9-22-o9 It’s hot and……

….a sweaty night waking me up at about midnight. It can not be 60* in this yet my body has collected all the airs humidity and made me a slippery sweaty mess.. Even my eyes are full of water as if they were mountain pools waiting to satisfy a wild beasts thirst. But, alas there’ll be no wild beast pleasurably climbing this mountain of what was once an object of many a quests. (sigh)
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9-21-o9 Yesterday, must have been a n accomplished workday. Coming evening last evening's Frieda asked me what I been doing. I honestly couldn’t tell her and she understood. Here it is 12:45 AM in the morning and I’m trying to find my own explanation. I don’t want this writing suggesting I’m loosing it albeit that could well be the case regardless.
I was asked early on yesterday’s morning to work upon the Polaris Ranger; only, by the time Ray and Tom bellied up to the ranger there wasn’t any room left for me. Bottom line Ray just wanted standby company. I call all of us entrapped by his cantankerous charm and wit, babysitter’s.
(Feeling as if the term Bro’ inadequate I’ve decided to give him a name liking some of the rest of us with those so apply nicknamed after the occupations in their real lives. So Bro’ will hence forth be known form journal entries as Ray.)
Getting back to what I didn’t do all day yesterday. Caught by Ray I wound-up caught in shop duty. To take the bit out of it I brought the hay wagon up for working on. The spindles still continue to stick and squeak agonizing noises. One side took grease, the other I liberally doused plenty of diesel fuel over the top of it in hopes some of that fuel oil would work it’s way down between the kingpin and carrier. The rear gate Tom and I gave plenty of attention. First taking it apart. Nuts and bolts refusing to come apart Tom eventually cut them off. Holes worn so sloppy standard washers were of little help for re-tightening new bolts for reassembly. I hit the scrap iron pile way out back bringing up a frame what was once the underside of a motor vehicle seat and commenced to run it through the metal cutting band-saw. Drilled some appropriate holes and used whole chunks of otherwise useless junk for some imaginative washers. Yeah, I should of taken a picture. I filled one of our otherwise thrown away dish soap bottles with clean questionable oils drained from various projects. The bottle clear coming with a closeable cap will work out well as an implement chain oiling bottle. Being clear the oil level is clearly visible throughout the use of the bottle until next times refilling One implement bottle done, at least three more bottles improvement to go. I eventually did what I usually do after a project, I cleaned up after myself and only more so after everybody else. Half the contents of two rolling tool chests heaped upon a half a sheet of plywood laying on a pair of sawhorses was first. I sorted salvageable implement parts managing to put some of them away for next time’s use. I must have cleared off a couple cluttered surfaces twice as I’d just get one cleaned up and somebody come along dumping can of assorted washers on it. Another time it was someone needing a fine threaded nut from the fine threaded nuts and bolts can. Another gallon can of washers was also involved in another dumping and cleaning up.
The wagon nearer ready to go, still needing a proper wheel and tire I used it loading up a few things needed down the road. Another hay feeder for here. A couple planks Keith got out a couple years ago un-put away, At least one pallet to start stacking my winter fire wood upon. And by that time it was close enough for quitting time or so I had thought. Last trip on day’s agenda taking Tom home from where I had found him. Pulling out my driveway We spotted a truck sitting aside the road adjacent to fronting the near eastern pasture. Investigating it were Trapper throwing his garden’s sweet corn stalks over the fence. He thought my cattle rather dumb standing out by the barn watching him and not coming to eat the green tender delicacies. I explained they were behind a fence. A wire Trapper couldn’t see. I thanked (lol) trapper for his diligence making sure I continued my evening exercise opening a wire gate to let the ladies have Trapper’s garden treat. (LOL!) I had finely gotten Tom home. Some shop trash out with my trash, the planks put away. Tipped a tub on its side hopefully to keep the contents a bit drier than they had gotten in a couple wetting down-bursts coming home from Tom’s. Beside, my mind and body were running out of energy for any more yesterday’s lifting.
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Today’s a new day. I’ll wait out any prediction my adventures today’s entertainment until I’ve lived them. (hehe) Hope you’ve BGKC. From Shorthorn country.
Fernan