Sunday's garbage
OK, this has stopped annoying me to the point that I start ranting, so now y'all can laugh at this.
Sunday morning, I'm helping my son do the chores (lay out grain for the cows, let them in & lock them up, do other crap, chase cows out) because my father was going to help out at an auction. We had to have everything done and be showered by 1, because Dad had a "company Xmas party" to go to, and we were all invited. He thought it was because M (it's a family business) is just a very energetic and perky woman, and would invite random people off the street if she could. Nope, she was sneaking him a 60th b-day party as well! (His b-day is late December).
Anyway, we just get down the barn and my son is filling pails of grain. I'm on the phone w/Dad to ask him ... something. I forget what, now. And I look back up the hill towards the house to see the 7 yearling calves he'd just unloaded into that pen start trotting up the drive way and down the road. I bolt up to my aunt's, hoping to get ahead of them and turn them down her driveway so we can herd them down into the fenced field by the barn.
Well, the stopped at the driveway as I was getting to her garage, looked down it, got spooked by a car and kept going down the road. Headed through some backyards, through our hay fields, through the fairgrounds and the gravel pit/shooting range, and into the woods. My mother, son, and I are in the Jeep now, driving down the roads looking for these stupid animals; my father's on the way back from the auction.
Oh, and he borrowed my car and it's overheating while blasting cold air through the vents for no good reason - unless you count popping the cap off the coolant tank a good reason (not that we knew that at the time).
We found a guy from National Grid in his cherry picker down by the railroad tracks; he agreed to keep an eye out and call us. He did spot them, once, and called as promised. Then the train came and blew its horn. (Not their fault. There's a grade crossing nearby and they have to hit the horns.) We also ran into a surveyor who promised to call if he saw anything, too.
Well, 1 of the little ^&*^ got separated and I got a bead on him. Tracked him in circles through the brush/woods. Oh, did I mention these were brush raised calves? So stuff that would cause ours to pause unless they were already panicked, yeah, these guys walked through like nothing. I was following him through a stream, in boots that had a crack. It's December. In western MA. Lost him in the brush again. (Up near where Chapman hits Old East, if you're looking at the map.)
Get back in the Jeep. Pick up Dad down by the Cherry Picker (who has now had to leave). Get a call the the calf is down by Burger King. Head down there, and me, Dad, and my son hop out to try to herd this guy back towards our street and down the road to our place. Nope. Little ^&^&* heads towards our road, across our road, and into the woods. (Oh, and these guys know nothing about rope leading or following a bucket of grain, so we're really screwed.)
So now we're wandering through the woods and lawns. One guy thinks he's going to help. Thanks, hon, but please stop running. No, really. He's just going to run faster. Please, don't tell your wife to get the video camera. No, trust me, you can't get ahead of him like that. Oh, look, now he's actually running, not that slow trot he was doing earlier. Thanks oh so much. Oh, sure, you and your daughters can tag along. Just ... stay way back there. (You'll get bored/tired soon. Yep, there you go! Thanks, anyways!) OK, I really did appreciate the thought, but I wish he had listened to me.
After 3 hours of this BS, we finally lost him in a thicket of pine trees someone had planted as a privacy screen. The other 6 are gods-know-where. To hell with this. We start walking (from New Lenox), and get picked up by Mom over on East. My husband has the little guy and was supposed to be in bed (3rd shift) half an hour ago. The party starts in 1/2 hour. The chores aren't done yet.
OK, skip the chores. Dad'll chop a load of grass to hold them over. I'll take my car, fill it's tank, and get a few cans of gas for the tractor. My husband has already looked at the car, seen the cap was off, and figured whoever filled it last didn't tighten it down properly. So more fluid in the tank, put the cap on, and off I go.
Get to the gas station. Fill my car first. Turn around to start filling cans, and psssssss onto the ground goes ~1/2 gallon of gas. Keep in mind, this is the car I've ranted about having to install a brand new tank to the tune of $500 already. In August. It's now December. Wonderful.
