The Tire Saga Continues

I hoed the garden until almost sundown last night. By the time I quit, I was drenched in sweat and felt little crawly things all over me, probably just my imagination. I was in desperate need of a shower. If you have not taken a garden hose shower, referred to as hosin', you have not lived. Now, when I lived in a city, I would routinely hose. Even built myself a private little hosin' area in my backyard that afforded me some privacy. In the country it is easier, no voyeur neighbors living within a few feet of you. The real difference though in city hosin' and country hosin' is the temperature of the water. In the city, after the initial shock of cold water, the temperature moderates a bit since most of the water is stored in above ground tanks. During the summer, water out of a city tap could be in the 70 to 80 degree range. In the country, the water comes right out of the ground at about 50 to 60 degrees. The water is heart attack cold. And, I will not even comment on the shrinkage factor.

This morning, The Old Goat and I drove up to the tractor place to get the bush-hog tire fixed. Tinker knocked it off mowing Miss Sherry's field. Without the guide tire, the apparatus is inopertive. Got the tire fixed for a grand total of $6 which I thought was a good bargain.

Afterwards, and seeing how it was barely after 7 am, we decided to drive down to the Courthouse about the tires that have yet to be picked up by the County. Rather than bolt in with a complaint about non-existent services, I took a different tact.

Me: M'am, somebody is playing a cruel trick on the County and me.

Nice lady at the County: What ever do you mean?

Me: I asked the County to pick up a bunch a tires some scoundrel dumped on my property over a month ago. At the time, the County said it would pick up the tires in the next couple of days. Now, I know the County must have picked them up. But, these sorry buzzards who dumped them went to the landfill, loaded up those same tires, and dumped them again in the same place as last time. Surely, something can be done to stop these rascals.

Nice lady at the County: That is terrible. Let me just make sure that a work order was filled out on those tires. (She shuffles through some papers and pulls out a pink slip.) Dr. Simpson, I hate to tell you this but our crew did not pick up tnose tires and I am so sorry that it has taken so long to get to them. I'll make sure we get out there the first of the week.

Me: You are so kind. Thank you. I'll be back next week to thank you for your efforts. Have a nice 4th of July.