Saturday, December 27, 2014

It is cold out side today. A fine day for an open fire, a hot toddy, a blanket and book, with a friendly dog curled at one’s feet.

And thus it was until about an hour ago, long after the first coffee, a steak and egg breakfast and the promise by the ESPN folks of College Bowls to come.

Came a pounding on my door.

The Renter.

“Ten”, he says, “broke off a fence post and I want to borrow the tractor mounted hole digger. I have all the help I need, don’t need anymore. I’ve got my brothers, their kids and my son. We only have one hole to dig and one pole to drill.”

“That can be done,” I allowed. “This key is for the barn door. This key is for my tractor if you need it. The other is for the tool shed if you need a come along for leverage.”

“We can do that.” Renter figured. “I’ll send the boys for my tractor and we’ll mount the digger on it. That alright?”


And I went back to the heat.

Some few minutes later, a knocking at the door.

“Ten. We’ll need to use your tractor. We can’t get the digger on my tractor, we need to use yours.”

“K. You have the key.”


And I went back to my fire and book. The dog stayed out and barked at the strangers.

Some few minutes later, a knocking at the door.


“Ah, Ten, Renter doesn’t know how to start your tractor. Can you help him?”


Some time later the tractor was successfully started. And I went back to my fire and book. The dog stayed out and barded at the strangers.

Some time later, a knocking at the door.

“Ten,” demanded Renters brother, “where do you want us to dismount the mower?, which was a reasonable question as I’d left it mounted to do some welding for an idea I’d had and hadn’t dismounted it as I was using the tractor as a lift and holder, even yet.

Says I; “You’ll need to turn off the tractor so I can use that brass key for the work shop that’s on that ring.”

And fifteen minutes later I was back near the fire and my book and dog was again curled at my feet.

It’s been thirty minutes now and they are just leaving with the digger mounted. I don’t suppose that the nine bodies of workers Renter claimed to have hadn’t much experience with implement change outs, regardless of having been farm born and used to raising cattle and cutting hay, not in farming.

But they’re gone now. The fire’s burnt low and I’ll probably let it go, sun’s come out. And the football game came on.

Glad, I am, that Renter had all the help he needed.


From the reaches,

Ten Whiskey

About tenwhiskey

User tenwhiskey is also the author of this blog. He currently lives in small town Kansas in a semi-retired condition. His kids are married and gone (thank you). An empty nester. Divorced. Very happy with life as it is. Ten Mile maintains a personal blog here, writing of events as they appear to him; commentary, and opinions abound. He deviates into fiction as the mood strikes and creates flash fiction stories and short stories. He will not warn the reader when he drifts from fact to fiction. He feels adults are, generally, smart enough to figure out which is which. He does, however, attempt to make his fiction sound as true to life as possible. You have been warned. He, as time permits, writes and occasionally sells writing. More often than not he gives it away to various non-paying publishers of Ether Magazines, forums or for entertainment on a wall for in need of a hand friends. He likes candy, pies and a certain amount of strife. In the matter of strife - in his yourth on the farm, he became embroiled in a slinging fight. The fight involved lath as a launcher, fresh cow patties as ammo and it was a six way free for all. A little mud only adds (Umm?) a certain taste to life.
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