I did not go to 7 years of college for this

This tractor is pushing its luck with me. Barry wanted me to bushhog the pasture at the house (and God knows, it needed it), so after work yesterday, I did something I never thought I would do. I drove the tractor from the farm to the house, which is about 2.5 miles. This would not be noteworthy but for the fact that about 1/3 of a mile is on a state highway.

Man, did I feel like a hillbilly driving down the shoulder of Rt 142. It only took about 3 or 4 minutes, but I was so embarrassed. I laughed like an idiot every time I looked at my shadow on the road. Plus that thing goes kind of fast and the slightest jiggle and it would veer on me--pretty sensitive steering! I was afraid I would dart out in front of a semi and be done for--wouldn't that be a humiliating way to go for someone who thought she would be some kind of famous litigator by now?

Anyway, I got home, got in the back gate to the pasture, practically foaming at the mouth to get these damn weeds mowed down, and as soon as I engaged the PTO for the mower, I started having power issues. It would putz along well enough to get part of one weedy patch mowed, then die on me. This is not so easy to fix as just turning a key, as we still do not know where our electrical short is even though so much of it has been replaced--I have to get down, get pliers, and start it by connecting the starter thingy and the cylanoid--a huge pain in the ass, suffice it to say. So I get back up there and do this a couple more times, until I flat lose my patience. I had very little mowing done, and then it would not start at all, I think I flooded it.

By then, I had wasted enough time that there was not enough daylight to ride at the farm, or go get my saddle and ride Sly at home. So I mowed part of the yard, fed the varmints and quit for the night.

This gave me more time inside with the animals. Bocephus the pig came in to eat Cheerios and play, and for some reason Thor barked incessantly all night and would not shut up. That is strange for him, and at some point Slater must have had all he needed of it, as he jumped him good in the doorway and put two puncture holes in his neck. I kind of understood it because I was thinking of doing the same thing--but I would not have made him bleed! It even scared Simba who was afraid to go outside with Slater after that.

I cleaned up poor crying Thor and took him to bed, where he flinched every time I touched him. Those hateful dogs that I banned from my house barked off and on all nite--it was miserable.

Since the sleeping portion of the day sucked so bad, I got up early and tried to start the tractor again. It fired right up, so I lifted the mower and crawled under it to cut out some baling twine that I swear gets there in the nite. I kept picturing the PTO coming to life and cutting me into little pieces. I got her all fixed up and got to mowing--except she was squealing like crazy and then started smoking. I assumed this meant it would blow up in a minute, so I got off and far away and called Barry who is in Kentucky or somewhere. He finally suggested that perhaps the emergency brake was on. Oops, he was right. I felt like an idiot, prayed the neighbors had not been watching and got back to it.

Unfortunately, the tractor kept up this loss of power problem. It would die immediately in regular gear. If I put it in slow gear, it would do better but ultimately die anyway.

Every time I got off to restart it, Sly would come help. He would stand at my shoulder while I stuck the pliers on the cylanoid (which by the way is virtually impossible for me to do without a step stool)- then wig out when he saw sparks or heard it flare up. He would run off bucking and farting until he got to a safe distance and wait for it to die again, then come back and help me again. He is like a person. Sometimes, an annoying person.

I finally gave up and came to work. At least I am less likely to burn something down or blow it up here.

I think