Kicking Back with Nanny

I know none of you parents have ever seen this scene before. Just woke up- still cuddling and watching cartoons.

Crappie- Kinda

Water temps are still too cold for crappie- but we are getting a few of the early birds. Joey, Allison and Case were here last week and took home 18- I cleaned four after work today, including this almost 16" female.

Tawakoni Sunrise

Got on the water early Saturday and was treated to this sight...

Lessons I learned last week...

I had a “Hoy Day” last week.

I drove to College Station, towing a trailer, with a dog by my side.

Just like Dad would have done.

Those of you who know me, know I am mechanically challenged. My favorite line around my guys in maintenance is “tools make me bleed”.

Dad probably never ended one of his hundreds or projects, without at least loss of one drop of blood. To him, it probably meant sacrifice, to me- just pain or failure

So, I was on a mission. I took Mom to her second cataract procedure, but really, I was there to accomplish a project, fraught with danger, and possibly loss of life or limb.

I was bringing back to West Tawakoni, a 34 ton log splitter. The guys I work with around here have access to all the fire wood they want, if they are willing to work.  To them, a gas powered, hydraulic log splitter, was a dream come true.

To me, instant severance of limbs, or death.

The first time we attempted to move to move the log splitter , ended in complete disaster. I ended up basically watching my brother remove two, very flat tires, from the trailer the splitter was attached to and taking them back to the lake to be repaired. That was after many heroic efforts to fix the flats ourselves, but only ended up in the demise of a come-a-long and other failed attempts.

Now, it was a challenge. I was going to load a log splitter, mounted on a trailer, onto a trailer, attached to a Suburban, and I planned to do it by myself.

Glenn offered to help. I wanted to at least give it a try.

After mounting (or some resemblance thereof) the two tires I had taken to be fixed, I quickly learned one fact. There was no way in hell I would be able to pick up the trailer that has the log splitter attached, and walk it onto the trailer attached to the Suburban.

This is the point “Dad” took over.

Frustrated, but also knowing there were tractors and all kind of tools at my disposal, I (me and my Dad) created a plan.

First, I would remove the flat bed trailer from the Suburban and tilt it leaning back. After that, I would “scotch” all four trailer tires with a brick or a piece of firewood, just like I had seen Dad do it several times before. Then, I would back the Suburban next to the trailer, attach a chain from the Suburban frame to the hitch on the log splitter, then just haul it onto the trailer.

It worked, just like it was supposed to. Splitter came right onto the trailer, weight of the splitter raised the trailer to a height that could be dealt with, I reattached the trailer to the Suburban, and two days later, guys were having a ball using a splitter to make firewood gathering a little less work.

My brother, after I texted him I had loaded the splitter onto the trailer, congratulated me. I wouldn’t blame him for a second for thinking I paid somebody $100 to pull it off.

I have spent much of the time since November of 2006, missing my dad. Last Wednesday, at his farm house in College Station, I felt his presence again.

Dad taught me what I need to know.

 At my best, I listen

At my worst, I do not.

There are a lot of things happening in my life right now.

Personal and professional.

Right now, I am going to focus on the lessons I learned a long time ago.

Cloy, Lake Tawakoni, March 2010