Not making sense anymore, I had better quit. BGKC.
Fernan
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Life’s given injustices
It’s a chuckhole in life when a parent may only watch and wait out a child’s pain. It’s happened again my unable to take hat pain away from our child. While we grieved the expected losses of our parents, that was different. They’d lived their lives giving and preparing us for ours. But a child at whatever age is still a baby to a parent. Case in point, my Mom gone forty years, once more I’d like to hear her speak out to me, “My baby.” Can’t be helped there are situations we may never outgrow.
The simplest explanation I’d ever heard to the my questioned “Why?“ from a great grandfather, he had said, “After we have given you your parents, we must die to make room for you your children.” I wish there were as simple an explanation for our children’s sufferings. Thus I guess is the times given for some lives lived. I know this doesn’t lessen the pain in lives’ left to go on.
Fernan
###########
A few years back on the I-Net I read the words of one individual tagged “IDF.” Our lives so paralleled each other’s I knew and felt his every word. While he and his wife didn’t raise my numbers of children the descriptions those of his own read like mine. There were ambitions, learned good work ethics on one good side his hand; and, then the bad other side it consisted of petty larcenists, pot heads, knar do wells, laziest’s living off the dole. There were good marriages and a bad. The bad included everything included the bad other side description. Ho boy, have I got one of those, and openly blatant about it. My numbers doubling IDF’s own, that’s the way it has worked for us/myself. IDF sadly has already passed on not to witness his families further degradations‘. Me however have been blessed with an extended life span to perhaps witness some my issue going before me. Is this a blessing or a punishment?
###########
It were an almost continuous roll of thunder and lightening over Shorthorn country all night long. Still nursing my left paw. It is healing nicely. My thinking it is dragging on, it is most likely doing better than my patience can tolerate. Such is my life in the fast lane. My fast lane is walking it at eight mph anymore, my not raising to much dust at that either.
Unable to procrastinate any further into the day one of the first things I did was check the rainfall amounts poured over Shorthorn country the last 24 hours. We had received at least four and a half full inches rain water. The Goober Creek flowing through the Shorthorn barnyard is over its banks in the drive’s ford.
~~~~~~~~~~
As the day nearer’s coming to a close, my left paw has healed some more today. I’ve managed to avoid hitting anything paining with it nor experience any heavy pained hand washing moves.
The doors closed, staying in out of the heat I’ve spent some time on the internet looking for some switches and relays for making fix an old GE low voltage house wiring system I had put into the Honeymoon cottage close to some fifty years ago.
Worst part of the day has had my mind dwelling upon my son’s illness. While I can’t help loving him, I’m still aggravated with his lifestyle that has brought him to this trying stage in his life. Whatever happens, it continues to sicken me, he’s brought it all upon himself. I got to get out of this. BGKC.
Fernan
The simplest explanation I’d ever heard to the my questioned “Why?“ from a great grandfather, he had said, “After we have given you your parents, we must die to make room for you your children.” I wish there were as simple an explanation for our children’s sufferings. Thus I guess is the times given for some lives lived. I know this doesn’t lessen the pain in lives’ left to go on.
Fernan
###########
A few years back on the I-Net I read the words of one individual tagged “IDF.” Our lives so paralleled each other’s I knew and felt his every word. While he and his wife didn’t raise my numbers of children the descriptions those of his own read like mine. There were ambitions, learned good work ethics on one good side his hand; and, then the bad other side it consisted of petty larcenists, pot heads, knar do wells, laziest’s living off the dole. There were good marriages and a bad. The bad included everything included the bad other side description. Ho boy, have I got one of those, and openly blatant about it. My numbers doubling IDF’s own, that’s the way it has worked for us/myself. IDF sadly has already passed on not to witness his families further degradations‘. Me however have been blessed with an extended life span to perhaps witness some my issue going before me. Is this a blessing or a punishment?
###########
It were an almost continuous roll of thunder and lightening over Shorthorn country all night long. Still nursing my left paw. It is healing nicely. My thinking it is dragging on, it is most likely doing better than my patience can tolerate. Such is my life in the fast lane. My fast lane is walking it at eight mph anymore, my not raising to much dust at that either.
Unable to procrastinate any further into the day one of the first things I did was check the rainfall amounts poured over Shorthorn country the last 24 hours. We had received at least four and a half full inches rain water. The Goober Creek flowing through the Shorthorn barnyard is over its banks in the drive’s ford.