Call Mom. Get the car pushed off the spill while waiting for her, so I can watch the car for more leaks. So far, so good. Except the coolant cap has popped off and blown out it's contents again. Joy. Last of the coolant, crank the heat (ha!) and off we go to the High school. I want them to tell me what's wrong before I take it back to the guy I paid to fix the tank the first time.
Got halfway there, and the heat finally kicks on, dropping the engine temp back to normal. Thank god. Parked the car @ the school, got home, took my shower, and emailed the Auto Shop teacher.
Got to the party, (Dad and the kids had been picked up by M already) and that went fine. Loud music, but that was ok. Dad didn't see the party coming, and M had a great deal of fun harassing him, making him slow dance w/ Mom (it's their 32nd anniversary this Dec as well), 60 candles on the cake, that sort of stuff. M bought my beer, and I got to try some new stuff. Kids get pooped early (and the older one had animals to bring in for the night), so Mom took us home, so she can come back for Dad.
Eeeeexcept we get halfway home to see blue lights. The cops have located another calf. Hey, M, can you bring Dad to the house so he can get his truck? Mom's still yakking with the cops and I think she'd get miffed if I hopped into the front and left her there.
Oh well. Got home. Kids taken care of. Beer consumed. Knitting progressed. If anyone sees any more of these calves, you're on your own. My legs are still a little sore and I'm going to bed.
Just for reference, here's a map of the area I covered (click to enlarge). Almost entirely on foot. It's not level by a long shot, and you can see only 1/2 is "developed" (meaning: cleared). If the scale on the bottom means nothing, just keep in mind it's about 1/4 mile from the Chapman / Holmes corner to our house.
Oh, and the auto teacher said the gas thing was the seal on the filler neck was wonky, so they reseated it, and we'll see. They're going to check the heat thing later today. Need to make more cookies for those guys.
ETA: Dad brought home chickens on Thursday, and said I could take 1 hen for every rooster I was willing to give up, so we have 2 new hens and 1 Polish rooster (he was a 2:1 swap). (There was a white Silkie that looked just like the one that got killed, but a raccoon found a hole in their pen that I missed, so we lost him and 2 of the hens. Oh well. Made the choice of which rooster to beg for easier. XP)
Sunday morning, I'm helping my son do the chores (lay out grain for the cows, let them in & lock them up, do other crap, chase cows out) because my father was going to help out at an auction. We had to have everything done and be showered by 1, because Dad had a "company Xmas party" to go to, and we were all invited. He thought it was because M (it's a family business) is just a very energetic and perky woman, and would invite random people off the street if she could. Nope, she was sneaking him a 60th b-day party as well! (His b-day is late December).
Anyway, we just get down the barn and my son is filling pails of grain. I'm on the phone w/Dad to ask him ... something. I forget what, now. And I look back up the hill towards the house to see the 7 yearling calves he'd just unloaded into that pen start trotting up the drive way and down the road. I bolt up to my aunt's, hoping to get ahead of them and turn them down her driveway so we can herd them down into the fenced field by the barn.
Well, the stopped at the driveway as I was getting to her garage, looked down it, got spooked by a car and kept going down the road. Headed through some backyards, through our hay fields, through the fairgrounds and the gravel pit/shooting range, and into the woods. My mother, son, and I are in the Jeep now, driving down the roads looking for these stupid animals; my father's on the way back from the auction.
Oh, and he borrowed my car and it's overheating while blasting cold air through the vents for no good reason - unless you count popping the cap off the coolant tank a good reason (not that we knew that at the time).
We found a guy from National Grid in his cherry picker down by the railroad tracks; he agreed to keep an eye out and call us. He did spot them, once, and called as promised. Then the train came and blew its horn. (Not their fault. There's a grade crossing nearby and they have to hit the horns.) We also ran into a surveyor who promised to call if he saw anything, too.
Well, 1 of the little ^&*^ got separated and I got a bead on him. Tracked him in circles through the brush/woods. Oh, did I mention these were brush raised calves? So stuff that would cause ours to pause unless they were already panicked, yeah, these guys walked through like nothing. I was following him through a stream, in boots that had a crack. It's December. In western MA. Lost him in the brush again. (Up near where Chapman hits Old East, if you're looking at the map.)
