Four Signs and a Fire

I was up just after 7, texting with Mom K who was fretting about the blog going private. Toss in their new email address quandaries, and let’s just say technology comes with lots of challenges. Coffee in hand, I finished Friday’s blog post while soaking up the morning sunshine.

Sheldon surfaced later, grabbed his cup, and headed out to hook up the dump trailer for the ATVs—only to find the truck tire that had been pressure warning us yesterday was now completely flat. Church plans, canceled. I helped with the soap bubble test, and sure enough, we spotted the leak. 

off to the zoo

His patch kit wouldn’t hold though, thanks to a snapped drill bit lodged in the hole. Britt eventually brought out a new kit, but not until after 12:30 (she thought there was no rush since the tire was flat). Sheldon spent the wait dozing in Big Brown.

farrier B getting Jimmy's feet in order

After sandwiches, he tried again—this time successfully patching the tire. Spirits lifted, he filled up with fuel, hooked up the trailer, and started loading the ATVs. Easier said than done. The Ranger went high-centered going off the ramps, stuck like a teeter-totter gone wrong. My attempt to add weight didn’t budge it, but Britt’s idea to tilt the box did the trick. Finally, both machines were secured back on the trailer.

We rolled out around 2, snacks and speaker in tow (though I had to run back in for the bear spray). Only eight minutes down the road, Sheldon glanced back—no crack in the Ranger window. Because the whole thing had sucked out and smashed into the quad. Strike three.

He tried to shake it off, claiming his three bad-luck moments were up… but about eight minutes later we heard a pop and the hiss of escaping air. The patched tire had given up again. Thankfully, we were near a wide approach, though no one was home when Sheldon knocked at the nearest house. Another patch attempt failed, the air compressor refused to cooperate, and sweat was pouring in the 29° heat. Britt suggested the spare, and after an hour (and about three gallons of perspiration), Sheldon had it changed. Well done, S. Four strikes and counting.

Changing a tire is not my forte, thank goodness there is a manual to tell you where all the keys and tools are stored.

At 3:30, we admitted defeat and turned for home. The dogs were thrilled at our return. Britt headed to town, I watered the garden, and Sheldon unhooked the trailer before collapsing into another nap in the A/C.

hot or cold

By 6:30, Britt was back with smokies for supper (thank you, B). Afterward, she rode Roo while I ate peas in the garden. Amanda showed up with the three littles, who munched peas and chased Jenkins while Stella remained her usual elusive self. Britt and Aislyn fed the horses, then Amanda broke out the s’mores kit, which the others enjoyed fireside.

The evening wound down before 11 with town folk heading home, Sheldon scrolling his phone, and me finishing my book. A day full of mishaps, but at least it ended in firelight and s’mores.