A tyring day
Yesterday I decided that spring has arrived.
For a day or two, anyway.
I decided to cut the grass.
For most people, cutting the grass is a straightforward business – you get out the mower, you cut the grass, you go for a pint.
Here it is somewhat different, for the first cut of the year, anyway. First I have to walk the whole area removing fallen trees [not too many of them], fallen branches [loads of them] and rocks [where the fuck do the rocks come from?]
The next job is to check the tractor. I have to check the oil [fine], the fuel [topped that up] and the tyres. I kicked the first tyre. Fine. Kicked the second. That nearly left me with a limp. Kicked the third. No problems at all. Kicked the fourth. Fuck! Flat!
For those of you not familiar with the concept of the tubeless tyre, let me explain. An uninflated tyre will just sit happily and loosely on the wheel, with a large gap between itself and the rim. An inflated tyre is pressed hard against the rim by the pressure inside, forming an airtight seal. Have you spotted the problem yet? Yup. How do you get from one state to the other? There is no point in just applying an air hose as the air will happily gush out the huge gap. So how the fuck is it done?
I removed the wheel, bunged it in the trailer and drove down to Spanner’s. The trick then is to apply a tourniquet to the tyre, wrapping a length of rope around the wheel and tightening to the point of stupidity. With a bit of luck, this will distort the tyre and force the edge against the rim. All that is required then is a lot of patience, a lot of compressed air, a healthy dose of foul language and usually a pint or two of blood. We got the job done so I bought it home and slapped it on the tractor.
I finally got to firing up the yoke and driving it out, to discover the next problem – the garden has changed a lot since last year and I have to work out a new route around the grass to fit the new shape. It’s a lot smaller as all the trees, bushes and shrubs have encroached a good bit. I also discovered to my cost that branches I used to gently push to one side as I mowed past are now fully fledged boughs that are quite sufficient to knock me off the fucking seat.
Anyhows, the job was done and I deserved that pint.
At least the Snake’s Head Fritillaries survived the winter.
where the fuck do the rocks come from?
Yoofs chucking them at a grumpy old git?
Asteroids sheding a bit of weight on a fly by?
Another dimension.. you know the one where the EUnatics live?
It is Ireland so anything is possible.
Yoofs know better, and give this place a wide berth.
Asteroids? No diamonds or any heavy metals so that's out.
Another dimension is indeed a possibility. I must look into that.
Though I would be more inclined to blame the grandchilder. Little sods love heaving things around the place.
Butterflies sure are a positive sign that winter is over. Er, isn’t that what fritillaries are? But you say Snake’s Head Fritillaries – are they some sort of flower St. Patrick forgot to banish from holy old Ireland?
No butterflies, so I suppose Spring is a way off yet.
I'm kinda proud of my Snake's Heads. They have been abused, mowed and generally trampled on over the years but each year they rise again [reminds me a bit of myself]. They are somewhat swamped by weeds but they still manage to put on a small but impressive show. I don't know if they bite or not.
Lovely crimson colour for the time of the year. If you hear some hissing, beware – unless it's from the troublesome tyre.
You say cut the grass, we say mow the lawn. Too wet to do either here, with flood water yet to recede and the river still rising! That's a beautiful flower, Grandad!
"Mowing the lawn" is what posh people do. I'm a realist and to describe my patch as a lawn would be an insult to grass everywhere.
I don't know how it got there, but that single plant has been there for as long as I remember. It's a survivor!
We don't actually mow our lawn either. Sometimes it's more like "get out the hay rake and baler"….or turn the livestock out on it. As for the plant being a survivor, those are often the best ones!
I did contemplate getting a goat or a donkey. Not sure what the dog would make of that. Heh!
Proper tire inflation involves spraying a generous quantity of ether into the tire and igniting it. The sudden expansion, also known as an explosion, will seat the tire on the rim. It is also a fairly quick way to remove excess, or rather all, hair from your arm and possibly eyebrows, beard, and head.
Already checked the tires on my old beast of a tractor. Now I'm just waiting for the ground to dry out enough so I can put it onto the trailer and haul it to the shop for an oil change and blade sharpening. The thing weighs 700 pounds you know, and I've gotten to that point in life where it's just too hard to hold the thing up with one hand while I take off the blades with the other.