I had pretty much given-up on blogging what with the building of the barn/shop in-progress and other important stuff like trying to remove asphalt spots from the front of the Tundra...
But now I find myself reenergized with the expansion of Garden Mountain Earthworks LLC. Last Friday saw the delivery of a new
Bobcat-manufactured utility vehicle that will mount a 6 or 7 foot snow blower along with more important stuff like an iPod and my notepad. But the real fun is meeting all the messed-up wierdos in this area that need their snow removed. (And, no, I'm not talking about cocaine.) Fortunately there are also a goodly number of semi-normal people who have humorous tales to spin and I thought I'd relate my interactions with them herein.
The expansion of "the biz" will bring...and already has...the opportunity to interface with a wider range of folks. This should provide a veritable goldmine of humor. Thus, I am compelled to start updating my blog on a more regular basis. Plus you'll get to see cool action shots of the new hardware in action. I will post pics soon of both barn and yard.
Oh...and I'm also adding to my list of "Little Johnny" jokes... I blame Backhoe Man and Donnie Daddy (local retired backhoe guy) for this.
Rice on the MenuTaterTot is engaged. It happened on Valentine's Day. The wedding is to take place at some desert location between Caldwell, ID, and the Oregon Line.
Here's a link to where the wedding will be. According to rumor (we hardly ever see TaterTot) it will be on 7/21/07.
I note that today is the 40th anniversary of the death of one of my uncles. Click
HERE to go to his entry on
The Virtual Wall.
From the WTF Files...I've always been curious (and concerned) why so many vehicles I see on the road in Garden Valley are sporting those neat blue "Handicapped" badges that hang from the rear view mirror. Living in this area, because of its relative remoteness (that term actually has to do with distance from relatives), wouldn't seem to be a place that disabled people would naturally gravitate to.
Thus I was understandably confused when Donny Daddy (Proud papa of the neighborhood's newest old backhoe...see earlier blog) mentioned that a disabled friend of his was moving into the area. I was tempted to ask what the hell his friend was going to do when it snowed 18" overnight but refrained from asking the obvious. Maybe I should give his friend my business card.
Why don't people who can't take care of themselves to one degree or another live closer to a city with all its services rather than out here where even Life Flight sometimes gets lost? There are several examples of widows in this area who are dependent on their neighbors when power goes down and/or big snows come around.
I'm presently developing theories about this phenomenon and will post them later.
But in the meantime I've developed one of the better Redneck Answers® on how to warm the cab of the Happy Kubota. Will post development notes and pics later if I live through the Beta.
SymmetryAs I motored into Crouch a few days ago I saw a couple of my neighbors loading a van in front of the Community Center. Since one of them had told me she needed an outdoor faucet relocated I thought I'd stop and mention that I could dig the trench for her this spring for free and that between Rob (the flyswatter) and I we'd certainly have enough pipe odds and ends to complete the job for her
gratis. She then said she also needed a sprinkler system.
My approach to such "mission creep" is to say something along the lines of, "That sounds like a good idea. Can I bid on it?" That dispels the Free Lunch Mission Creep Syndrome (FLMCS) like nothing else. Well, the lady says, "Sure"...so I guess I'll give her a bid this spring.
Her friend and neighbor, Cletus, was listening to this and interjected that he had just received his irrigation bill (I'm the Sec/Treasurer and just set out bills) and was wondering why 'cuz he had payed a couple months ago. I patiently explained for the 500th time why there were two billings in 2006. My explanation didn't "take" though. The lady was kind enough to interpret for me. I'd look at Cletus and say, "It's Ok, there are two billings this year," and then the lady would look at Cletus and say the same thing. Why he understood her and not me is still a mystery. And no, Cletus is not deaf.
Somehow, the subject got changed to the Senior's Dance that apparently takes place weekly in Crouch. (By the way, the only two buildings in Crouch that are not firetraps are the Senior Center and Credit Union.) Cletus commented that the lights were turned-down too low and that it was a plot by all the old women to make it so that the studs like him couldn't see their aged frames. Cletus, who apparently considers himself quite the rug-cutter, went on to protest women who had mustaches and that he simply wouldn't dance with such a person.
All during his protestation, I was watching a big glop of drool run out the side of Cletus' mouth. Deep down I knew that if there was
any justice in this world there would be a senior woman (sans mustache) stating, "I'll be damned if I'll dance with some horny, drooling old bastard."
Not wanting to miss the joy of frostbite, I returned to Garden Valley this morning in order to finish a long-distance wiring installation. Some friends decided that having Christmas lights on their entrance gate was a must-have. So, having the Happy Kubota and 500' of Type UF-B wire (direct burial), I went to Lowes and bought a GFI breaker and assorted small parts for this install. This morning I finished burying the cable at the enjoyable temperature of 19. At least it was sunny. Karen of the Shirer came out and told me that Bozeman had received 6" of snow last night. I guess she was trying to cheer me up.
Starting the Happy Kubota was an interesting experience. Glow plugs not withstanding, I cranked the thing for 20 seconds before it roared to life. Diesels are such a kick.
Tomorrow AM I'm scheduled to go tear down a small embankment of DG. This will take me and the Happy Kubota an hour or three. BM could probably do this in 15 minutes while basking in the luxury of a heated cab. Fortunately it's only going to get down to 17 tonight...which means it'll be a toasty 23 or so by the time I get outta the shed with the Happy Kubota.
On the brighter side, my cab for the Happy Kubota arrived a few days ago. It awaits installation down in the comfy garage of the Boise place. This'll help. At least it'll shield me from flying dog poop when I clear the roads up here. Terrible things happen when the shit hits the fan (snow blower fan, that is).
The Final StrawI'm speechless. Fortunately my fingers still work.
For some time I have been worried about the Redneck Contagion. Stitch has it now. Twice in the past two weeks she has suggested that we need to buy a quad. Normally I would have promptly beat a path down to the Honda or Yamaha dealer at the mere hint that she'd given the green light to this but now I'm leary that she's "under the influence". Her rationale for wanting a quad is interesting and unexpected. She has stated, "I need a quad to ride down to the mailbox just like the other neighborhood ladies do." I figure it's just a matter of time until she wants her own skid-steer (AKA Bobcat).
