Small town stuff

No particular reason for sharing this except that I like it

Our weekend was a good one.  The daughter's car, formerly known as the Smokin' Hot Neon, is back on the road after the deer incident, but still having some problems.  She's had it in the shop a couple of times, with Cliff trying to help her fix things.  One problem seems to be unfixable:  the left headlight aims way too high, and because the car is mostly plastic, there doesn't seem to be a way of bending things to get it right.  Rachel was concerned about taking up so much of her dad's weekend, but as I told her, every day is his weekend now and it isn't that big a deal.  My sister-in-law Rena and I just go sit in the shop with our dogs and watch the action, which makes it a family gathering.    
The grandson and Heather showed up yesterday to do some target practicing.  Later on they went to the river bottom to shoot, with more friends.  They found cops there, waiting to catch some local boys riding unlicensed four-wheelers and dirt bikes down there.  My grandson called and warned the boys.  It's a small town; young folks watch out for one another, knowing they may be the next ones doing something mischievous and needing a heads-up.  
It's none of my business.  


A couple of weeks ago, Cliff advertised his prize tractor, the one he so laboriously restored, for sale.  He put what he thought was a ridiculous price on it.  Over the past week he has received quite a few calls, and today a guy is coming from St. Louis (200 miles away) to look at it.  I think Cliff is a little nervous now. 

Here's the "before" picture.  

Here's "after".

I'll let you know if it sells. 

A couple of perplexing things concerning my blog lately.  First of all, the entry right below this one has been tweeted four times and shared seven times on Facebook.  For the life of me, I can't imagine why anybody would think that entry is interesting enough to share.  Maybe it's the kittens?  

The other thing is this:  When I checked to see what websites bring people to my blog, I found THIS BLOG was sending a reader or two here every day.  Yesterday I finally found out I am listed under blogs he reads.  Now I can't imagine what first drew him here; my daughter suggested maybe the entries I've done about them doing so much shooting in the pasture.  

You will now find his site listed under "links" where it says "I link to him because he links to me".  

Linky-love, don't you know?  If you love guns, I imagine you'll like his blog.  I don't think many of my readers are gun nuts.  

And that's your report from someone living about two hundred yards off Redneck Road.

The new header picture

About my new header picture:  Of course I have already posted pictures of the finished Oliver 1855 project, but our daughter has a professional-quality camera, and Cliff wanted some real glamour shots of his tractor.  She took a LOT of pictures and posted them on Facebook.

The picture my son chose as the best one had one little flaw; a green metal stool had been left in place after Cliff used it to climb up and put a different pipe on the tractor.  He suggested that Rachel have somebody photoshop the stool out of the picture.  Since Rachel works for a company that does photo-processing for professional photographers, she has the resources and knows the right people to work such magic, and the resulting photo is the one on the header.   Here's a slideshow of most of the pictures she took that day.  Unless you are a tractor aficionado, you'll probably want to skip the slideshow.

Toward the end, you'll see some pretty young ladies in the pictures; they are granddaughters Natalie and Monica.

First thing I read this morning on the Internet was that there was an earthquake in Oklahoma, and that it was felt by some in Kansas City.  Now that's getting a little too close to home.  Many years ago when we lived on our first acreage, Cliff and I were lying in bed one morning and felt a small earthquake.  What a strange feeling.  (Added later:  Cliff tells me he felt the quake last night and thought the dog was under the couch moving it, which would have been a feat in itself because our couch only clears the floor by about an inch.  I was asleep by then, therefore blissfully ignorant.)


Iris is 100% herself, back to watching TV with us and attacking any animals that show up on the screen.  Last night I knew she was fine when she started devouring the dog food that had been untouched for twenty-four hours.

The 1855 project, finally finished

Cliff received the last of the decals needed to finish Ollie off.  She's been here two-and-a-half years, and is finally restored.  (Of course, she still hasn't been "broke in".  Sheesh.)  Cliff took these shots himself; I was elbow deep in sweet potatoes when he was ready for pictures.  He should have waited, because I wouldn't have had the structures in the background of some of the pictures, especially the foreclosed-upon monstrosity of a house next door.  Our daughter is going to take some real glamour-shots with her fancy-schmancy camera, later on.
Click on any picture to make it larger.

The last shot shows his next project sitting in the barn, patiently waiting.  


This hobby is one reason Cliff is going to work one week out of the month; restoring old tractors is outrageously expensive, and he's addicted to his hobby.  You seldom get your investment back when you sell a restored tractor.  He doesn't have plans to sell this one for a long, long time.
His other motivation is that he wants to go on a road trip next summer.  We have enough money coming in to get by just fine here at home, but not enough to travel very far.  
I had nothing to do with his decision to work part-time, and no, he isn't going back to work "because he's a man and feels like he has to work".  Trust me, he is loving retirement, and has not been bored for a single moment.  
The money he brings home from his part-time job will be strictly his and will go for whatever purpose he sees fit.  

Sunday

My daughter took pictures of Cliff's activities in the shop yesterday.  I stole them off Facebook.  

