Tire Troubles

At 3:30 this morning, a deluge began. After listening to driving rain for about an hour, I finally got up. No need to drive myself crazy wondering why. The four inches of rain in the last 36 hours (or thereabouts) ... it happens. Okay.

The crawl space now smells, apparently, like the ocean. All those frog eggs laid, dried out, and dead. And living frogs on the walls. How will we get rid of the smell? Who knows?

We are so thankful for our minivan, with its zip and it's amazing seating and storage capacity. But it was time for the scheduled maintenance of the timing belt (which, Phil pointed out, would require an engine rebuild if it broke, so it's really good to get it replaced before it breaks). And the car has had a strange shimmy for a month or two—not horrible. The guys at the shop noticed that three of our tires were worn to ... I forget, but something really worn.

The car was in the shop all day yesterday, and finished this morning. Phil headed up to pick up the van this morning. That wasn't really a tire trouble, other than that I am mildly bitter that our van has needed four sets of tires in eight years. Impressive display of not-longevity!

Back home, Phil had "fun" things to do. He ordered the cuts we'd prefer for Clover's meat (lots of ground beef). He cut down some of the enormous weeds to make a path for a new cow paddock. He even cut down the weeds in front of the beehives (very carefully). Then he moved the cows from the lower pasture up to the finger, where they'll stay overnight.

He headed over to gather the watering tank and the posts and electric line. The tractor is quite useful for that task. He probably could haul the water tank half a mile by hand, but the tractor allows him to haul it all in one swoop.

Except that the front tire came off. That is a tire trouble. Sans jack and air compressor, he just headed home, sans tractor. What else could he do?

We talked about it. He probably needs a new tube for the tire. I suggested, in absence of an air compressor that will work a half mile from an electrical outlet, that he'll need to take off the wheel, bring it to the barn, do the fix-it magic that it requires, and bring it back to the tractor and put it back on. It's (extremely) rare that I have a suggestion that he has not thought of, but he was visibly relieved that there actually was a solution to the problem of the stranded tractor.

Of course, that does not help construction progress at all, which has more or less stalled this week.

The tractor, although no longer needed for concrete mixing, is vitally helpful in hoisting materials onto the roof, in carrying heavy materials from their stock pile to the building, in hauling equipment hither and yon.

Bummer.