~~~~~~~~~~
As the day nearer’s coming to a close, my left paw has healed some more today. I’ve managed to avoid hitting anything paining with it nor experience any heavy pained hand washing moves.
The doors closed, staying in out of the heat I’ve spent some time on the internet looking for some switches and relays for making fix an old GE low voltage house wiring system I had put into the Honeymoon cottage close to some fifty years ago.
Worst part of the day has had my mind dwelling upon my son’s illness. While I can’t help loving him, I’m still aggravated with his lifestyle that has brought him to this trying stage in his life. Whatever happens, it continues to sicken me, he’s brought it all upon himself. I got to get out of this. BGKC.
Fernan
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Got tough news
Number three son in hospital in bad way. Ain’t nothing we can do for him. His compulsory hypochondriac nature is killing him. Neither one of us including the rest of brothers and sisters have ever been able to get through to him. He’s married, between himself and his wife they know more than any medicine man he’s ever been to see. He flagrantly ignores doctors orders. He’s become prescription drug dependent. He sees multiple doctors for multiple prescriptions. He has drunken enough Mountain Do Do to destroy his organs. There’s a rumor he’s about to expire via cardiac arrest. He likely started this one himself. Frieda and I have been helpless to help the kid for years and even more so these, perhaps, last days.
Meanwhile, I’m wondering how Frieda and I may travel. I can no longer be trusted behind the wheel for more than a few miles and light traffic.
Holly’s gone down the road with daughter Fillis. She’s good as gold by last reports, minding and telling Fillis when she needs to go outside. AND, she ain’t biting me. Della the cat has become a bit chummier. So, it looks like until I bring a dog home my own size and tend him around the clock we won’t have a dog. And, then it’d be a work dog.
The swelling in my left hand has gone down some. The two fingers beside the thumb have become moderately useful. I no longer need a bench vice or channel lock pliers to open my medications. Whew. BGKC.
Fernan
Meanwhile, I’m wondering how Frieda and I may travel. I can no longer be trusted behind the wheel for more than a few miles and light traffic.
Holly’s gone down the road with daughter Fillis. She’s good as gold by last reports, minding and telling Fillis when she needs to go outside. AND, she ain’t biting me. Della the cat has become a bit chummier. So, it looks like until I bring a dog home my own size and tend him around the clock we won’t have a dog. And, then it’d be a work dog.
The swelling in my left hand has gone down some. The two fingers beside the thumb have become moderately useful. I no longer need a bench vice or channel lock pliers to open my medications. Whew. BGKC.
Fernan
Friday, August 7, 2009
Slow goin’
This morning was a late slow going what lasted all day. Accomplishments as I want to chalk them up were few as I took everything on single handedly. Sheesh, loose one wing sure makes it difficult flying let alone taking off.
For starters, I spent the entire morning bent between PT, drugstore, and piled high chores. The loco barnyard standards out of the way, I was down the road to the little place in the hollow. Taking a hay bale with me (per-standard procedure) I left it at the gate Deere John and I going on alone to move the hay ring. Well, I got it moved, without emptying it out. I wanted to empty it out. Curses. Well I at least got the feeder’s bottom drags stirred up recreating new interest in the previous bales leavings. Accepting even a small accomplishment I brought in the bale I had left outside the front gate, them had a difficult time making my way back to the (moved?) hay ring (control feeder) To drop the new bale in it. The Cushman and I ran the fences prior to changing the ladies pasture. One obstacle remained. What was I going to give the continuously demanding mom in sickbay?
As I had had a brunch like breakfast having run late all morning I finally made my way to the shop. While driving I, sort of, come up with a feeding the cow hay solution. That have to be later. Meanwhile, I took up trying to fix Fillis’s lawn mower. Well I could try. What I needed was a carburetors’ gasket. Not knowing where it get one without an all day road trip I had decided to make it. A diamond shaped 1 ¼” x 2 ½” gasket with five holes in three different sizes. Was a challenge for a two handed mechinneck let alone a nixed hard and soft handed old galloot. For starters I placed and rubbed a piece of writing paper over the machined surface the gasket’d fit to establish a gasket pattern. The pattern made, I laid it over the gasket material and commenced to use varied punches to make the clean holes required for bolts, and fuel and air passages. May I say some punches were of the legitimate holt and adapted throat hole punching kind and another one a leather punch for the smaller fuel passages. I must say the repairs went rather well everything nicely going together as the machine should have previously. I dislike having to do a supposed bonafide repairman’s job over. Argh!