That tire is filled with fluid, so it's heavier than you can imagine.  Cliff spent a couple of hours trying to get it lined up with the bolts on the tractor.  Nothing about putting this tractor back together has been easy.  

Close, but no cigar.  Since son-in-law Kevin was there to help, the finally devised a way to get things lined up.  

They managed to get it on a creeper and roll it up to the wheel.  That didn't make it easy, but at least it made it possible.   

My great-granddaughter and I watched the action.  If I look totally pooped in this picture, it's because I was.  I'm not ready to tell you the harrowing story of how my morning went.  
I had planned stir-fry for me and Cliff for dinner, but thanks to the fact that hamburger can be thawed in a microwave, the rest of the crew had cheeseburgers.  Cliff loves stir-fry, but I think when he smelled the burgers cooking he would have rather had a burger.  

And now, back to regular blogging

I spent some time yesterday watching shows about 9/11.  Back in 2001, I recall leaving the TV off because I couldn't bear to watch any more footage showing what had happened.  Now, enough time has passed so that I can take it in in small doses.  
In 2001, I was keeping in touch with several of my old Internet chat room friends:  Joanna was near Washington, DC, so of course she was shaken by the fact that the Pentagon was attacked.  Maria was in Buffalo, New York, close enough to the World Trade Center that she felt the attack was right in her own back yard, so to speak (Maria, do you still read this mess?  I have been trying to reach you by email).  I was working at Kohl's distribution center when my associate supervisor made the rounds to tell all of us that a plane had hit World Trade Center.  Cliff and I had spent the previous weekend in Arkansas, staying one night with another Internet friend (also a real-life friend) who had plans to fly to Texas on the morning of 9/11 and meet one of her daughters.  Then the two of them were going to board a plane together and fly to Washington state and visit another daughter.  So when I heard about a plane crashing into a building, my first thought was that my friend was flying that day.  As it happened, she got stranded in Texas for a few days and eventually rented a car and drove home.   
I know some people don't want to hear any more about all that mess that happened ten years ago.  The wonderful thing is, they don't have to.  You can change the channel or turn off the TV and computer and do other things.  The main thing that motivates me to participate in Project 2,996  is the occasional comment like these: "Thank you for doing this for my friend" "Thank you for the personal, moving tribute; Christopher was a distant cousin that I never knew.  Thanks to your comments, I now have some insight into what a wonderful person he was." 
I am still home-bound with my cow, whose calf is perfectly happy to partake of the milk from the front teats, with an occasional hit on the two back ones.  This has worked out well for Cliff, who feels he has an obligation to take me to see the Grand Canyon but would much rather stay home and work on his 1855 Oliver tractor.  He's sandblasted and primed the hulking beast, and before you know it, it will look as though it came fresh from the factory, with bright Oliver-green paint, new decals and all.  
Remember almost a month ago when we came home from the state fair and found Bonnie's calf had fallen into a canyon?    Up until that day, Bonnie had a favorite shaded spot right at the western rim of that canyon where she would go to escape the heat.  There is a large, grassy area at that side of the ditch that we call "the point".  It has always been a choice grazing area for any animals living on our place.  But since Bonnie's calf fell into the ditch, she has not been anywhere on the west side of that ditch!  There's plenty of grazing in other places, but it can't be coincidence that she stays away from the area where she lost her baby for a few hours.  She used to spend most of her time over there.   
So, life goes on here; we are still having a string of perfect, autumn-like days that make a person happy to be alive.  I have a feeling that if the weather holds, we will at least get in a motorcycle day trip in the next day or two.

A brief entry about Cliff's Oliver 1855

A certain shorthorn farmer in Michigan wondered why I haven't been doing entries with pictures showing Cliff's progress on the big 1855 Oliver tractor, so here's the explanation, especially for ole Fernan.  
Last winter we had bone-chilling cold for months; usually in Missouri there are occasional days during the winter when temperatures will get as high as sixty.  Not last winter.  So, Cliff couldn't paint his 1855 because of the cold.  
As it started to warm up, it began to rain... every.  single.  day.  On the rare days when it wasn't raining, the humidity was super high.  Guess what?  You can't paint a tractor when there's high humidity.  
Cliff still hadn't worked the tractor enough hours for it to be "broke in", and he couldn't do much with it disassembled.  He was itching to get on that tractor, but it was in pieces waiting for a paint job.  
So on our son's last visit in June, he and Cliff put the whole mess back together.  It worked out well, because they found some issues that needed attention.  The tractor can now be taken out and worked hard (when Cliff can find something on forty-two acres that can use that big a tractor), although it still can't be taken for a simple joy-ride.  Because it isn't "broke in".  Do you know anybody in Missouri that would loan us a dyno? At least if we had one of those, the tractor would be broke in at one sitting, and ready to use.  
As far as mechanical issues, the tractor is sound and ready; oh, it has a few minor oil leaks like any tractor its age.  But it just can't be painted when the humidity is high or the temperatures are low.  On the rare day when humidity isn't so high and it isn't raining, we seem to disappear on the motorcycle.  
So there you have it, Fernan.  I hope that answers your questions.  
Meanwhile, Cliff has the new little Super 55 to tinker with.

