Dumb and Dumber

I don’t know if an old dog can be taught new tricks.  I do know if an old man could be taught a lesson.  I had a decision to make as to whether I would write about the lesson I learned this week or take it to my grave.

I’ve decided to tell the story, since it is possible some of you might have seen it happen anyway.

Before I tell the story, I should say my oldest brother tells me I am one of the luckiest people on earth.   You decide if you think my luck was good or bad.  My brother feels I am lucky because a few years back, I was in a fast-food drive-up waiting for a burrito.  The car in line directly in front of me was a city police car.  When I arrived at the drive-up window the store person informed me my burrito was paid for by the car in front of me.  The policeman paid for my burrito.  Lucky or handsome?

One other thing.  We should all remember, no “bending, lifting, and twisting”.  I am not allowed to lift more than a gallon of milk.

I like to think that I am a knowledgeable construction ex-worker.  I like to think my knowledge came from two of the best construction minds that walked the planet. One from the residential world (Russ Brown) and one in the commercial world (John Smith). I could very easily write a book of stories about both men in my agricultural world, I am mostly self-taught, and based on this week, I’m not very bright.

If one of my construction employees had done what I did I would have fired them.  If one of my children had done what I did I would have sent them to boarding school.

Ok, here we go!

Many of you know, I purchased three yaks this spring.  What you don’t know is that they have grazed a large percentage of the grass I have available to them in my pastures.  I have had to supplement their feed by supplying them with hay.  I have two sources of hay, both sources provide me with 3x3x8 650-pound bales.

When the yaks need hay, I choose where I want to pick up hay by combining their location with other errands I need to run that day.

Last Monday I needed to go to town for a dermatologist appointment.  Nothing too serious, the doctor needed to play “scrape a mole” on my shoulder.  I decided to pick up a bale of hay on the way to the doctor appointment.

I arrived at the hay source and in a matter of minutes a young girl placed a bale on my truck.  Oh, come on, the bales weigh 650 pounds, of course she used a tractor.  I exchange pleasantries, paid for the hay and drove to my doctor appointment.

“Scrape a mole” didn’t take very long.  I decided to add another errand to my day.  Groceries.  The grocery store I like is on Main Street on the north end of town.  I drove down Main Street in the section of town we call Old Town, stopping at all the crosswalks and redlights.  I stopped at the last crosswalk/redlight on Main Street and waited my turn.  The light turned green and I started of to the grocery store.  I drove a couple lengths of my truck when I heard a big thump.  Not like a crash, like a thump.

I looked in my rearview mirror, and the horror started.  I saw my 650 pound bale of hay blocking the right lane of Main Street.  I hadn’t tied the bale to my pickup.  There was a man standing next too the bale and a pickup truck behind the bale.

I parked and got out of my truck, I would have preferred to run, but I didn’t.  I Instead I asked the man:

Me: Did the bale hit your truck? Man:  No, I’m going to use my truck and push the bale off the street Me: Are you sure you want to do that? Man:  Yeah, stand back.

As he pushed the bale I could hear his plastic grill being crushed.  Three men were standing on the side of the road watching.  When the first guy had the bale on the side of the road, these three guys tried to pick up one end of the bale.  It didn’t work.  The first guy joined in the lift.  They almost got it.  Another guy comes walking up the sidewalk.  He joined the lift.  They got it up this time.  Where was I?  No “bending, lifting, and twisting”.   I was on the phone trying to get a tractor to come by.  These five men put that hay bale back on the truck.  The 3x3x8 650 pound hay bale.

As I reached into my wallet to thank the five men they scattered like they were the ones that dropped the bale of the truck.  Not one left their name.  They just disappeared.

So, I’m not sure I am lucky.  Elaine tells me it’s just because I have kind eyes.

God Bless, (especially the five men), Love ya,  Tie down your hay!

Our CRAZY lives

Monner