One Fish Two Fish

During the summer, my friends with children think of the farm as their personal playground. Bart and Heather will show up unannounced on a Sunday morning, kids in tow as if I've been sitting around waiting to entertain them. I find this annoying, Heather thinks it's amusing - hey guys, I do have phone service up here on the hill.

Well, the boys know how to use the phone and arranged to bring Henry & Elliot up to fish in the pond. I wondered how much fishing two 3 year-olds could do, but no matter the dad's were gonna teach the boys to fish. Have ya ever seen two grown men casting Spiderman fishing poles with fish flavored marshmallows as bait and a plastic shopping bag for a tackle box? Anything you can imagine, the real deal is funnier. Not only two guys with cartoon poles (one came with a fake gold fish attached), but the seriousness in which they instructed the kids on the finer points of fishing - this is real man stuff, now pay attention. The boys were afraid of the fish when they came flopping out of the water and just wanted them to go back into the pond where they belonged. It hardly mattered, Bart and Jason kept casting until the many marshmallows were gone. I'm pretty sure this little adventure was more for the dads than the boys. In their defense, Jason is an expert fly fisherman and wouldn't be caught dead with a shopping bag tackle box on the river, and although I didn't know Bart fished he's got a swift cast with the Spidey pole.

Note to any anglers or would be anglers - we can't allow public fishing on the pond (friends & family only). Sorry for the tease.

Between the wish and the fish, life lies waiting.

Blonde Moment

Now I'm getting phone calls from friends, concerned I may harm myself working on the truck. Pleeease don't worry... Kristine, there's no chance of cutting a gas line while changing an ignition switch (or if there is, I didn't do it). The biggest chance of injury would be bumping my head on the steering column, which I also managed to avoid. And to alleviate any further concerns... I wear steel toed boots and face protection when I run a chainsaw, same boots for splitting wood and I know how to grab a goat by the horns. I'm not careless, just stubborn.

And blonde... the tow guy was just here, I finally caved and decided to send it to Matthew. As I was taking it out of 4-wheel drive and getting ready to put it in neutral for him, I realized it was in gear, not park. Oh, the blonde moment! Guess what... she fired right up! So, now I know how to change out a solenoid and an ignition switch, neither of which I needed to do. Lets just say I'll be laughing at myself all week.

Enjoy the days, they only come once.

Bull Headed Blonde

Earlier this week I mentioned to a friend that I was kind of bull headed, as if it was something he might not know. Nick probably fell off his chair laughing - who would have guessed!

And as if I need to prove this, I'm giving myself brain damage trying to fix my farm truck. Minnie Pearl is a '72 Jeep J-10 and she has a few issues. This week, namely that she wont start. I think its the ignition switch so off I go to the auto parts store. The guy there tells me it could be the solenoid and I should check that first. Who knows what a solenoid is... he tells me where to find it, how to check it and sells me some light rod tester. No problem. But the picture in the manual looks differnt than what's in my truck - I test what I think is the solenoid, which upon further discussion with the auto parts guy turns out to be the coil and I'm testing it backward. He's getting a good laugh and suggests I may need some help. Really, I don't think so. I finally test the right part and it doesn't seem to be working, so I replace it.

The darn truck still doesn't start. So I call my uncle in CO for some advice. Yes, it definitely could be the ignition switch and he tells me how to check it. I have no idea if I'm checking it correctly - by the time I'm under the dash, I've muddled his instructions in my head. And, there are a heck of a lot of wires running into that switch. We'll give it another go this afternoon... now it seems to be a personal challenge to figure it out. Or, I'll get it towed to Matthew who could fix it in an hour. But why do that when I should be able to do it myself.

I have a feeling the Chilton's manual is about to become bedtime reading and that I'll be signing up for auto shop at the high school (do ya think they'll let me?).

Goat Kids

I am a total animal geek... the kind of gal who could wind up with a dozen dogs if she wasn't careful. Tom used to keep me in check by setting the limit at 2 dogs and and a couple barn yard critters, but last night I realize ooh la la there are no limits anymore.

Friend Deena is dog sitting/farm sitting friend Gretchen's place this week. I stopped by last night for a glass of wine and when I arrived, Mary & David where there and they announce we had some farm work to do first. Well lets go, what is it... bottle feeding some brand new baby goats whose mama's having a hard time nursing. Stick me in a goat shed with a pile of kid goats any time! There were five - three had been born a few days earlier and two that morning. Sweetest little things with their spots and speckles and their wobbly legs... like a pile of puppies.

The down side was, I wanted to take them home. Why not... I could keep them in the bath tub (which could make showering a bit difficult) and bottle feed them 'til they were old enough to live with Blanche and the crew. Yes, on the way home I actually considered this... as well as thinking about getting Blanche and Lula Belle knocked up and having my own pile of goat babes. Fortunately reality set in... I do need that bath tub to bath in, and as much as I'd like to play with goats all day I don't have the time. Besides if they grew up in the bath tub, who knows, maybe I'd let them on the couch one day and it'd be all down hill from there... lavender lady turns crazy goat lady (not the kind of headlines we're looking for).