Oliver 1855 update

This winter has not been a good one for working on old tractors.  Cliff's been itching to start painting some of the parts of his Ollie ever since he bought her, but it was not to be; we just couldn't get a break from the cold, rain, and humidity.  Today, finally, he got a perfect day for painting.  It started out cool, but warmed up rapidly.  The wind wasn't a problem, for once.  

This is the gas tank, which did not get painted today; once Cliff got it sand-blasted, he found a couple of tiny leaks that will need to be fixed.  

The parts were hung with care in front of the shop. 

Cliff once had a scary incident as the result of breathing paint fumes, so he's careful now to keep his home-made breathing device in place.  

Here he's moving a big ole tire back inside, after painting the wheel.  The whole thing outweighs him by a lot, and it makes me nervous to watch him moving it around.  
I convinced Cliff to take a vacation day today so he wouldn't be crowded for time.  He only works until midnight each night this week, since everybody has Good Friday off.  We might even get a motorcycle ride in before the big winds come in Wednesday.  

Mainly for my son (and any tractor aficionados)

There are two pieces missing from almost every Oliver 1855 you'll find: The battery cover and the hydraulics cover. Cliff's tractor lacked both pieces, and he spent hours on the phone calling tractor junk yards, searching for these objects.
The reason they've been "lost in the shuffle" is that they are a pain in the patoot to put back on, once they're removed. It wasn't necessary that they be on the tractor in order to use it, so most farmers tossed them in a corner and thought no more about it. They weren't worried about how pretty the tractor looked; they were busy making a living.
Cliff wants his Ollie to have every piece she started with, but no matter where he called, there were none to be had.

So he found a suitable piece of metal and made a battery cover himself; once the Oliver is finished, nobody will be able to tell it isn't original.

Here's a closer work; Cliff's very proud of his handiwork.

However, he was afraid to attempt the hydraulics cover, so he had my cousin do that. Is that guy talented, or what? He restores old cars as a hobby.

Cliff's toy is home

Cliff's brother, Don, had been working on a car that he got from their other brother, Phil, and had started to restore. In the end he decided it was too much work, so since he was bringing the trailer to haul Cliff's Oliver, he brought the car with him and unloaded it; Cliff will get it to Phil before long. So that's what you see in the first picture.

Cliff, Don, their sister Rena, and I made a party of it; there's plenty of room in Don's truck, and we all had fun on the trip to Kansas. There was nobody at the farm when we arrived, so Rena and I followed the sound of mooing cattle and found some beautiful Red Angus calves that were protesting being weaned.

Once the farmer arrived, he showed Cliff every detail he could think of about the tractor, and also hunted up the owner's manual for him. I had already ordered a service manual on Ebay (that's not the same as the owner's manual), and it arrived today about the same time as the tractor.

We all found it strange that a motorcyclist would have a huge flag on his bike, so when he pulled up beside us in Olathe, I snapped a couple of pictures. Everything taken after that was taken here at our place, and chronicle the unloading of the tractor.

If you want to see any of the pictures in more detail, just click on that picture.

On the search for another of Cliff's dream tractors

You city folks might want to skip this entry; once you've seen one tractor, you've seen them all, right?

As I said in the last entry, Cliff wants an old Oliver tractor. It's rather like he's trying to go back to a certain time in his life, back when my cousin Gerald had a big farm and Cliff helped him get his crops planted. Gerald had an Allis Chalmers D-17 Series IV that Cliff loved, and we eventually bought one of those that was Cliff's main tractor for years. He truly had his dream tractor. Once he bought the new John Deere, though, he hardly ever used it. So he sold it to an acquaintance who still thinks it's the best tractor ever.

So now, Cliff wants an Oliver Diesel tractor of the 55 series, another tractor my cousin farmed with, back in the day. He wasn't seeing many of them offered around here, so I suggested he put a "wanted to buy" ad in the farm and garden section of Craigslist.

A fellow from north Missouri called, saying he had one. Cliff mentioned to him that my relatives are originally from that area, and mentioned my mother's maiden name, Stevens.

The guy said, "I bought this tractor from a guy named Stevens." And he gave Cliff that phone number, so Cliff could ask questions about the tractor's previous history.

Cliff dialed the number and found himself talking to someone with whom he'd talked tractors at my last family reunion, a distant cousin. He learned that this particular Oliver had been "rode hard and put away wet", not taken care of at all.

So yesterday evening we went to see the tractor. Cliff started it up and rode it up and down the driveway; boy, did that thing smoke. While he was doing the test-drive, I learned that the present tractor owner's wife is the daughter of a cousin on my dad's side. Good grief, it's like I'm related to this Oliver!

Cliff really prefers the smaller 1655 to this huge 1855, but he'll take what he can get. We go to Kansas today to check out a whole barn full of Olivers; they'll likely be in better condition than the one we saw yesterday. I certainly hope so: That one would have to have an overhaul, which would cost us $3,000. I know this because Cliff talked to his overhaul man. It isn't a job he'd tackle himself.

If he ends up with a tractor like the one in the picture, I only hope there's room on our 42 acres for him to turn it around. That thing looks HUGE to me.