Get back in the Jeep. Pick up Dad down by the Cherry Picker (who has now had to leave). Get a call the the calf is down by Burger King. Head down there, and me, Dad, and my son hop out to try to herd this guy back towards our street and down the road to our place. Nope. Little ^&^&* heads towards our road, across our road, and into the woods. (Oh, and these guys know nothing about rope leading or following a bucket of grain, so we're really screwed.)
So now we're wandering through the woods and lawns. One guy thinks he's going to help. Thanks, hon, but please stop running. No, really. He's just going to run faster. Please, don't tell your wife to get the video camera. No, trust me, you can't get ahead of him like that. Oh, look, now he's actually running, not that slow trot he was doing earlier. Thanks oh so much. Oh, sure, you and your daughters can tag along. Just ... stay way back there. (You'll get bored/tired soon. Yep, there you go! Thanks, anyways!) OK, I really did appreciate the thought, but I wish he had listened to me.
After 3 hours of this BS, we finally lost him in a thicket of pine trees someone had planted as a privacy screen. The other 6 are gods-know-where. To hell with this. We start walking (from New Lenox), and get picked up by Mom over on East. My husband has the little guy and was supposed to be in bed (3rd shift) half an hour ago. The party starts in 1/2 hour. The chores aren't done yet.
OK, skip the chores. Dad'll chop a load of grass to hold them over. I'll take my car, fill it's tank, and get a few cans of gas for the tractor. My husband has already looked at the car, seen the cap was off, and figured whoever filled it last didn't tighten it down properly. So more fluid in the tank, put the cap on, and off I go.
Get to the gas station. Fill my car first. Turn around to start filling cans, and psssssss onto the ground goes ~1/2 gallon of gas. Keep in mind, this is the car I've ranted about having to install a brand new tank to the tune of $500 already. In August. It's now December. Wonderful.
Call Mom. Get the car pushed off the spill while waiting for her, so I can watch the car for more leaks. So far, so good. Except the coolant cap has popped off and blown out it's contents again. Joy. Last of the coolant, crank the heat (ha!) and off we go to the High school. I want them to tell me what's wrong before I take it back to the guy I paid to fix the tank the first time.
Got halfway there, and the heat finally kicks on, dropping the engine temp back to normal. Thank god. Parked the car @ the school, got home, took my shower, and emailed the Auto Shop teacher.
Got to the party, (Dad and the kids had been picked up by M already) and that went fine. Loud music, but that was ok. Dad didn't see the party coming, and M had a great deal of fun harassing him, making him slow dance w/ Mom (it's their 32nd anniversary this Dec as well), 60 candles on the cake, that sort of stuff. M bought my beer, and I got to try some new stuff. Kids get pooped early (and the older one had animals to bring in for the night), so Mom took us home, so she can come back for Dad.
Eeeeexcept we get halfway home to see blue lights. The cops have located another calf. Hey, M, can you bring Dad to the house so he can get his truck? Mom's still yakking with the cops and I think she'd get miffed if I hopped into the front and left her there.
Oh well. Got home. Kids taken care of. Beer consumed. Knitting progressed. If anyone sees any more of these calves, you're on your own. My legs are still a little sore and I'm going to bed.
Just for reference, here's a map of the area I covered (click to enlarge). Almost entirely on foot. It's not level by a long shot, and you can see only 1/2 is "developed" (meaning: cleared). If the scale on the bottom means nothing, just keep in mind it's about 1/4 mile from the Chapman / Holmes corner to our house.
Oh, and the auto teacher said the gas thing was the seal on the filler neck was wonky, so they reseated it, and we'll see. They're going to check the heat thing later today. Need to make more cookies for those guys.
ETA: Dad brought home chickens on Thursday, and said I could take 1 hen for every rooster I was willing to give up, so we have 2 new hens and 1 Polish rooster (he was a 2:1 swap). (There was a white Silkie that looked just like the one that got killed, but a raccoon found a hole in their pen that I missed, so we lost him and 2 of the hens. Oh well. Made the choice of which rooster to beg for easier. XP)