Found Geronimo's Rifle

My husband set out today to visit the big bad world, leaving me here to watch the home fires.

I worried terribly the entire time he was out. He doesn't want me out in the world right now because I have asthma and seem to catch a virus every time we drive by the elementary school. Better to hole up and wait it out.

He was doing routine things, of course. He took the dump truck to the garage for a state inspection sticker.

Then he went to the grocery store, where he came home with a multitude of items, many not on the list, like Little Debbie cookies, pork chops, etc. He said the shelves were bare in many places but fortunately we've enough staples. I'd sent him after fresh fruit and perishables, not Geronimo's rife or toilet paper.

Mostly he ventured out because he needed a medication refill, and the drugstore is inside of the grocery store. We felt like if he was going out, he may as well pick up some food items while he was there.

Fortunately, he did a good job and came home with most of what I needed. He shopped for his mother, too.

He said the biggest problem was the lack of items on the shelves and the fact that he seldom does the food shopping so he doesn't know where anything is.

I made him dump the groceries on the doorstep. I wiped each item off with an antibacterial wipe before I put it away, and washed my hands probably 8 times while I was doing that. He ate his lunch in the garage off of a paper plate. I tried to stay six feet away from him, which is rather hard when you're used to throwing yourself into someone's arms.

Then he loaded the truck up with our trash and headed off to the landfill. Not long after he left, I received a call from my father, who said he was resting on a bed at the Velocity Care because he'd fallen and now had 6 staples in his head. My father is 78 years old. He said my stepmother was in the parking lot and he didn't think he had a concussion, although how you could cut your head that badly and not have a concussion is beyond me.

Some things I have considered today that I hadn't been - the newspaper, which we still receive, apparently is good for holding this virus for 24 hours. I sprayed the front and back pages down with Lysol.

That made me wonder about the mail, since I read that the virus stays on cardboard for 24 hours. Do we not touch the mail for a day? When (if?) a package comes, should I give it a kick into the garage and leave it sitting for a long time before I open it?

I gave my husband orders to strip in the garage, wash his hands, drop his laundry in the washer, wash his hands again, and then take a shower.

He did this, and also wiped down everything in his pockets, including his pocket knife, wallet, and keys, with an antibacterial wipe.

I jokingly told him he didn't have to wash his socks with his pants because I thought the stink there would kill be the virus. He threw them in there anyway. Ha.

So this is our brave new world. For us the biggest changes are trying to be less germy, but we live on a farm and dirt has always been a big part of our world. It is hardest on him, I think, because even though I have complained for 37 years about him tracking in mud, he doesn't stop to take his shoes off.

At least now he is taking off his shoes before enters the house.

Be Nice!

Yesterday my husband and I went to an auction preview to look at farm machinery.

This wasn't my thing, really. It was dusty and there were people smoking and way more people there than I'd anticipated.

We ran into my father and I walked with him back to my car, leaving my husband to mill around looking at tractors and fence posts. My dad left, and I sat in the car listening to an audiobook.

The road was a single lane dirt road. I was pulled off to the side on the passenger's side, facing into the area of the farm machinery. People were coming and going, pulling over and riding big SUVs down into fields.

Then came the stand off.

A huge red truck with two men in it came roaring up the drive on the way out. In my rearview mirror, I saw a big white truck coming in.

The white truck had a handicapped sticker hanging from its mirror.

The big red truck was not moving over. The white truck was not moving.

Both sat there, engines revving. I saw the heavily bearded guy in the red truck give the guy in the white truck the finger.

I didn't look in my rear view mirror quickly enough to see the other man's reaction.

This went on for a while, the two trucks sitting there about three car lengths apart, each revving its engine. Traffic began to back up behind both. Finally the man in the white truck drove off to the side and the red truck passed, only to have to pull off into the field anyway because there were so many other vehicles behind the white truck trying to enter the farm auction area.

I'm not sure who the jerk was in that scenario but I think probably the guy in the red truck simply because he was younger and the guy in the white truck had a handicapped sticker. The handicapped sticker alone should have meant the guy in the red truck should have given way, in my opinion (which I know counts as nothing).

But we don't live in days of courtesy anymore. We live in the days of who has the biggest truck, I guess.

Makin' Hay

Just a Little Rain

Over the last six days, we've had dramatic rain falls. As of yesterday at lunch time, we'd had more than six inches of rain.

Then it rained about 1/4 inch around lunchtime.

And then it rained 1-3/4 inches after supper.

There was flooding all over the place. We watched the water run off the hills. We knew we would find a mess in the driveway but it was a bit worse than we'd anticipated.



Gravel in the yard.



A ditch couldn't carry the water and so more gravel went into the yard.



This ditch did have concrete and river rock in it to try to keep the water moving
and in its place. It didn't work.



This is a large overflow.



More gravel in the yard.



This is the overflow. You can see the many layers of gravel, pug, and crush-and-run we've put down
over the years. I think this time it eroded all the way back to the foundation of the driveway. That mud
in the middle there? That would be the water mark where the drain couldn't take the rain
and it poured over the driveway.

A lot of gravel is in the neighbor's pasture.

This is the lower side of the driveway near the road. That ditch cut-away isn't supposed
to be there.

I'm pretty sure some of those larger rocks were buried further up.

I think the rain tried to take out the mailbox.

What a mess.

Yep, definitely tried to take the mailbox.

Photos taken with my iPhone SE.

Thursday Thirteen #510

In Petersburg, Virginia, is a private museum open to the public. Keystone Truck & Tractor Museum showcases one man's collection of old farm tractors, big diesel trucks, antique fire equipment, sports cars, and other oily things with gears.

Here are thirteen of the old tractors:

This is made from the parts of an old Indian motorcycle.

No clue. I didn't take notes. My husband could tell you, but he isn't here.



Most of these things were bigger than I was. I couldn't have climbed in the seat if I had to.

This is an old road grader.

I think this is what many people think of when they think "old tractor."

Moline tractors are more popular out west, I think.

This was my favorite.

_________

 

Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; there is a list here if you want to read other Thursday Thirteens and/or play along. I've been playing for a while and this is my 510th time to do a list of 13 on a Thursday.

Moving the Honey Bees

We recently discovered a nest of honey bees in one of the trees in the yard. They have created a space for themselves in a knot in a tree.

I don't know what this means for the tree - hopefully it isn't dying, but obviously it must have some rotten hollow spaces in it.

Honey bees are important to not just our farm but the world, so obviously we don't want to kill them. However, my husband and I are allergic to bees and he will disturb them every time he mows the yard. They need to be moved.

We called a friend who keeps bees and he has placed a queen bee with honeycomb inside a bee catching device. The hope is the bees will be lured to the new queen.

So far it isn't happening.

The tree with the bee catcher hanging down near the bee hive.

A little closer shot of the scene.

The bees have made themselves at home in this crack in the tree.

There seem to be a lot of them.

Not sure what the next step is if they don't go into the bee trap.

The Gully Washer

Last week, Thursday I think it was, we had a big rain. We received 2.5 inches overnight.

The driveway wash was the worst I believe I'd ever seen. Since our driveway is about 1/4 of a mile long, this covers a lot of ground. The water must have been rolling fast down the hill that night.

Not so bad, eh?

But wait. All of that gravel is supposed to be in the driveway, not the yard.

Oh dear. More gravel in the yard.

Look at those nice deep grooves that rattle a car.

This is the lower end of the driveway. Suddenly we have a new ditch!

That gravel under the fence belongs in our driveway.

Another new ditch.

Drop a wheel over that and I might be stuck!

Fortunately we have the equipment to fix this with. Many other folks aren't so lucky.