Anyway, after lunch I headed back out to mow. Granddaddy reminded me to check the fluids...which I did--minus the fuel. So I'm puttsing along and I was almost to the gate when the tractor up and died on me (again...remember, this happened in part 2 of the story). First thing I did was check the wire that was the problem previously. That was fine, so I crawled down and decided to open the fuel cap. After opening it, I peered into the depths of the dark hole...not even the tinest reflection flickered back at me. Great..."I'm out of diesel!"
I strode back to the house, popped in to get my wallet and keys and tell everyone I was going to town. Granddaddy asked me as I walked by (before I had a chance to open my mouth), "Are you out of fuel?" See, he does pay attention to what goes on around him!
I got 10 gallons of diesel (only have two 5-gallon cans) returned home, put them in the tractor, drove the truck to the house and was coming in to drop off my keys and wallet when Granddaddy--on his way out--asked me if I had tried to start the thing. No, I hadn't. Good...because it has to be 'drained' first if you run completely dry. So we bounced back out there in the pick-up (me munching on dried apricots again). He took care of the 'draining' process (I think 'bleeding' would be a better term) while I watched. Then I cranked the engine and it roared to life.
I went through the gate and started to engage the PTO and the engine died on me. I don't know why. Anyway, I tried again (Granddaddy was standing behind it--at a safe distance) and it worked that time. Almost immediately, he signaled me to turn the mower off again, so I did, climbed down and went to find out why. He pointed out the broken part and told me the blade was hitting it (so it had been...I thought it was probably just the broken part banging, but I guess not) and that 'we' needed to weld it before I used it anymore. Okay, so I returned the tractor to the barn.
Since Granddaddy didn't seem to enthusiastic about attempting any welding (he knows how, but he doubts how well he can do it anymore and I don't know how to weld at all!) I asked him if he'd like to me to call Daddy and see if he knew anyone who might do it for us. He said yes (basically), so I called Daddy. I explained the situation (and sort of got into trouble for running the tractor dry--I'll be more vigilant in the future about the state of the fuel) and he told me to check how much a new bush-hog costs next time I go to town (which will probably be tomorrow--the cows are out of mineral again; they certainly go through it faster during the summer...)
SO...after that I decided I might as well ride Snip. It only took about 15 minutes to 'bit him'. I didn't get flustered at all with him today. What an ornery critter he is! He puts his ears back and throws his head up and sometimes he gets wacked on the nose simply because I can't help it--in other words, he wacks himself on the nose using my hand (or forearm as the case may be). Rascal... Then, like normal, as soon as the bit is in, he relaxes and usually pokes his nose into the grass...so I have to jerk his head up :D Goof-ball.
I did all the gate closing/opening after galloping for a bit. The cows had already rotated themselves through. By the way, I think that the black calf is a bull...(that was my initial impression anyway...) While riding in the back pasture I noticed a couple buzzards in the trap and also got a whiff of something dead. I rode on into the trap and over to where the buzzards had been and sure enough--just like I expected--there was a dead calf. It had been red...that's all I can tell you about it. So whether it was still-born or abandoned I don't know.
I rode a little deeper into the woods on the property Granddaddy leases...it seems like everytime I ride back there I go a little farther in. I almost always get the sensation that I ought to be carrying a firearm with me--something bigger than a .22. I got the willies early on because I almost put my head in a spider-web containing one of those banana spiders of some sort. If you can't guess, I'm none to fond of said spiders.
Now, like the sensible child that I am, I am hungry...like usual. I'll see if I can't start rounding up supper (maybe...) Savannah is outside walking and I don't know if she had anything planned--but somehow I think we're having left-overs again. Doesn't bother me, I like left-0vers (especially if I liked them the first time around :D)