Thursday, July 07, 2005
New fun on the farm
While this latest activity may not be B&B sanctioned, it's plenty fun and I swear, safe as can be. It takes place in the Isuzu crapper farm truck, a small gray number with more rust than bodywork and permanent 'low fuel' light glowing in the dash. These days the door lock on the driver's side has become MIA (thanks to the hand saw in the cab and my handiwork. Damn door would lock, and because of the separation of inner and outer door, getting it unlocked was not easy. And doing the Dukes of Hazzard routine gets old and tiring in the blazing sun after hours of tossing large heaping steaming mounds of rotting weeds) and the roof keeps getting dented in (Drew isn't very light on his stomach). But overall it's a great truck that begs for abuse. I am more than happy to comply. And since it has a manual transmission and the other 3 here aren't so good with a stick (hehe) the bulk of the driving ends up happily nosing around in my lap.
Weeds have been mounding up thanks to our efforts in various piles around the farm. The fence at the low end of the farm has a mulch pile (not so much a mulch pile as a pile of stuff rotting away for no real purpose) that has drastically increased in size since we began trucking the pulled weeds down and piling them on top. This has been our main activity the last couple of days. It's fun and hard work and feels good. And I get to pummel the truck around over rocks and stumps and hills and mud heaps and sometimes D when he isn't behaving or paying attention. Our largest collection of weeds sat atop a small hill with a ramp-like approach.
Some of you may now see where this epic is voyaging. I had to try, ya know? How could I not? After all, I am the world's greatest driver, and if anyone could pull this off it's me. So I tried. And succeeded. Sort of.
Clearing the truck I scoped out my approach and the landing (not really. I wanted to sound foresightful). The motor gunned, the clutch dropped, and we lurched. The lava rocks are kind enough to smooth out a bit at the base of the small hill which allowed me to gain the necessary speed to hit the top of the hill and lose contact with the earth below.
If you've seen the movie 'Napoleon Dynamite' (and if you haven't, go see it. Pure genius) it's like the scene where Pedro ramps his bike for ND's amusement and awestruckedly based worship. Me and the truck got something like 40 feet of air and ended up ramping over the fence running the north side of the property. Unfortunately, I had no way to ramp back over so I had to do the drive of shame thru the neighbor's farm (a large coffee farm) and up their driveway, out onto the highway, and back down onto our farm in front of B&B who gazed at me in extreme wonder since they never saw me drive off the farm and know how severely street illegal the truck is. I simply waved and continued back down the farm and set up another load of weeds.
D, of course, now worships not only the ground I walk on but the air I breathe and dirt I wash out of my fingernails. No task can be done without his assistance and he acts as my personal guardian. He is now completely under my control....time for his real training to begin!
Weeds have been mounding up thanks to our efforts in various piles around the farm. The fence at the low end of the farm has a mulch pile (not so much a mulch pile as a pile of stuff rotting away for no real purpose) that has drastically increased in size since we began trucking the pulled weeds down and piling them on top. This has been our main activity the last couple of days. It's fun and hard work and feels good. And I get to pummel the truck around over rocks and stumps and hills and mud heaps and sometimes D when he isn't behaving or paying attention. Our largest collection of weeds sat atop a small hill with a ramp-like approach.
Some of you may now see where this epic is voyaging. I had to try, ya know? How could I not? After all, I am the world's greatest driver, and if anyone could pull this off it's me. So I tried. And succeeded. Sort of.
Clearing the truck I scoped out my approach and the landing (not really. I wanted to sound foresightful). The motor gunned, the clutch dropped, and we lurched. The lava rocks are kind enough to smooth out a bit at the base of the small hill which allowed me to gain the necessary speed to hit the top of the hill and lose contact with the earth below.
If you've seen the movie 'Napoleon Dynamite' (and if you haven't, go see it. Pure genius) it's like the scene where Pedro ramps his bike for ND's amusement and awestruckedly based worship. Me and the truck got something like 40 feet of air and ended up ramping over the fence running the north side of the property. Unfortunately, I had no way to ramp back over so I had to do the drive of shame thru the neighbor's farm (a large coffee farm) and up their driveway, out onto the highway, and back down onto our farm in front of B&B who gazed at me in extreme wonder since they never saw me drive off the farm and know how severely street illegal the truck is. I simply waved and continued back down the farm and set up another load of weeds.
D, of course, now worships not only the ground I walk on but the air I breathe and dirt I wash out of my fingernails. No task can be done without his assistance and he acts as my personal guardian. He is now completely under my control....time for his real training to begin!
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