What a day

I was off and running I don’t know when, having so much to do this day. I had to grind feed and had no grain. Go the idea? I was behind all day. 2150 was going to be in need of fuel this morning and my fuel hose couldn’t reach the tractor. I had to make some accessory adjustments to my field fueling tank with a four foot pipe wrench. Before that I needed to gas Ugly and pick up a package for Handy. Just settling in for an hour tops I was about to work on portable fuel tank. Bro’ comes along he’s going to hay his ladies.
Good job, he managed to let all his ladies out not once, not twice, but three times. I had untangled wire, made a gate repair and fixed three breaks in a fence. There were moments I had thought I’d never get away from there and moved on. I had to grab the empty feed wagon if I could get away. For my next trick I had to find a way to re-supply the shelled corn. On the road I pass Tom scratching his head in the field he was supposed to be working. The 2150 had likely stalled again. Just as important he needed the fuel I carried. I kept right on going past to drop the box to comeback freer to be more mobile to fuel the 2150. Tom fueled 2150 running I was on the road again to pick up another box for bringing home the grind’s supplies. Six guy’s elevator about to shut down for rebuild I guess I’ll be hauling in a wagon or two corn each day the next couple days. More shyt piled on my shoulders. The wagon loaded it was around the block for a weigh slip and supplements. Returning home it was time to catch up on a postponed lunch.
After dinner going down to the barn for the grinder-mixer I found a raccoon had been in the barn tearing things up. Wonderful! More on it later. I set machinery, got the grind going, commenced to pour the supplements into the supplement hopper, The fifth bag nearly taking me down. Why today? Why today had my right leg decide about a dozen time to let me down. I had been using a cane earlier for some extra support. Try to use a can while carrying a raccoon torn open feed sack. I’m going to get that sucker!
The ladies hayed, tools put away I was back on the road going down to spot park the feed wagon. Passing the field, Tom gone I knew where I’d find him. The ground feed taken care Tom had parked the tillage equipment in front the shop. I backed as close as I could for more tire pieces to put in tomorrow’s trash pick-up. My wants looked after I sat down for three things: a breather, a smoke, and a heaping cup coffee. Sitting there that cussed troublesome tractor in front of us My curiosity finally got to me. A couple wrenches I was trying to take that priming pump apart where it was bolted to the distributor pump. Messing with it, fumbling with it I finally figured out what wasn’t in the “book (books) of instructions.” The seal in/on that primer pump was an external seal. A simple assed ‘O’ring. Tom swore it’d take one his suggested size. Okay I let him go, joining him a moment later with my selection. His didn’t work though it was worth trying. Mine was perfect. We’d finally figured out the way to seal out the entry of air into the fuel system. Whhoooppppeeeee! The 2150 cured, so to speck, has got to be a better runner from here on out. By this time I was ready for quit. Taking Tom home, and Handy brought the Cushman back. I managed a few moments to down my rattlers and it was back out side I’d gone.
The last calf hadn’t been weighed. She needed her tattoo, and a bright yellow tag fashion pierced in her ear. And, the calf’s mother required cleaning out. Then blood samples were drawn form the mama cow and papa bull of the deformed calf born the other day, and I printed out two pictures the same calf. All this material goes into an envelope tomorrow for the university veterinarian’s clinic for analyzing? What’ll be found if anything may have a bearing upon these two animals their immediate near futures? We’ll see? BGKC.
Fernan