Things have been going swimmingly here at the ranch. I have been able to feed and water the animals before dusk most days. I know that doesn't seem like a big chore but it is for me. I am of feeble mind and most days I get side-tracked easily.
For instance, the other day I was surfing around cyber space when I happened upon some plans for chicken coops. I sort of need another coop. I have roasters coming soon, ducks than need their own space and probably new layers this summer too. I really don't need one right now but since I stumbled across some nifty plans I thought I should try my hand at building one. Now for those of you who live in my Rainbow World (or at least have some access to it) know what a Dyke Card is. I have such a card but I have yet to earn the "Power Tool" stamp. I have owned my fair share of power tools, even operated some of them. However since my venture into paradise with the Shelly I have had limited access to them. (If you will open up your LGBT Handbook to page 17, section 3, you will notice the rule about Two Dyke Households and the operation of power tools.) So it's fair to say that I am a little rusty with the Black and Decker area of the garage. But...I have been officially put off course and I decide to go in search of a saw, nails, screws, and such. I wish I had the "Gobs and Gobs of $$$" stamp too but alas I don't possess that one either, so I try to recycle and reuse whenever possible. I do know that we have plenty of 2X4s in the old barn and I have rescued some partial panels of plywood from the little house the blew down last summer. I get all of my "cheese" together and commence to building. I use some leftover Halloween spray paint to paint a section of plywood. I wait for it to dry and bust out the skill saw. I fail to pay attention to the type of saw blade, instead I set that screaming tool to wood and start cutting. Well, it didn't cut "Like Butter." In my haste, (we will call it haste it was actually stupidity.) I didn't bother to notice that I had a metal cutting blade on the saw. So half-way through the board the saw stopped working in a semi-small cloud of smoke! I didn't break anything the blade just wasn't made for that type of material and refused to cut any further. It was then I decided to take a look at the blade. OOPS. I think, only for a fraction of a second, that I should just abandon my chore and run off and do something else. Of course I don't, I go jetting off to the garage looking for the correct blade. Much to my displeasure I can't find the correct blade. Okay then...no coop building today! I decided to check on chickens and play with goats instead. I still haven't tracked down the correct saw blade or finished the first cut. No worries, it will be there when I am ready.
Some days I just can't get sidetracked. I just don't have time. Today started out normal but as I stepped out of the gate I knew things were going to get "funny." I have been trying to be a bit more healthy so I insist on cooking breakfast every morning instead of getting junk at Evergreen Station. So I cooked myself a couple of eggs with toast, bottle fed the babies in the barn and the Shelly and I headed out to chore at Phoenix Ranch. The Shelly is not participating in "healthier" anything right now so we have to make the trip to Evergreen Station anyway. As we are meandering down the road I talk to the Shelly about buying me a pair of overalls so I can wear them "Oklahoma Style" like my friend G suggested and we chat about MeMo's new bull calf that was born yesterday. Normal everyday, in the truck on the way to work type of chitchat. We pull into Evergreen Station and the boss lady Barb, meets us at the door and asks if we know Victor. We confirm that we do know him and ask why. She says that somebody came in a couple of minutes before and said that he was having car problems about twenty miles back. The informant asked Barb to call Victor's boss and have the boss come get him (Victor.) Barb had no idea who Victor was or who the Boss was. Still this is pretty normal for our little hub. We told Barb that Victor's boss was MeMo but that MeMo wasn't home and we would look after Victor as we were headed over to MeMo's anyway to check on the new baby. Barb is not really sure in which direction Victor was. From Evergreen Station a hick like myself can travel in three different directions; toward Cripple Creek the world's greatest gold camp, toward Florissant and the fossil beds, or toward Canon City the city of prisons. The Shelly and I decided that he is toward Canon City and after the Shelly gets her daily dose of Pepsi and smokes we venture off to to find him. I glance at my watch and remind the Shelly that I have to work at the high powered job today. She nods and assures me that we will be back in time for me to do my chores and get a shower. We are about to give up our search for Victor after mile 30. He was in luck as we were looking for a wide spot to turn around there happened to be Victor in his jalopy with his wife and baby, strapped to the top was a big ol' pile of wood. We put the wood in TomTruck, pack up wife, baby and Victor and turn back. After a couple of miles the Shelly decides that I will not have enough time to chore at Phoenix Ranch and tells me she'll just drop me off at Rolling Thunder. I agree happily, although I try not to sound happy, that would get me in all kinds of trouble. She swings through our ranch, and drops me off at the barn. I tell her that I'll get everyone fed, eggs collected and the working sheep's pasture cleaned up before I get a shower. She tells me not to worry about he pasture, we can get to it this coming weekend. The two of us argue a bit. The working sheep's pasture has a partial bale of GROSSNASTY hay. GrossNasty means that it is moldy and smelly and even the sheep won't eat it. The hay needs to be taken out in case some mentally impaired (most of them are) sheep decides to binge on it. A little GrossNasty hay won't hurt them. No matter what the reasons, the bale needs to go. I dismiss the Shelly and get to work. I feed all my critters, collect eggs and rescue the blind hen too. I determine that I have enough time to clean up the GrossNasty hay and I head for the tractor. Martha, who lives at Phoenix Ranch is milling around the barn with her buddies, they are getting in some practice with working dogs on working sheep. So...the pasture is empty of animals. I think that this is the time to move that darn hay. All the conditions seem right! I pull the tractor in and make several sweeps by the GrossNasty pile, spreading loose hay and sheep poo around the pasture. After a bit, I back up to the pile of hay and drop my blade behind it. I put the tractor in gear and start to pull away. This should be no problem, I'll just drag the whole darn thing to the garbage ditch. (The garbage ditch, also referred to as the graveyard, is a ditch on the edge of the property that has a lot of "stuff" in it---dead animals, old wood shavings from stalls, poop, etc... As I turn around to see how I'm doing I notice flames coming from the GrossNasty pile. OH NO! Moldy oldy hay like compost generates heat. I have added an influx of oxygen while trying to get rid of the GrossNasty hay! Now I have a little fire in the middle of my sheep pasture in the middle of a very dry winter. Thankfully it wasn't huge, I ran over it a couple of times with the tractor, and doused it with the hose. I had to ask Martha to leave the sheep up in the arena until Shelly returned because now I have ran out of time and I must get ready for the high powered job. Ah Jeez!