Camping

Yesterday I was stacking, it was hot and it was a big field. The daughter was running the rake with a tractor that the a/c had failed.

I was itching like crazy from the fiberglass insulation I stuck my upper torso into whilst fixing a broken waterline under the house that morning.

I get a text from a friend asking me if I want to go

"Hey, wanna join me summitting and glissading down Mt. Adams this evening?"

I have no idea what those fancy big words mean but I get excited.

I got my friend to promise to help stack, I called my chicken friend to help in some way, and he says, do you have any idea what you are getting yourself into.

I inquire further:

"Would head up to trailhead and arrive by 4:00. Hike up to 7000' and camp. Wake up about 4 or 5 in the morning, summit, slide down."

I suggested to lulu we just camp at our own river.

Now you all have unlimited wifi and I'm setting on log next to an unconvincing fire trying to cry steaks in my castiron pan, and I'm using up my bonus gigabyte blogging...

You-all tell me if Lulu and almost 50-year old me are ready to climb Adams.

Pretty funny if you look it all up!

 

Only in Oregon, Morons shoot cow, beached whales

I have nothing to say.

It is hot and I overslept...

I noticed that cops are not that great at handling livestock. Provoking the suspect into freaking out so you can shoot em is not the best policy when dealing with an angry angus. I bet the cow's owner actually said, "Shoot me, I can't take it any more," after watching all the people shouting and freaking out his cow, and the officer just misunderstood.

No time to step back and rattle a grain pan or grab a bale of alfalfa or call scooter boy it was a crisis!

Somehow, naked goddesses swimming at the beach does not really appeal to me.... I have seen a lot of Oregon women who think they are goddesses and well, I just hope Captain Ahab doesn't show up cause there will be more than one Great White....

A huge thunderstorm

It wasn't the loud thunder that woke me it was the smell of wet dog.
The farm dog whose name is not Stanley was standing next to my bed looking at me.
He went through the screen door.
I was still half asleep.
I put him back out and shut the slider.
I forgot about the main door.
I went back to bed.
When the next bout of thunder hit I woke up to whining.
From the dog...
Next to my bed...
There went the other screen door...
Then it poured.
I should have picked up bales last night.
I should have put the grain in the barn.
I should have put the mixer grinder in the barn.
There are big mud puddles, this can't be good.

Raking with a pickup truck

We had an inch of rain of rain last week. It went from 90 degrees to rain, to back to 90 degrees. Sort of odd for Oregon.
The straw is turning yellow.
I've been having a bit of trouble getting stuff done.
Lots of talking, lots of little things that don't work.
Saturday I attempted to grind feed.
I have five customers demanding feed.
It is sort of difficult to get the peas out of a tipped over grain tank.
Mid afternoon people started calling me to see if I'd tedded (fluffed) the grass straw I'm going to bale.
I ran the fluffer on our fields at home it is a wide awkward thing to haul down the highway and I figured they got less rain on the other side of the hill.
At five p.m. I decided I had to do it.
The tedder/fluffer that I was using does two windrows at one. It has a number of rake wheels on a wide frame. The wheels are set at a slight angle and the frame is straight across the windrow, rather than at a steep angle like a wheel rake. The wheels lift up the hay and as you go faster it also kind of spreads it.
It is 16 feet wide and the wheels are set wide apart. It is a pain to pull down the highway.
On the other hand, you can do 25 acres an hour.

Sunday Lulu and I went to Antique Powerland. We went early for church. They should have turned down the gain for "Jesus is the one and only", a little distortion on that one, but a good effort.  We spent the whole day. Didn't win a free bicycle. Listened to Southern Nights put on a country western show. Funny to see a bar band in broad daylight... No banjos...

Now it is back to work. Looking forward to that 90 degree weather and thousands of straw bales to stack...

Picking up apples killed my uncle!

I figured it out!
Uncle H, was in great shape Saturday. We were fixing a waterline. He didn't feel like digging the hole and asked me to help. It was 90 degrees.
Later we had coffee time and then he cut some steel for a customer.
He was doing fine!
Then he decided to go home and pick up apples.
Now I've watched Hercule Perot and Inspector Morse, and White Collar and I know a clue when I see it.
I figure it was either aliens or apples.
I did not see any aliens so it had to be them apples.
How about them apples!
Apples killed my uncle!

Here are some photos from the last couple years...
I'm gonna go have something with corn syrup and wheat gluten. Perhaps I'll lock my dog in the car for a while...

Edit: Uncle H, did not want his photo on the internet. What happens? He dies and it is everywhere. Didn't even put the censor bar across his eyes. I swear (or rather, I affirm) I'm going get a phone call from him and he is going to tell me to take his photo down. I'm going to be like, "but my brother did it! Your grand daughter did it! They ain't gonna listen to me, have Aunt Elsie tell them!"
(Not that anything like that has ever happened before...)

The End of an Era....

My uncle died Sunday, or perhaps it was Saturday night.
He had been picking up apples in his back yard. He was in his slippers. There was a bucket of apples at his feet.
He sat down in the porch swing and looked like he decided to take a nap.
He was 87 years old.
My aunt couldn't get him to wake up when she found him Sunday Morning. Looked like she got him a comforter just in case he was just sleeping.

So, who will tell me to answer my phone, not track mud in front of the shop, tell me not to borrow money for any foolhardy ventures, not smoke chronic, or use regional idioms, like exclaiming: "What in the Sam Hill is going on here?!"
In a month will we have turned the store into a pot dispensary and will we all be sitting around eating Doritos  and listening to Peter Tosh surrounded by misplaced tools and mud from the irrigation tractors?
Will someone use real floor dry instead of 20 year old sawdust out of dad's basement?
Will I have borrowed $5 million to start an industrial hemp facility?
Time will tell...
One thing I know, I am not the man my father was, nor my uncle.
Perhaps, I will have to grow up now.

I got the level app for my iphone

I discovered that when running a New Holland 1085 stacker side hill. The point when bales start sliding of the  second table is 36-37 degrees of tilt. At 38 degrees I stopped looking at the level app and started wondering if it was getting a little tippy. Slightly thereafter I discovered that one's butt cheek muscles will actually grip your new air-ride seat. I didn't get to the point where I had to turn down hill but it was interesting.

(I posted using the blogger app on my iphone and I couldn't figure out how to rotate the photo. Perhaps you could rotate your computer?)

The view was quite nice. Kind of warm out...