We got up early so we could take feed to the cattle in Fort Scott. I'll get up early, if breakfast is involved... I've been dieting, so biscuits and gravy sounded sooo good. This was an off day, I did take my Alli pill, but I'll leave my diet saga for another time.
So the feed wagon was loaded and we headed out. This is about an hours drive from BF's farm, but he drives sooooo...slow that it takes him almost two. BF has received two tickets for driving too slow. This is another difference between city and country folk. Have you ever noticed how slow farmers drive? They're looking at fields, equipment, cattle, horses...whatever. I think it's some form of sick voyeurism....
Oooh and the body beside the first pic is not dead...it's BF working on something or the other.
We were about a mile from the pasture, when BANG!!!! A flat.
Flats are always trouble, but this was an ordeal. I simply wanted to call AAA...
We had to unhook the feed wagon, drive to the farm, get a tractor and creep feeder and then back to the flat.
First of all, I'm a city girl, so words like "creep feeder" required a definition. I thought he meant creepy feeder, cause that's what it looked like...
The feed had to moved to from the wagon to the creep feeder.
Do things like this ever happen without a bolt breaking??? Nope!
So off to the local TSC. That's Tractor Supply Company for all you city people. And...they only carry a limited supply of women's clothing. Fun stuff, but limited.
Once the creep feeder was loaded, we drove on back to the pasture. BF asked me to unhook the gate. I jumped out of the truck, excited to help, when one of his younger bulls decided that I shouldn't be there. I tried as hard as I could to unhook the fence, but when a bull is almost face to face and making a strange agitated noise, it was hard for me to concentrate or even look at what I was trying to do... I didn't do it. I got back in the truck, and let BF handle that boy.
We then headed back to the feed wagon and dragged it to the farm with the tractor.
That all took three hours (not including driving time) and he didn't lose his temper even once. I was a good sport and didn't ask, "how much longer?"...that was my contribution.