“It’s a sign of how dull my life has become,” I said to J, “That breaking in this new shit fork may be the high point of my day.” Actually it’s a typical busy Friday: Right now I’m waiting for a phone call to help unload a new iron hitching post that won’t get eaten off at the ground line by termites, and then I have to bake bread. But for the moment I’m home.
That’s one week’s accumulation from three and a half horses. We used to let it pile up for a year at a time, but J&H got very tired of that. So now I haul it away. This is the primary reason I wanted the new fork.
Most of the time I take it Ian’s fruit tree plantation. This is the second pile I’ve hauled for him: They take a few years to compost in the dry climate.
Then it’s back to J&H’s for brush cutting. I give them an hour a week, which is just about enough time to fill and empty the trailer once.
The brush goes out to a spot in the boonies that’s unlikely to come back and haunt me. I like to think of it as “building habitat.” I’m sure the BLM rangers would approve.
And while I was posting the pics I got that phone call I was waiting for. So I’m off again.
Does the Jeep have new rear tires?
… out here in …
So, the new manure fork is a status symbol?
Also, you get forgiveness for tagging me with a Monkees earworm. Just had to YouTube it, and discovered the Carole King version. Not dissing on Micky Dolenz, really, but Carole does it much better.