Having missed lunch, tiring easily, ready to come home, Bro’ comes up with a bunch of crap for me to do. I’m hungry, tired, mind slipping and his garage door opener needs a fixing. Cheese and crackers, his need is critical, only take a moment. Soooo, I’m On the ladder removing bolts in order to take the door opener’s drive down. Everything taken apart my merely needing the replacement part, it hasn’t been gotten out nor even made handy. Darn it, this ticks me off. Regardless I support the machinery while he fiddle-fumbles with what should already been out. By the end of my extended shop time, his eating up my well being we loaded out me a wagon load of hay. On that load was an even better solution to my haying the sickbay cow. Not all was lost.
Gad’s getting home I belatedly lunched. Feeling out of it I laid down for just a short nap. Over four hours later I wake sundown leaning on me. Evening chores otherwise light I still hadn’t settled the cows hay issues. Combining bottling the baby, graining mom, the cow busy I hayed her yard. All was good…except all those envious ladies outside the sickbay area demands to be let in fell upon my very selective ears paying absolutely no attention to them while I doled out the grain. (hehehehehe)
It’s late now, alls good , Shorthorn country’s at peace, my rattlers finally taken, and doctoring my injuries, I ain’t in the least missing that bitchy Holly having left us this afternoon rather than waiting until tomorrow. And, as it has worked out the Fuzzy Navel hour has closed precisely on time. BGKC.
Fernan
For starters, I spent the entire morning bent between PT, drugstore, and piled high chores. The loco barnyard standards out of the way, I was down the road to the little place in the hollow. Taking a hay bale with me (per-standard procedure) I left it at the gate Deere John and I going on alone to move the hay ring. Well, I got it moved, without emptying it out. I wanted to empty it out. Curses. Well I at least got the feeder’s bottom drags stirred up recreating new interest in the previous bales leavings. Accepting even a small accomplishment I brought in the bale I had left outside the front gate, them had a difficult time making my way back to the (moved?) hay ring (control feeder) To drop the new bale in it. The Cushman and I ran the fences prior to changing the ladies pasture. One obstacle remained. What was I going to give the continuously demanding mom in sickbay?
As I had had a brunch like breakfast having run late all morning I finally made my way to the shop. While driving I, sort of, come up with a feeding the cow hay solution. That have to be later. Meanwhile, I took up trying to fix Fillis’s lawn mower. Well I could try. What I needed was a carburetors’ gasket. Not knowing where it get one without an all day road trip I had decided to make it. A diamond shaped 1 ¼” x 2 ½” gasket with five holes in three different sizes. Was a challenge for a two handed mechinneck let alone a nixed hard and soft handed old galloot. For starters I placed and rubbed a piece of writing paper over the machined surface the gasket’d fit to establish a gasket pattern. The pattern made, I laid it over the gasket material and commenced to use varied punches to make the clean holes required for bolts, and fuel and air passages. May I say some punches were of the legitimate holt and adapted throat hole punching kind and another one a leather punch for the smaller fuel passages. I must say the repairs went rather well everything nicely going together as the machine should have previously. I dislike having to do a supposed bonafide repairman’s job over. Argh!
Having missed lunch, tiring easily, ready to come home, Bro’ comes up with a bunch of crap for me to do. I’m hungry, tired, mind slipping and his garage door opener needs a fixing. Cheese and crackers, his need is critical, only take a moment. Soooo, I’m On the ladder removing bolts in order to take the door opener’s drive down. Everything taken apart my merely needing the replacement part, it hasn’t been gotten out nor even made handy. Darn it, this ticks me off. Regardless I support the machinery while he fiddle-fumbles with what should already been out. By the end of my extended shop time, his eating up my well being we loaded out me a wagon load of hay. On that load was an even better solution to my haying the sickbay cow. Not all was lost.
Gad’s getting home I belatedly lunched. Feeling out of it I laid down for just a short nap. Over four hours later I wake sundown leaning on me. Evening chores otherwise light I still hadn’t settled the cows hay issues. Combining bottling the baby, graining mom, the cow busy I hayed her yard. All was good…except all those envious ladies outside the sickbay area demands to be let in fell upon my very selective ears paying absolutely no attention to them while I doled out the grain. (hehehehehe)
It’s late now, alls good , Shorthorn country’s at peace, my rattlers finally taken, and doctoring my injuries, I ain’t in the least missing that bitchy Holly having left us this afternoon rather than waiting until tomorrow. And, as it has worked out the Fuzzy Navel hour has closed precisely on time. BGKC.
Fernan
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)