Rain, It’s so Lovely in the Rain

     It is alumni weekend, Memorial Day, time to remember.  Who can remember a wetter May?  I think it was May of 1958 (could have been ’57) when the “bottom” went out of the roads and the school bus mired down in the middle the road and had to be pulled out with a tractor—not once, but many times.

     The moisture was welcome, but it grew a little tiresome, especially when the last day of school picnic, usually held at Walk’s Camp Park, had to be held in the school building instead.  I remember a huge volley ball game in the gym with a few adults joining the kids.

    There has been a dearth of days in the past few years when a person had to work indoors.  This May has made up for that lack.  The old shop stove has seen more duty in the past two weeks than it has in the past ten years.

 

    Gone (but not forgotten) is the Ford tractor.  It got a three-hour workout Friday during a rare half day of sunshine.  It worked!  The hydraulic system needs a bit of adjustment, but the lift arms held steady instead of wandering up and down indiscriminately as in the past.  The best part, it hasn’t leaked any gear oil.  No longer can you see where it sat for a while by the three grease spots on the ground beneath the PTO and the lift arms.

     A “new” vice replaced the old one.  The new one is much bigger.

 

     Meanwhile, between rain squalls, a crew managed to cut up and remove the top section from Tower 117 that has been lying in the CRP for a couple of years.

 

 

    The real beneficiary of the rain is the wheat, which has been trying for a week to head out.  The cool weather slows things down.  We will have a crop of rust, too, no doubt, with the extended damp conditions.

 

     The class of ’65 had to meet in town at a local restaurant instead of the farm.  The roads were far too muddy for the old folks to negotiate. It took us almost 30 minutes to travel the six miles from farm to hard surface road.

     The restaurant was full of former Genoaites, a ‘50’s class and some other 60’s folks in addition to us.  We reconvened in a local motel where the out-of-towners are staying and made use of their breakfast room.  There we could talk and be heard.  There were quite a few hearing aids tucked away in ears.  Not me, yet.  “What’s that you say, Dear?”

 

      Still to go, the alumni meeting for all the classes.  But the sun is shining.  The unpaved road portion of our trip shouldn’t be quite so onerous.  Let us go therefore and renew old acquaintances, for auld lang zyne.