Lime

Who'd thunk lime could provoke such an adventure?

Not this. 
But this kind of lime:

Note the remarkably well camouflaged Garrett.
Since November, I'd attempted every manner to coerce the only fertilizer guy in our area to apply lime to all our pastures.  Rather unsuccessfully.  Turns out he did us a favor.  By doing it ourselves, we're pay half the price per ton AND we'll have two tons left over for all the shrub beds everywhere on the grounds that are as acidic as pickle juice.  
But, first, one must travel two counties over to rent a spreader buggy.

I did my best to heed the 40 mph towing limit.  Having the posse with me helped pass the time.

Two excellent passengers in my back seat.

Captain Mayhem snorting bugs up his snout, then sneezing them out onto the windshield, dash and chauffeur.

Loading up the buggy before hooking up to it.  
Murphy's Law:  the co-op manager greatly overrated the repair work, supposedly completed the day I picked it up.  The drive wheel would engage, but not disengage. After half an hour of trying 16 different hydraulic line combo, we ascertained that we weren't nuts, it was broken.  Break out the Redneck ingenuity: ratchet straps.  
I got the AM shift, Tommy took over in the PM.
He alternates between calling me Dirty White Girl and Grease Monkey.

As long as he never calls me Princess, I'll let him live.

Load #2 arrived late today.  Let the fun begin again!