Of course they do. First to go this past week was the tractor. Son David was visiting, and he and his dad had the good idea to use the tractor’s bucket to pick up piles of wood from the downed trees on the property.
When they had identified the first load and maneuvered the machine next to the stack in the small triangle of pasture next to the barn the tractor declined to continue. Probably dead battery, they diagnosed. They would charge it from the pickup’s battery.
As the pickup was too large to navigate the remaining available space, Larry found extension cords from the barn, the sheds, the house, and finally had enough to extend to the truck from the outlet in the barn, and from the truck to the tractor.
Unfortunately, the tractor battery wouldn’t accept a charge. Wouldn’t do any better with the trickle charger (whatever that is) that Larry unearthed somewhere. Nothing to do but buy a new battery. But time had run out on David’s help and he headed back to his home in Kailua early the next morning.
And that morning, after he left, Larry and I headed for the John Deere dealership in Albany. It was interesting to learn from their records that we had purchased the tractor in 2015, probably our first acquisition after the weed-whackers I mentioned earlier.”Pretty good,” the dealer observed. “Most tractor batteries last only 6 to 7 years. You’ve had yours 10. If you bring it in you can get twenty bucks back.
This is when the fun began. To install a new battery you must first remove the old battery. Not that easy!
I have a great photo of Larry on his back with his head under the machine, but the system won’t let me load it here. Probably an unexpected kindness from the AI which governs this site/my digital life. But the next day, he did succeed in removing the deceased battery and installing the new. Hours. It took hours. It took help from me in holding the light, handing him the tools, making helpful suggestions. When he told me this morning that he’d installed it improperly and would have to schedule a do-over? Well. Sigh. What’s a wife to do?
Moving on. Yesterday afternoon, on seeing that the dishwasher was full and wouldn’t accommodate any addition, we loaded and turned the machine on. Going back into the kitchen a few moments later to check on something, I stepped into a puddle of water on the floor in front of the dishwasher. What the? Wonderful. The damn machine is broken, or something. Yep. Couldn’t find a way to finesse the load. It’s broken. The repair guy will be able to get to us Tuesday next week.
Okay, not tragic. Little Mary Sunshine here proclaimed that we were just so lucky that we hadn’t turned the thing on that evening and gone to bed? Wake up to the ruined kitchen floor? Mr. Bad Mood had to agree. But still.
Later that evening we had a phone call from daughter Jenny. She has undertaken the job of arranging for the new roof on our vacation house mandated by the fire codes at Black Butte, and has gone there for a couple of days to see about some other repairs as well. “There’s no hot water!” she tells us.
See what I mean? Larry and I have been watching a season of Clarkson’s Farm, and it wouldn’t be so funny if they didn’t make their mistakes, break things. Jeremy Clarkson’s tractor needs a new battery, he just buys a new tractor. A Lamborghini tractor. An option not available to most of us here on planet earth. So we muddle on. Don’t worry, Jenny called a plumber who came, evaluated, estimated, and has already installed a new water heater, which will be operative when Grandson Charlie and friend Arianne come to Black Butte for a stay after the 4th.
Hurry up and wait seems to be the only posture for work on the habitat work here. Larry is just now hiking down in the oak stand behind the house to see if he can identity the trees that James (remember James?) marked for protection last week. We have contracted a forestry specialist to suggest the best strategy for removal of at least half the trees, and feel comfortable knowing that two points of view will be under consideration when the removal begins.
Is it even funny to tell you that I saw him just now heading for the little chicken coop in the orchard? Where the chickens lay their eggs? Seems when mowing the orchard this afternoon he had to move the coop, and the ramp providing access to the nest broke.
Sigh. See you next time!
Lordy Lordy! Having fun yet??