Keep on truckin'

Vehicles at Havenhill have become a comedy of errors. Minnie Pearl, our big white '72 Jeep pick-up, always has an issue or two. She's old, but makes a great farm truck - never mind there's no heat, no radio, no seat belts, and up until recently no gas gauge. After four years, Tom finally had time to replace the gas tank (that had a hole in it) and the gauge so we could actually know how much gas we had (or more accurately didn't have). And, after months of having what we thought were alternator problems, Tom concluded we needed a new battery. I was feeling like she was a luxury ride - giddy as I filled the tank and watched the gas gauge go up to full and she starts up with one big roar. No more jumping it just to haul stuff to the burn pile - it's the small things in life.

Saturday we had a little date day - haul recycling to town, lunch, a few errands, and a load of hay and grain (romantic isn't it). As we drove home in the pouring rain, Minnie started to sputter and died on the side of the road. The gas gauge read half full, so it surely wasn't that. We hiked up the road to a neighbors to borrow a few tools for what Tom thought was a clogged fuel filter. Farmers always like a chance to help a neighbor and a broke down vehicle is even better. Denny insisted on towing the truck into the shop so he and Tom could work on it out of the rain ( we were cold, wet pups). I took advantage of Karen's offer to sit for a chat and warm up. My fingers and toes finally thawed, I checked on the boys just as they had concluded we were out of gas. Half full on the new gas gauge actually means empty! Denny got a good laugh and now we know empty is well before "E". I'm fine with that as long as I know what I'm dealing with... wonder if there's any chance of getting heat (and defrost) before winter arrives again?

Final note - my car is back from the body shop and, after driving the CJ7 for 2 weeks, it's too easy to drive.

All for the love of eggs

Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God... was all she could say as she ran after her truck. Shannon delivers farm fresh eggs to us each week (one of the great perks of living in the country is farm fresh everything - even better when it's delivered to your door) and we were standing in the kitchen having a little chat. Her son yelled, "Mom - the truck!"and there it was rolling down the driveway and headed toward the very sloppy grass seed field. We ran out, and I just kept thinking it was gone... bouncing down the field into who knows what. Instead, it wedged itself against a tree. We scurried around like chickens, trying to push it out, getting the phone to call her hubby, running back to get Tom, getting a jacket for her kid and laughing. Tom pulled the truck out in minutes - "You know I hated that"... right, guys hate playing with 4 wheel drive and tow straps. And Shannon, "All for the love of eggs"... yep, we'll really appreciate our omlettes this week!

The pleasures of mucking

No one ever said farming was glamorous, but they should have. Last Sunday I had the pleasure of mucking out the goat/llama shed. You really need to be in the right frame of mind for this - that Zen feeling that allows you to think about something other than the fact that you're shovelling 6 months worth of hay and straw compacted with goat/llama manure and pee. For some reason, everyone decided the shed made a better bathroom than bedroom this winter... and one of the cuddly critters thought it would be best to pee right in front of the hay room door so I get to step in each time I feed! I don't know who, but I suspect it's one of the llama girls. A little fact we didn't know when we adopted Pepper and Geena - llamas always go to the bathroom in the same spot. Fine if it's out in the pasture, not so great if it's in the shed.

So, it was an enjoyable afternoon shovelling the gunk into the truck and then into a burn pile to be torched when things dry out a bit. Our new neighbors (they just bought the 5 acre vineyard next door) stopped by near the end. Very nice to see them, but I giggled under my breath when she asked if this was how we spent every Sunday (basking in the rain and shovelling shit). Tom, who had been playing with burn piles while I shoveled (in his defense, the shed clean up was my project), tried to make it sound like it wasn't all work, but all I could think was I'd be mowing or weeding or something every weekend now until October. Actually, my goal is to hire more help this summer so that isn't the case (I can only hope), but no matter there's always something that needs to be done (note to self, let some things go so you can enjoy the summer).

Farming may not be glamorous, but I wouldn't trade it for anything...

Garage accidents and goat escapades

OK, so I must get better at this... I was scolded the other day by a friend I ran into at the grocery store because my blog was not up to date. And she's right!

So, my stupid accident of the week... I came home and pulled into the garage. I really had to pee, so slammed the car into park and ran into the house. A few minutes later I heard a loud crunch... turns out the car was not in park, but neutral and the drivers door was open. As the car rolled out of the garage, the door caught on the divider between the 2 doors. Once I got the car back in (and in park), I realized the door wouldn't close. I couldn't even get the car out to take it to the shop! What do you say to the insurance company - ah, I had an accident in my garage! And, what do you tell the tow company - I need my car towed, but I can't get it out of the garage! They sent a guy and it took him quite a while to figure out how to get the door closed enough to get it out. As he was putting it on the truck he said, "I've never done this before"... right, kind of an unusual situation. No, he'd never towed a car before! They sent him cuz they thought he'd be the one to figure out the door, but getting the car on the truck was a different story. Well, he did a fine job and now just waiting for them to fix the darn thing. Amazingly stupid accident.

So, I'm driving Tom's old Jeep CJ-7 for the time... great work out for my left leg as the clutch is amazingly tight and great if you want the guys to notice. I always forget - nothing like a blonde in an old Jeep to turn a few heads (who knew it took 2 guys to wash your windshield) - works the same in our old '72 Jeep pick-up. Girls in boys toys - well, fun for a week or so.

And, Lulla Belle's great escape last night... we came home after a yummy dinner at the Silver Grille - a good bye for our journalist friend, Angelina, who's returning to Denver after an 18 month stint at our local rag, The Appeal. A message from our neighbor said the goats were out... the thought of finding goats in the dark is always pleasant. Luckily only Lulla Belle was out - she'd slipped thru a spot where the fence wasn't tacked down. The funniest part was all the other animals were right by the fence calling to her. I was getting grain to coax them in (normally they come running) and Tom was trying to find our escape convict. No one would come until she was safely inside and then it was a stampede in the dark... even Geena, our shiest llama got within 2 feet of me before she realized she was that close (startled both of us). Hopefully safe and sound for a while.