I'm my own Hero

 Ahhh, the skid steer saga once more. I am mechanically dis-inclined. If things don't work, I toss up my hands and walk away. An engine is a mystery to me that I'm not even curious enough to investigate.

Since we had the episode last week of the skid steer not starting again, hubby said that he wanted me to go out and put the battery charger on it and to hook up the engine heater thingy.

I did find the battery and I did hook it up though it was a scary place inside the battery compartment. It is hard to see in there and basically I'm rather afraid of batteries.
My father always told us they'd blow up. Guess that stuck with me.

I recall the tech guy saying that I should charge it on the slower setting rather than the fast one.  I should put it on a maintenance trickle charger or just make sure to use it every so many days. All this I explained to hubby who said I was full of bunk.

So I went out and did it the way the tech told me to. It took two days [I didn't leave it charging overnight ~ it is parked near our huge bales of hay]. 

I got it started! I let it run long enough to warm everything up and then shut it off. I plan on using it this week to fill the bucket with manure from the two nights Little Richard spent in his stall and to fill it with the goat's old bedding. Once the driveway is no long mud-mush, I'll dump it in the huge compost pile.

I've run this thing before but it has been a while. I'd rather hubby feel good enough to use it. I really think it is too much machine for the piddly jobs I have around here. 

However, getting it running was a huge relief and I crossed off one big worry for the moment.

To celebrate, I put on my YakTraks and decided to see what the rain, snow and freeze did to the creek area.

The water did flow from the neighbor's pasture and run into the creek. In some places small dams were created by dead leaves.

I decided to sit and listen to the forest. What could I hear? I heard a chickadee, a bluejay, a hawk, and something walking on the land above the creek. It wasn't a human, perhaps it was a squirrel, coyote, or deer.

I just waited.

Now I should have had a long lens, but I didn't. But there was a deer! 
[Click on the picture to enlarge it]

Can you see the doe? She is almost so well camouflaged that I put an arrow on the photo pointing to her face.

It was a doe and a yearling! They must have smelled me or seen me move and off they went.

So happy little dance for me. I got the scary machine started and I saw some wildlife.

I think I need to make myself a superhero cape.
 

Just be quiet

Listen to silence

it has much

to say...

~Rumi

I'm in a philosophical mood today. Yesterday was quite the flop. Hubby needed to get out and run his skid steer and I got out his muck boots and walked out with him. I helped him climb into the skid steer and held his 02 backpack.

He hit the button and it wouldn't start. The maintenance guy had told me to start and use it every two to three weeks. I know I should have gone out and done it myself last week, but I met with fierce resistance from the other half.  He has forgotten that I used the skid steer for a year while he was recovering from his stroke and pulmonary emboli. 

I helped him get out of the skid steer and we headed back towards the house. He barely made it even with his little oxygen pack. I opened the door and with muddy boots and all, he collapsed on the couch while I hooked up the concentrator. I stuck the oximeter on his finger and watched as his 02 came up from 77 and his heart rate evened out.

He then instructed me to put the skid steer on a charger and get it fired up.  I am not comfortable about doing things like that and he is not up to it.

I then wondered why on earth are we even keeping that piece of machinery? Why not sell it and or trade it in for a UTV? 

I know how the discussion would go anyway. He is not ready to let it go. And who am I to discourage it? He feels he can still do stuff. 

I did suggest that he do more walking in the house than sitting and watching hours of TV so that he could get the ability to walk out to the shed to use his riding mower.

That was met with a look of distain and crossed arms.

So I decided to be quiet and not say anymore. If I can get that sucker running again, I'll just start it up and deal with it.

Eventually, I'll get things sorted. But for peace in the house, I decided to remain quiet.

His brain says he can, his body says no and he is fighting that idea. After all, wouldn't we all?

I put on my muddin' boots and headed out to take a short walk. 

The chickadees were singing. The crow called out, and a red tail hawk swooped over the meadow.

Listen to silence...
well there really wasn't any sounds of silence...

but I listened to the forest and it helped...

Welcome to March

The Skid Steer is...

BACK!

Well, it was here all the time but it is now back together and operable.



Ohhh what a good feeling. Justin helped, well...Justin did the work and I was the tool go-fer. Poor Justin, he asked for a particular type of tool and I brought back the 'thingies' I thought he wanted. I actually got it right most of the time and what a pleasant surprise. He didn't get frustrated.

I guess that is the difference between husband and wife teams.... and the old lady neighbor and the kind young neighbor man. 
Lauren and I laughed about that phenomenon and decided that if we the wives...broke something, we should ask the other spouse to help fix it.

Justin was having a hard time getting the metal tracks back on, we kept falling short by less than an inch. Justin suggested letting some air out of the tires.
How brilliant. We had it put back together in no time and parked safely in the shed. All of the tires had been low and was probably the cause of the issue in the first place.
Live and learn.

Of course Rich still insists that I was the culprit and remains quite touchy about the subject. Even when Justin explained that the other tires only had 30 psi of air in them when they should have 60, he would not relent.

Very low tire pressure will pop the bead off with side pressure from the metal tracks. However that pure and simple explanation wouldn't work and Rich just got more agitated.

I know this is frustration on Rich's part of not having the desire or the ability right now to get out and climb in 'his' favorite piece of equipment.

He even got angry and started yelling at me after supper when I asked if I should add diesel fuel additive. He slammed his hands on the table making his supper dishes rattle and grabbed his cane and oxygen, exiting the kitchen and sat down in front of the screen to watch his current binging program.
Some days it is like living with a bi polar person gone off the rails.

An hour later, he seemed to have forgotten all about it.