April 2010, Part I.

April came.
There was more Anna haulin'.
The late-planted irrigated wheat made some very slight progress.
1 tiller. :/

The parts for my new coulter-rig came. Here is some discussion as to why the new coulter-rig.

Ye olde cultivator, last used here.

Then there was some assemblin'.



Pretty good progress at the end of day one.
More assemblin'.

And here is something quite frustrating. The box from the manufacturer was missing two (2) small, crucial parts. And I was told that it would take at least a week to get the parts which I had already paid for. "Dealing with [Manufacturer's name (Starts with a Y, ends with an R)], it's like a slow boat to China, man," said Dave. Blurg. I hope I never break a crucial part during the fall turnaround between corn and wheat.

Swheatie and the new truck spent April getting to know each other.


Betsy had her birthday in April, just like always. We ate at our (then) favorite restaurant.

We then beheld a sight too incredible and fantastic for words. Some things are just not meant to be documented, unfortunately.

Then we went to the zoo, where Anna did her best "agitated Bison" impression.
And rode a tortoise.

Linda was there too.

Since I had some time to kill, I got the governor "taken off of" the new truck.

And filled tracks.




Apparently the wind was a little too strong when I sprayed the volunteer right next to it. Humpf.

And then I broke down and had dad bring another of the missing parts to town to have copied at Sunflower. He had them ready that afternoon.

So it was off to fertilize.
So it seemed to work pretty good. I was worried about having enough weight to stay in the ground, since all of the fancy ready-made coulter rigs (Which cost, oh, ten times as much as I spent on my homemade unit) come with hydraulic down pressure. I only had problems on the one spot on the field where we load the trucks at harvest.
The coulters which came also were not quite what I was expecting. I was hoping for something with a little less disturbance. Oh well. What's the worst that could happen?

The sunset was pretty that night.

The next day Larry came out to mark the spot to drill a (new) test hole for the new well at home. I suppose I will regret not speaking up and moving the site 30 feet to the south for the next 50 years. (sigh) (note to self: learn to talk to strangers.)

Not thinking well in the company of strangers also lead to another incredibly stupid decision that week: (double sigh)