The Useful Duck!

Contribute to my Vacation, please...

Friday, November 25, 2016

Our farm is a lake

My daughter and I went kayaking on our farm this afternoon. I'm thinking we won't be combining Sudan grass. Don't think it is there anymore.

Sunday, November 20, 2016

Bake Chopper vs Silage chopper for chopping hay

I have a Goossen bale chopper. I paid way too much money for it. I bought it to chop hay into smaller pieces to run thorough the mixer grinder, back when I had a mixer grinder, for making pig feed.
My neighbor wants one of my old silage choppers for chopping up crappy hay for his cows.
I kind of hate to sell him a silage chopper for this purpose.
It is really dangerous. The silage chopper is mean to be towed behind a chopper to pick up hay in the field and chop it into small pieces. It has rotating metal knives which clear a shear bar by 1/32 of an inch. If you run a rock or a pitchfork or a wrench or you fall into it, the results can be rather catastrophic.
By contrast my Goossen bale chopper is made to shred a bale of straw for erosion control but it also works great on hay. It doesn't cut the hay but instead shreds it. There are no close clearances. You can't really call into it.
But, I'd like to get $2,000 out of it. You can buy a used silage chopper for $500.
Whatever...

Friday, November 11, 2016

The election of Trump strikes home. The Duck becomes stressed and his terrible breath nearly sabotages my burgeoning career as a groundskeeper

I like to have a little solitude while I eat my lunch.
I have found the secret to happiness in life is the concept of controlled access.
Thursday I was quietly minding my own business during my hour lunch break.
I was enjoying a very tasty short rib and onion sandwich skillfully crafted by my lovely and gracious wife.
I was sitting at the Groundskeeping department meeting room taking advantage of the Faculty and Staff WiFi and reading about two Confederate brothers who invented the landmine.
I was gleefully envisioning Blue Belly Yankee Devil Hillary Supporters being blown to smithereens by the evil racist rebels of the South when faint whiff of familiar stench infiltrated my senses.
 I must say the the duck did sneak up on me. I did not hear his usual gruff quack. I would qualify the announcement of his arrival as as more of an angry hiss. Obviously a sign of displeasure in the results of the recent election. At first I merely thought his arrival indicated a desire to find a safe space where he could find emotional solace through the diversity, sustainability, and inclusiveness of our department.
But, soon his foul breath had declared his evil intent. He had become overcome by the injustice of the Electoral College and its denial of the popular vote for our almost dear leader Hillary. He has succumbed to the temptations of violence and anarchy and it would not be a nonviolent protest.
I soon realized I was somewhat trapped in a unventilated space and the hands of the office clock were quickly approaching the end of the lunch hour.
If one of the groundskeeper ladies were to come into the office for some Personal Protection Equipment (PPE) they would perchance not notice the duck and blame me for the act of fowl aggression.
I beat a hasty retreat out the back door into the repair shop and headed for the golf car parking area where the smokers hang out.
No foul duck breath can compete with the aromatic essence of second hand cigarette smoke.
I paused at the doorway to survey the scene.
My supervisor was feet from the office door. I quickly ducked (but without any foul essence or quackery) back into the hallway and headed for the time clock.
I was quite relieved to hear him exclaim the name of the hispanic fellow who sits next to me. Jesus is a pretty decent guy and I hate to get him in trouble but of course, better him than I. I'm not sure why my boss used an American pronunciation of my friends name as the boss is also hispanic.
I quickly clocked in and headed back to work.
When I returned for afternoon break I found the office to be reeking of strong disinfectant. Probably the result of an accidental spill.
I am quite sure no one suspects I was the target of an evil duck whose attack on my safe space was responsible for the desecration of the meeting room.
Perhaps I should file a report with HR.

Wednesday, November 9, 2016

Oh the Humanity...

My day as a groundskeeper at a small college was both depressing and highly amusing.
I was amazed to see girls walking around weeping openly. 
The President of the college sent out a letter noting that it was truly the end of the world and we had a racist for president (but in nice polite academic terms saying you should not talk bad about people)
He noted that here was a multicultural lounge where students could get together and hug and say bad things about Republicans.
My work study student seemed pretty upset but she is not the crying type. She stopped to talk to me on the way to class. I told her to dump the Maya Angelo crap and stop feeling sorry for herself and I gave her Rudyard Kipling's "If" but didn't tell her it was Rudyard Kipling. She found encouragement from "If" and gave me a bad of chips from the Safe Space Lounge.
At break we heard updates on the sad and depressed student situation. Some humor was found in the whole situation. Fellow groundskeepers and other member of the facilities staff seem to find it hard to imagine that Trump will become a dictator or send anyone to a concentration camp. Of course I do hang out with the smokers.
In the break room once of the hispanics I hang out with in the hopes he will give me food started to build something with playing cards between us. He said it was a wall. I asked if he was going to make me pay for it. He said he was building a tunnel under it. Another Hispanic fellow said it was to smuggle drugs and Chinese people.
Much hilarity ensued.
I asked them if they didn't hate Americans because they created the market for drugs which ruined their country.
They said yes, because it was the poor people like us who suffered in the rich people just got richer off the conflict.
It would've led to an interesting discussion but it was time to go to work. 
And I digress.
Outside,I got so annoyed with the whining and crying that I read "If" to a couple of my work-study students. They were quite impressed. I did not tell them the reason they had never heard of Rudyard Kipling was that their beloved academics have deemed him also a misogynist and racist. 
My main work study assistant then appeared and informed me that he Safe Space Lounge now had pizza and grape Koolaid. I noted it was quite Jonestown of them, which drew mirth from all the old folks.
We went for the pizza but it was of course just plain cheese. No one could be offended that way. There were a number of crying students. I avoided the purple drink. I had another bag of chips.
We went back to work.
I am a bit amazed at the utter despair of the Clinton supporters. I see they are being whipped into a frenzy by the news media. I suppose the riots will continue. What ever it takes to bring us into the New World Order.
I came home and checked Facebook. One relative cried all day. Several are convinced it truly is the end of the world. It is kind of insane as Trump is not much to the right of Bill Clinton when he ran for office.
It is all how you spin it I suppose. 

