Monday, October 15, 2012

Sometimes you just know when the time is right

Cliff has been making noises all summer about selling the motorcycle.  For quite a while I protested, telling him we should keep it around simply for short jaunts, if nothing else.  We sold one motorcycle, and ended up getting another one within a couple of months because we missed it so much.  But I've started paying attention to what my husband says, and I think maybe it is time.
For one thing, he says driving the Gold Wing wears him out.  He works very hard at staying alert, which is SO necessary on a motorcycle, with half the drivers around you chatting on cell phones and some of them even texting.  We've been lucky to have not had any accidents, although there have been a couple of close calls.  Cliff is right to feel that he can't let down his guard for a second, but it's so tiring for him that if we ride over two hours, he comes home, plops on the couch, and dozes off.    
Now that he's retired, his tractor hobby has become his priority.  I honestly don't think he would miss the motorcycle that much, he keeps so busy with the tractors.  Selling the motorcycle would put more dollars in his tractor fund and allow him to keep doing what he loves best.
So we may be putting old "White Lightening" on Craigslist before long.  This isn't the time of year to sell a motorcycle, so it probably won't go anywhere until March, when everybody starts getting spring fever.  But something tells me we would do well to quit while we're ahead.
Cliff's brother and his wife came up from Kansas to attend a birthday party for their older brother.  They came a day early so Don, a mechanic by trade, could help Cliff on an old John Deere he recently bought from a neighbor.  The tractor had been parked for over twenty years, and the engine was stuck. They got it "unstuck", but found out the block is going to have to have bigger holes bored in it.  I really hope I am phrasing this right, because Cliff is still in bed asleep and I don't know what the heck I am talking about.  Anyhow, Don offered to take the tractor home with him and do that little job.
Basically what all this means is that this tractor is turning into a money hole, a common occurrence around here.  But I digress.
Don hooked onto Cliff's big trailer, and they loaded the tractor for its trip to Kansas.




Cliff will still have plenty to do.  The 550 Oliver has quite a way to go before it's ready to paint, and there's a big 1655 Oliver that could use some work, if he ever gets the other projects done.  
My heifer, Jody, is going to the butcher shop tomorrow.  Her limp is getting progressively worse, and there's no way she would make it till February when her calf is due.  If she were to get so bad she couldn't walk, the butcher shop wouldn't be able to take her because the law won't let them butcher "downer cows".  That's because a cow that can't get up might have a disease, for all they know.  Also, if she were to get to the point where she was lying down more than she was up grazing, she would start losing weight and the quality of the meat would be affected.  The oldest grandson is going to pay for processing and take half the meat.  We'll probably have it mostly put into hamburger, although Cliff will go look at the carcass and see what it looks like before we decide for sure.  
We are thinking about buying a bull, which seems ridiculous when we only have two cows.  But it is such a hassle to load up the cows and haul them to Cliff's brother's place.  We probably won't get a Jersey bull because they are SO dangerous, so we're thinking Angus.  Forty-five years ago when we had our first few cows, you could rent a bull, keep him long enough to breed the cows, and then take him home.  For some reason, nobody rents bulls out any more.  
So that's what's happening here at Woodhaven Acres.   

Sunday, October 14, 2012

Raise a toast to old toasters

Back in March I complained in a blog entry about my dislike of modern toasters:  They take forever to toast the bread, and when it pops up it isn't even hot enough to melt butter.  
The other day Cliff and I were at Walmart and decided to buy another toaster.  Unfortunately, they all looked like the useless one we already have, so we came home without one.  When I think of the toasters I threw away over the years just because they had become unsightly, it makes me sad.  Now money won't even buy a decent one.  Oh, they look nice, and they're easier to clean up; they just don't work.  
Somehow the subject of toasters came up yesterday when we were visiting with Cliff's brother and his wife, Mary.  I told them I was going to search on Ebay and find me an old toaster that would work.  
Mary said, "I've had my toaster since 1968, and it still works."  
Don said, "Yeah, and you don't even have to lower the toast; when you put it in the toaster, it goes down automatically."  


This is not the exact toaster I bought.
Sounded like a nifty feature to me.  Looking on Ebay, it didn't take me long to find one like the one Don and Mary described.  In fact, I found two of them.  The top bid on one was nine dollars, with four hours left on the auction.  I left a bid, with my top bid being $30.00, and we left to go to Cliff's brother Phil's surprise birthday party.  By the time the party was over,the toaster was mine, for exactly $30.00 plus about $13 shipping.  I'm not worried about it's condition or whether it will work, since the seller is a top-rated seller with 100% positive feedback.  He says it works, I believe him. 
This toaster seems to have something of a cult following.  It was made from 1949 on into the '90's, so used ones are plentiful (I got the information HERE).  Mine is probably from the 80's, because the control is on the front of the toaster and appears to be a brighter color.  
I've already paid for it with Paypal, and I hope to receive it within the week.  On the day it is delivered, Cliff and I will have breakfast for dinner to celebrate its arrival.  I am a happy camper.  
And what will we do with our present toaster?  I shall present it to my son-in-law to use as target practice.