Nil, zero, none, zip, nada. Try locking me in an office and see what kind of mess you'll have on your hands. I belong out of doors. It will be my epitaph: Any day outdoors was better than a day indoors.
Even if the Heat index hovers in the triple digits.
Don't box me in!
Thursday, in a nutshell: I'd rather play in a hot hay loft than sit at a desk.
Dakota: "I'm not throwing 400 bales on my own!"
As if Flynn and I would abandon him.
Kill, yes, abandon, no.
No telling how hot it was in the loft. Handy for dropping two dress sizes in a few hours.
Nurse Peter makes the rounds.
Garrett tries to rally the troops.
One task completed means another one magically materializes.
You wear a lot of different hats working at this farm.
I added to my wardrobe last night:
Yes, yes, yes! I rode around in a fire engine.
Huge thanks to the Hatchechubbee Volunteer Fire Department for coming to the farm after their regular day jobs to help me test our dry hydrant.
My friend, Jason, who orchestrated the event, checks on his connection to the dry hydrant. Explanation: our white PVC pipe goes underground to the lake, in case of fire, the FD can pump lake water to fill their tank. Unfortunately, the water spraying out of the cannon is not from the lake, it's what was already in the tanker.
I was terribly excited for nothing.
Was I allowed to play with the fascinating control panel?
I am relegated to find out what's stopping up the pipe in the lake.
Oh joy. There's a first time for everything. Alligators and snapping turtles in the back of my mind for two hours.
Trying to find the pipe in the muck. Got it. End is at a 5' depth. After much wrestling, I manage to pull the end up and wedge rocks underneath it, clear the holes and still it doesn't work.
Through much (much) back and forth, by dusk, we ascertain that the installation 15 years ago was never completed. The temporary end on the line is unsuitable and needs a proper strainer and basket. Looks like "I'll be back".