12-17-2020, 06:14 AM
Hi good Rogue people'
Little story here and I will post a pic when 'true love' comes home.
So 'truey' (missus) and son (child No. 7.) headed into the 'big smoke' (town) for some shopping and xmas prezzies. Me, I went to work this morning and did what I could. Came home. Raining heavily in our neck of the woods. So I'm back at home and truey (before they leave) asked if I'd like to join her and number '7' . I says, "Yeah,,,, Nah." Stayed at home. There was the biggest mob of alcoholic beverages to be had. Kinda like a 'licorice all sorts'.
I was instructed by 'true love' to do 'stuff'. "Sure" I answered. I got that terrible laser type one-eyed look. I gave the fridge a glance.
In my mind, the left side of my left over brain was sounding alarms, not bells, but that song "Yoo-Hoo.".
'7' is the last of our children to remain at home. He and 'true love drove' off to the 'verbotin regions' (town) to do shopping.
"YES" time to myself.
So I get's myself together after a couple of 'Cougar' bourbons. A break in the rain. Starts picking up recent pruning from the citrus, apple and pear trees, stacks them on the spit fire pit, (nothin like aged fruit tree pruning's for a good spit roast.). 'Great'; Cracks a frothie.
Goes to "Timmy". 'Timmy' is my tractor. Not a flash one. Old. 2 cylinder diesel Italian (SAME) job. Fuels him up. Grabs my frothie and a rollie. Lights us both up. Sets the 'slasher' and away we go. The 'slasher' is set to cutting low and starts taking out a corridor of high grass growing from the recent heavy rains. I drive from one paddock to the next and navigate my way through a couple of left over old burnt fence posts (Lat years fire) and engage the throttle. Off we go 'Timmy' (my name for the tractor). me, beer and rollie in the rain. We're cuttin mate! Doin a job for 'true love'. She'll be proud.
I rounds the back yard to start my first run up to the house then down. I starts drinking a bottle. And 'choofin' a rollie (tobacco). No need for hands, the throttle is set.
The passing scenery stopped while the engine revved at 2 and a half. Slasher sent mud everywhere and sloppy slush from the rear tyres started falling about like spray. I shuts down to idle. Thinks,,,'I'm obviously bogged'. Sure enough I'm sunk. I survey the situation. Chucks back another gulp. Looking. Looking. "What's that there stupid?" (Goes through my mind). It's the wheel from the front left of 'Timmy' lying in the mud to, of all places, my right side.
"Crikey, Strewth, Goddammit" Try to do the right thing and shit happens. So to cut a longer story short I spent about an hour trying to resolve the situ. Rain started pissing down. Nup, up to the house to think this whole incident over. I came to the conclusion hat I'll leave the 'crime scene' where it is, Leastways 'truey' will believe me.
As if, on cue, the phone rings. Yes, it's 'truey'. She asks,"be home in about 2 hours, anything you want?" I answered, "Yeah,,, nah but I could do with a new tractor, Timmy is sunk, lost a wheel mate."
I explained what happened, the tragic circumstances and why I can't do nothin because of the massive epic torrential down pour I'm experiencing. Did the old sadness thing.
Truey asks concerned, " Are you alright mate, I know you love 'Timmy'.'
I replied,"yeah,,,nah...but I could with another bottle of 'cougar', I'm devastated honey bunny."
"No wukkers pookie poo. Hang in there." (Gotta love truey)
So, here I sit pouring out this story, chucking back frothies and choofin on my rollie tobacco.
My 'Oscar' performance is to come.
I will send pics of the 'crime scene' when 'true love' comes home. She has the iPhone. I'll point, saying, "Look. look, here. Get a pic of that" Laying on the bullshit drama of it all.
More to come,
Kindest regards,
Bally:)
Little story here and I will post a pic when 'true love' comes home.
So 'truey' (missus) and son (child No. 7.) headed into the 'big smoke' (town) for some shopping and xmas prezzies. Me, I went to work this morning and did what I could. Came home. Raining heavily in our neck of the woods. So I'm back at home and truey (before they leave) asked if I'd like to join her and number '7' . I says, "Yeah,,,, Nah." Stayed at home. There was the biggest mob of alcoholic beverages to be had. Kinda like a 'licorice all sorts'.
I was instructed by 'true love' to do 'stuff'. "Sure" I answered. I got that terrible laser type one-eyed look. I gave the fridge a glance.
In my mind, the left side of my left over brain was sounding alarms, not bells, but that song "Yoo-Hoo.".
'7' is the last of our children to remain at home. He and 'true love drove' off to the 'verbotin regions' (town) to do shopping.
"YES" time to myself.
So I get's myself together after a couple of 'Cougar' bourbons. A break in the rain. Starts picking up recent pruning from the citrus, apple and pear trees, stacks them on the spit fire pit, (nothin like aged fruit tree pruning's for a good spit roast.). 'Great'; Cracks a frothie.
Goes to "Timmy". 'Timmy' is my tractor. Not a flash one. Old. 2 cylinder diesel Italian (SAME) job. Fuels him up. Grabs my frothie and a rollie. Lights us both up. Sets the 'slasher' and away we go. The 'slasher' is set to cutting low and starts taking out a corridor of high grass growing from the recent heavy rains. I drive from one paddock to the next and navigate my way through a couple of left over old burnt fence posts (Lat years fire) and engage the throttle. Off we go 'Timmy' (my name for the tractor). me, beer and rollie in the rain. We're cuttin mate! Doin a job for 'true love'. She'll be proud.
I rounds the back yard to start my first run up to the house then down. I starts drinking a bottle. And 'choofin' a rollie (tobacco). No need for hands, the throttle is set.
The passing scenery stopped while the engine revved at 2 and a half. Slasher sent mud everywhere and sloppy slush from the rear tyres started falling about like spray. I shuts down to idle. Thinks,,,'I'm obviously bogged'. Sure enough I'm sunk. I survey the situation. Chucks back another gulp. Looking. Looking. "What's that there stupid?" (Goes through my mind). It's the wheel from the front left of 'Timmy' lying in the mud to, of all places, my right side.
"Crikey, Strewth, Goddammit" Try to do the right thing and shit happens. So to cut a longer story short I spent about an hour trying to resolve the situ. Rain started pissing down. Nup, up to the house to think this whole incident over. I came to the conclusion hat I'll leave the 'crime scene' where it is, Leastways 'truey' will believe me.
As if, on cue, the phone rings. Yes, it's 'truey'. She asks,"be home in about 2 hours, anything you want?" I answered, "Yeah,,, nah but I could do with a new tractor, Timmy is sunk, lost a wheel mate."
I explained what happened, the tragic circumstances and why I can't do nothin because of the massive epic torrential down pour I'm experiencing. Did the old sadness thing.
Truey asks concerned, " Are you alright mate, I know you love 'Timmy'.'
I replied,"yeah,,,nah...but I could with another bottle of 'cougar', I'm devastated honey bunny."
"No wukkers pookie poo. Hang in there." (Gotta love truey)
So, here I sit pouring out this story, chucking back frothies and choofin on my rollie tobacco.
My 'Oscar' performance is to come.
I will send pics of the 'crime scene' when 'true love' comes home. She has the iPhone. I'll point, saying, "Look. look, here. Get a pic of that" Laying on the bullshit drama of it all.
More to come,
Kindest regards,
Bally:)