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Thursday, October 24, 2013

Life's Hump Day

We have a nickname for Wednesdays here in America.  Wednesday is called "Hump Day," for after Wednesday, one is "over the hump," and the week winds down toward the weekend.
Jesse, with his in-laws Mike and Candace Wheeler, and their daughter Cally, our delightful daughter-in-law.
October 20th was our son Jesse's 35th birthday.  Jesse spoke with his mother that day by phone, and told her that he'd spent his birthday spreading manure to fertilize the hay fields on the Vermont horse farm that he and his wife Cally now operate.

When I called to wish Jess a happy birthday, I told him that the 35th was the only birthday that ever troubled me.

"Why was that?" he asked. 

"Because The Bible only promises us three-score and ten years, so I figured life would go downhill fast after I reached 35."

Of course, I was wrong.  Jesse was born when I was 35, and then along came Piper and Alex.  As this blog surely attests, most of the fun in my life has occurred since I turned thirty-five.  So I left Jesse with that positive thought, then sent him an e-mail.  The following exchange ensued:

To Jesse McDougall
Cc: Shirl McDougall

Oct 20 at 4:16 PM

Dear Jesse,

Spreading manure seems a super way to celebrate one's only Hump Day! 
I love you and Cally and little Angus [the nickname of our unborn grandchild, due about January 1], too.  Take care of our Vermont branch!



Oct 22 at 10:17 AM
Hi Pops,

Thanks. It was a peaceful way to spend the day. Yesterday wasn't so peaceful, when the manure spreader broke on the first run. I spent the next 6 hours fixing a fully-loaded manure spreader. Stinky work. But oh God is it satisfying!

To Jesse S. McDougall

Oct 22 at 10:47 AM
Satisfying, if it gets fixed!
I understand. 
(Like setting the points on a 1978 Suzuki that is running of 2 cylinders, and getting it running on all 4.)
[We'd done that for Jesse's old GS550 several years ago, and that, too, was done at the farm.]



Oct 22 at 10:51 AM

I did get it fixed and running and cleaned out. I was racing the sunset, but after much torque, wrestling, and more heavy lifting than I should probably be doing, I got it. Jim, of course, had all the replacement parts on-hand.

Slept like a baby.

Cally and Shirl on the Vermont farm.

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