It is 8 a.m. Saturday morning.
A very nice pickup pulled into the driveway slowly and pulled up to the shop.
A few minutes later my uncle called me.
Someone here to see me....
Why is my uncle at work at 8 a.m.? He is 86, or so...?
Now a flatbed truck is outside the barn waiting for hay...
I think I will go poop...
Sometimes I hate living on the farm.
Where is my brother? He is the friendly one...
Edit at 9:30 Friday morning: Apparently it is not Saturday morning. It is Friday morning! Somehow I decided it was Saturday because the clothes dryer failed, my wife's pickup has some strange problem with the electronics or fuel injection or some other weird and unnatural modern technology. If the Good Lord would have wanted us to have fuel injection and computerized automobiles He would have never given us the model T Ford.
Those are all things which fail on the weekend when there is no hope of getting parts. Perhaps it is a holiday today...
So, I had a seed salesman who waited for an hour to not convince me to plant 100 acres of fescue and who didn't give me a free hat, my brother's customer who got 40 bales of hay and didn't like the alfalfa he bought from us in June. (140lb bales and some were wet-which means that my little helper was NOT looking at the moisture tester which has a sensor installed IN THE BALE CHAMBER OF THE BALER)
Then Schooter Boy showed up and needed to talk. I think this has something to do with the Glouster Old Spots that I am investing in for a young farmer. Scooter Boy was a little twitchy this morning and when I asked him to meet me at the shop (where I was going to talk to the seed salesman) he backed into a large piece of farm equipment with his little boxy car. I heard a loud crunching sound but I didn't turn around...
And now, my wife has driven off to Eugene as the pickup actually started up and ran, I yelled after her, "you got your triple A card," and she responded, "of course!"
The daughter looked a little unnerved. The daughter often has a somewhat bemused look on her face. I think she knows something we don't.
I see there are little post-it notes around the house explaining how to use the microwave, there is a porkchop defrosting, another post it note on a box of shredded wheat, and I think this means the family will be gone at least a day.
Perhaps I should read the post-it notes. Probably important information contained there in.
The joy of a random life!!!!
Update number 2: Jack's BBQ is closed till Monday, this means I can't put the food back in the freezer and just eat BBQ. I will actually have to cook. People are coming after hay and feed and hay and I'm supposed to pick up the clover concaves or grates or whatever you call them for the 1480 IH combine I bought off the back lot at the local IH dealer. (One step removed from the scrapyard)
And Now my wife's pickup is not running and I am going to have to go get her.
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It's a conspiracy.
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