Soo, anybody wanna hear about my morning?
Too bad, you're gonna hear about it anyway.
Let's see . . . where to start.
OK, well, Critter's sailing club is holding a race today (Tanzer regionals, or some such), and he'd agreed to help with the hosting. The lake is over an hour away from here, so he needed to leave early.
He's ready to go, and he sees the horses standing at the gate to the back yard, looking through it in a significant way. I say, "yeah, sure, why not; we can let them work on the grass in there." I don't have shoes on yet, so he goes to open the gate . . . and as Latte walks past him, she swishes her tail, splattering him head-to-toe with the muddy water she waded through to get to the gate.
So now he has to change his clothes.
On Thursday, Critter had had the '89 Bronco II towed to the mechanic to get the reason it hasn't been running for the last 6 months seen to. Supposedly they had left a message that it was fixed sometime yesterday, but it wasn't on either of our phones. Whatever. But Critter finds out this morning the Bronco is done, and, since it's on the way to the lake, Critter wanted to me to ride with him in his truck down to the garage, where he would pay for the repairs, and I would drive the Bronco back home. Sounds like a plan . . . only, while he was signing over the life of the next 3 generations to the mechanic, I discover that the seat is jammed in the furthest back position, and I can't reach the pedals with the seat back there (it's a manual, so you need some leverage). Critter can't get it to budge either, so the quickest thing is for us to leave his truck, we drive back home in the Bronco, we get in my Explorer, and I drive him back to the garage. But . . . .
I had to run out to get hay yesterday, and since it was, like, after 6 o'clock when I got back, and I still had dinner to fix and animals to feed and lock up, I pulled straight in and left the trailer loaded with 50 bales of hay hooked up to the Explorer, figuring to deal with the whole thing in the morning. So someone had to back that rig down the driveway, turn it around, and back it back in, and as I told Critter, "that's gonna have to be you. I could do it, eventually, but if you want to get out of here within the hour, it's on you." (OK, so I'm exaggerating a bit on the time, but he is much better at backing trailers than I am). With me spotting, it got done, trailer got unhooked, and we drove back down to the mechanic's place, where he hopped out and took off in his truck - at about 9:30. So much for leaving early!
And now, I still have a trailer of hay to unload, which can get a bit dicey when it's not hooked up. Here's hoping I get it done before it gets too hot out there (though working near midday does thin the mosquitoes out a bit).
Too bad, you're gonna hear about it anyway.
Let's see . . . where to start.
OK, well, Critter's sailing club is holding a race today (Tanzer regionals, or some such), and he'd agreed to help with the hosting. The lake is over an hour away from here, so he needed to leave early.
He's ready to go, and he sees the horses standing at the gate to the back yard, looking through it in a significant way. I say, "yeah, sure, why not; we can let them work on the grass in there." I don't have shoes on yet, so he goes to open the gate . . . and as Latte walks past him, she swishes her tail, splattering him head-to-toe with the muddy water she waded through to get to the gate.
So now he has to change his clothes.
On Thursday, Critter had had the '89 Bronco II towed to the mechanic to get the reason it hasn't been running for the last 6 months seen to. Supposedly they had left a message that it was fixed sometime yesterday, but it wasn't on either of our phones. Whatever. But Critter finds out this morning the Bronco is done, and, since it's on the way to the lake, Critter wanted to me to ride with him in his truck down to the garage, where he would pay for the repairs, and I would drive the Bronco back home. Sounds like a plan . . . only, while he was signing over the life of the next 3 generations to the mechanic, I discover that the seat is jammed in the furthest back position, and I can't reach the pedals with the seat back there (it's a manual, so you need some leverage). Critter can't get it to budge either, so the quickest thing is for us to leave his truck, we drive back home in the Bronco, we get in my Explorer, and I drive him back to the garage. But . . . .
I had to run out to get hay yesterday, and since it was, like, after 6 o'clock when I got back, and I still had dinner to fix and animals to feed and lock up, I pulled straight in and left the trailer loaded with 50 bales of hay hooked up to the Explorer, figuring to deal with the whole thing in the morning. So someone had to back that rig down the driveway, turn it around, and back it back in, and as I told Critter, "that's gonna have to be you. I could do it, eventually, but if you want to get out of here within the hour, it's on you." (OK, so I'm exaggerating a bit on the time, but he is much better at backing trailers than I am). With me spotting, it got done, trailer got unhooked, and we drove back down to the mechanic's place, where he hopped out and took off in his truck - at about 9:30. So much for leaving early!
And now, I still have a trailer of hay to unload, which can get a bit dicey when it's not hooked up. Here's hoping I get it done before it gets too hot out there (though working near midday does thin the mosquitoes out a bit).
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Of course, symptoms present themselves at 10:30 pm on a Friday night. 
(way easier said than done)
