I arrived home from Sydney late after being away all week, everything looked fairly OK, except for an absence of cows, and a truck run into the fence..then there was a small issue with the toilet blocked up, the wood splitter missing and seven cats in the house.. So far to day I have dug up the sewer line and finally unblocked it, (was solid from pan to tank.. more on that later..) Replaced a neighbour’s gate post (not on a boundary fence, next to a shed which if he would agree with me as to the boundary fence location, would be 50 metres on his property..) Caught the patchygrot and extracted 37 cows and calves, two alpacas and 7 horses from the neighbour’s paddock. Unpacked my car.. in a moment I will go off to town for a fuel filter and tyre for the horse truck... BUT I still have to move the truck in the fence.. I asked my wife what happened, expecting a tale of malfeasance on the part of one or more of the ferals.. Nope. She has been home on her own much of the time.. it has been cold. As has been previously mentioned we have old and decrepit motor cars. My wifes (a particularly decrepit Magna) has a sad battery, she carries jumper leads, and usually hooks it to the battery charger overnight.. no probs. I pass you to my darling wife. well on Tuesday night it was very cold and the car had been starting really well so I didn’t put the battery charger on . When I tried to start it on Wednesday morning, it wouldn’t start. “No probs “ I thought, “I’ll just jump start it off the truck.” Unfortunately both the truck s were too far away from my car. I got in the little truck (the tipper we use for wood carting), not enough grunt to start it. Tried the big truck, it wound over all right, but after it stopped winding over I remembered Terry had taken a filter or something out of it last weekend. OK “I thought “I can do this”. Himself and the boys always roll start the little truck, so I get in again, and roll it back to where they turn it round.. Apparently I don’t have the knack, ços it stopped and wouldn’t roll down hill. I was getting a bit upset and rang Terry who was no help.. I didn’t mention the trucks -just that the car wouldn’t start. He told me to put the battery charger on it and wait for 20 minutes..”ha! “I thought “what would he know.” I decided to have another go at the little truck, I figured with a little push I could get it to roll, then could clutch start it and all would be well. I gave it a little push and it started to move.. I then discovered that I cannot at the age of 50 something, swing myself up into the drivers seat of a cab over truck while it is rolling. As the truck gathered speed down the hill I was in hot pursuit, knees around my ears as I accelerated and the plaintive cry of “f**k! F***K! F**K” echoing over the paddocks. In the words of the immortal poet, “the wombat in his burrow dug deeper underground” . My horse Blaze was watching with interest, as such terms of endearment are usually directed at him, everything else was scattering, except the dogs who thought I was heading off wood carting. The truck’s acceleration was better than my business attire clad best, but fortunately it swerved itself and ended nose first in the fence, without damaging either fence or truck. “Äh ha” I cried, went back, managed to coast my car next to the stuck truck (with only a moments panic when I discovered the lack of power steering and power brakes) then out with the trusty jumper leads, which gave just enough zoom to start my car and off I went to work.. the whole thing only took twice as long as putting the battery charger on. I count it as a win.” Friends, I ask you.. I always blamed the kids for the trail of destruction that seemed to occur when my back was turned..now I have my doubts! As to the sewer.. was blocked solid with kitty litter.
Posted on: Thu, 30 Oct 2014 09:47:18 +0000
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