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Posted by Fern(Mi) on September 17, 2004 at 18:13:46 from (22.214.171.124):
9-17-o4 Ashes to Ashes
Woke up to grain grinding day. Found out just as soon as I started the chores. Odd how I know when something runs out. My bucket didnít look like it were about to runith over! Then there was only enough corn to grind a half batch.
Grinding equipment drawn out of the barn the way was opened to park away the halige baler for the winter. Then the front-yards Work Horse tractor occupying the balerís space refused to start. A battery charge and lunchís leftovers later. Progress was well within the light of day. One baler away. On more to go.
Hooking up to the bigger dry hay baler I moved it on down the road for itís winter occupancy in another shed. Iíll get to that another day, trading seating for still another tractor and the turd hearse bringing it home for cleaning up the piled refuse thatís been bothering me in the middle of the barnís floor. First though I decided to empty out seven bushels of last winterís wood stove ashes that had been setting around in the front yard. Pleasant enough task if the wind werenít changing direction all afternoon; but, continued on just the same looking something ghoulish having misplaced Halloween before I had finished.
The worst part was the sifting of the ashes for nails, staple, old hinges, and whatever; with a suspicious Clink looking on for what she called the mysterious disappearance of her versioned all-a-round iron clad marriage contract. Neither here nor in them half bushels, darn if I can remember throwing that much iron and steel filled kindling into that stove last winter. But, it was dry and the fire lasted all the whole heating season.
Part way through the sifting my ash a younger fellow stopped by with an auction hand bill. Seems a 90yr old neighbor I didnít know is selling out his life and planning a move to Florida. Canít help my feelings. I look at that manís auction bill of goods and see the history of his life about to be dispersed across the country side 99&ĺ% of its real value unrealized? The tools once gone the sentiment and stories within them will be reminder lost, and I doubt anything has been written about their uses for posterity.
Meanwhile, back in the barn I managed to pickup 80% of the old fallen trod on hay, ancient browned corncobs, and the unpleasant aroma of cat, mouse and rat sh!t that seems to waif its way across this-oneís tenderest nostrils. I had had enough The barn floor was relatively flatter than it had been all summer. I backed out of the barn for a tea break.
Break over, time to put the grinding implements away and move the ground feeds on down the road. Some hay to move, and while I was there I did the chores for Keith. He didnít do them last year after the fair, taking up the evening chores this year to help out. He wont admit he likes seeing the animals. He he!
Made one stop on the way home to bum a cigarette, having quit smoking a little over a year ago. Never said I was perfect. Close maybe; but, never perfect! Lucked out, sort of, got one and it did taste good. Recommend nobody else should do this at home!
Getting ran the earlier stubborn starting Work Horse over the eastern race track infield to knock down the flora once shielding the spectators views from farm machinery once hidden behind tall grasses. Now I can even look out a back window and see the pasture office drinking fountain knowing when the cows are goofing off.
Not haven seen the ladies for a couple days, managed a Cushman ride out back. Found I need to restring the west pasture wire. My charges are going to need new pasture in a few days. So, their situation analyzed and looking at another something else needing doing. Putting the Cushman way its fifteen minutes from twilight. Might as well call it quits for the night.
Walking up to the house I pass Marmalade playing with her catch of the day. No mouse, it was either a baby shrew or gopher. Anyway, I snapped this picture and came on up to the house.
Was glad to see at least one critter was getting something done today. Her/my timing was perfect. Supper was ready. And, Iím about to call it a night.
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