October 2017

      Having been back from the Japan trip for a few days, I decided that jet lag was no longer an excuse for inactivity.  Time to rearrange the tractor stable, the red barn.

      Unlike barns of old, this cleanup didn’t require a scoop shovel.  It required a “tugboat”.

 

      The 2N Ford tractor answered the call.  Two of the old fellers left the barn under their own power.  Two needed help.

 

       The lineup:  R, 820, 830 (all diesels), and G (gas, and left outside due to being saddled with the Farmhand).  The left front tire of the R would not hold air, so the 820 was forced to lend a hand, or a foot, or whatever, to get the R mobile.

      The Ford had no trouble emptying the shed.  A chain running through a pipe served to pull the R and the D from their stalls.  Pulling worked well.  When it came time to push, however, it got a little more complicated.   A piece of angle iron got pressed into service, and the D went gently into its new stall.

    The R was a bit more difficult.  It was “never broke to lead”.  A longer chain came into play in order to keep the Ford out of the way when the R decided to coast during the maneuver to get it turned around and headed back into the barn.

       Once in the barn, I could shorten up the chain.  I had to switch from pulling to pushing for the last move.  The Ford wasn’t up to the task.  The wheels would spin in the loose dirt of the barn floor, the Ford rear end would shift left or right, the angle iron would pivot and fold back parallel to the R front axle, and the R would not move. 

     After a few attempts, the sun sank slowly in the west, and my energy ebbed with the sunset.  Several trips from Ford to R to turn the steering wheel this way or that way took their toll.  Maybe jet lag?  The project had to be put off until the next day.

      Ultimately, the 830 was pressed into service.  The 820 would have been easier to use, easier to see and to get off and on rather than up and into with the 830’s cab.  But the 820 was missing its left front wheel. 

      The three feet of angle iron didn’t allow much for safely stopping if something went amiss with the pushing operation.  On the other hand, the front end of the 830 wasn’t nearly as easily brushed aside, as had been the Ford’s rear-end.  Once lined up with the R, the 830 easily shoved it back into place.  It took two or three hitches, realigning a couple of times, but it happened without incident.

      Some work remained to do.  Put the combine header back in, putting the wheel back on the 820 and getting it back in the barn, finally putting the 830 in and draining the water out of it.  It all got done.

      When we left for Japan, the MET tower (http://50farm.blogspot.com/2017/09/things-going-down-lots-of-thingswent.html) in the middle of the field was gone, but not the concrete base.  I didn’t want to press the issue until the millet was picked up.  I had made one unanswered call and left a voice may message, but I never got a reply.  I put it off.

     I was all set to engage the wind energy company in that battle.  I went out to case the place and see what it would take to get rid of the concrete, or at least get it down below the surface far enough to be able to farm over it. 

     

    

      It wasn’t there!  Some good shoemaker’s elves had been there and done the work for me while I slept.                                                                                                                                                          

     A week or two later, I got a notice from Verizon that I had a new voice message.  When I accessed my voice mail, I had nine new messages, two of which were from the wind energy boys.                                                                                  

     The phone was shut off during the time we were in Japan.  When I reactivated it, it forgot to mention that I had a bunch of missed calls and several voice messages.  Thanks to good ol’ Verizon for updating me with a new and improved mailbox.  (Every voice message takes an additional thirty seconds to listen to now, as the mechanical voice tells me the number or name of the person the message came from, the day, the hour, and the message duration.)

      One of the messages informed me that the wind energy company had hired another contractor to come in with a backhoe or some other such tracked earthmover to get the concrete out of there.  I called the guy in charge. 

    He wasn’t happy with the first two guys who felled the tower.  They were supposed to do the entire job, he said.  He said they did a lousy job.  I said they really did a good job, destroying very little of the crop in removing the tower and its appurtenances.  He insisted they were hired to do the whole job.  I pointed out that they really weren’t equipped to handle the bigger chunk of concrete.  I didn’t change his mind.  I thanked him for getting the job done.

     The contractor did manage to do it when it was muddy, but I didn’t complain.  As long as I don’t snag on a big chunk of concrete with a chisel or disk, I will be happy.  No more guy wires to dodge.  No loose cables to avoid.  The bat-chirping trailer also disappeared.  From six objects to avoid, I’m down to one, the wind tower itself.