And the Democrats give us Donald Trump for President

The whining and hand wringing, rivers of tears, you need waders and a raft in your favorite safe space.
But being a liberal seems to mean never being able to admit the person you choose as your dear leader is a criminal.
I plan on pointing out to a number of people that if they would have voted for the whacko most representing their beliefs in the primary and rejected Corpratist shill and criminal Hillary, Bernie Sanders might have been president. 
I voted against Hillary and it took a lot of prodding by democrats to get me to vote for Trump.
Of course now it will be four years of smarmy liberal bastards calling me a racist and a chronic misoganister and whiny progressives throwing temper tandrums in the streets...
I am not chronic, I don't have very much hair on my knuckles and my eyesight is fairly good.

Tuesday, November 8, 2016

I plant whilst Rome burns. Can't accuse me of fiddling around

I spent the evening listening to Nation Public Radio and planting Triticale.
I came home and took a shower and discovered Trump was almost certainly president of the USA. It sounds as if the Clinton Crime Syndicate would have to get quite a few More dead people to vote to bridge the gap.
But... They are trying.
Podesta came out to say it is not over.
Pretty funny...
The democrats are already crying racism, bigotry, homophobia, and note that the sky is falling.
They don't stop and realize that if they would not have sold their soul to party unity and realized that Hillary Clinton is not just a harmless old lady who happened to make a mistake with her email and loves puppies and accept the obvious fact that the only reason you would set up a server outside of the secure organization was so that the organization would not know what you are doing cause you want to commit crimes, would have noted that many people hate Hillary because she is a horrible person, and would have voted for the person they really wanted in the primary, people like myself would not have voted from Trump. In fact if they would have s...canned Hillary a few years ago Trump would never have been on the ticket.
Or just realize that Hispanics do not want criminals following them to the USA because that is one of the reasons they left Mexico.
But then most liberals I know have not spent extended periods of time doing hard manual labor with Mexicans either. They just sit back and lecture me about my white privilege. I didn't see any of them out planting at 10:30 pm this evening.

Not that I'm saying I think Trump is actually capable of running the country but then the sad thing is, I don't care.

Sunday, November 6, 2016

And America becomes the most powerful Banana Republic in the World...

Beyonce performed at the CMA awards and The Clinton Crime Syndicate will take office.
On the slim chance the CCS doesn't take power the Donald train wreck will attract all the loony lefties and it will be endless opposition from the shrill classes.
Exponentially worse than the end of the Jimmy Carter era as there is no charismatic leader to pull the country back together.
The United States will continue as the bully nation of the world, refusing to help anyone who doesn't subscribe to our idiotic shizophrenic dual values of Tin Hat Democracy, promotion of pseudo gay rights, abortion, and the rights of corporations vs supporting radical Islam all at the same time.
Absolutely never ever in my wildest dreams would I imagine that one could even imagine that Russia would possibly lean towards being on the right side...
But yet...

Those Ruskies would NEVER let Beyonce on stage at the Country Music Awards. Never!!!

And... You idiots...
Hillary had her own server so she could sell influence, make back room deals, delete emails, do whatever she wanted without archiving it all in the Federal Gubment. No Freedom of Information Act BS would derail her train of corruption and graft. She learned from the Nixon Tapes, didn't she not?
Honestly, what is the other option? She is an idiot?
So stop posting those stupid Facebook memes which build up Trump as a monster and Hillary as a little old lady confused about her email.

You finally convinced me to vote for the moron...

Tuesday, November 1, 2016

A post Halloween scare



Leon Payne was a country songwriter back in the days when there was such a thing as country music. He wrote such classics as "Lost Highway" for Hank Williams Sr. and "Psycho" for Eddie Noack.

Needless to say, the song was banned by Country Stations...

I first became acquainted with the song through the Roundup Records catalogue to which I used to subscribe.
It was redone by the "Beasts of Bourbon" on the album titled, "Axeman's Jazz." I bought the album because Marty Robbins had just died and Roundup Records said the song "The Day Marty Robbins Died," was an excellent song. It featured the lyric, "My house got divorced, and my pigs, they all cried, my Big Iron won't fire no more cause today Marty Robbins died."
I was young and impressionable and had to have the album.

Of course the real scare is the presidential race. You should look up the wikileaks emails. I'd link but I didn't finish my blog before it was time to go to work and I'm using my iPhone.

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