He went to work this morning around 6 a.m. after waking me up. I did the morning wrangling job of getting the Terrorist up, fed, and ready for school. The bus came for the kids and I went back to bed. I'd been up for the second time for about 1.5 minutes when the Man came back home cause it was too wet to work and before he even got in the door good he remarked,
"You haven't had time to brush your hair yet, huh?" "I'm hungry, whatcha got to cook in here?"
I just stared at him as walked past on his way to the kitchen with the TV remote in his hand changing channels as he went.
Later on, one of his buddies shows up with a tax return for me to do and our neighbor, Jeffrey, comes over too. They're in the living room, I'm in the kitchen doing something, when the phone rings. I heard the Man answer it, and then I heard laughter, so I asked what was going on.
Apparently it was someone calling for the Man to do a farm survey. The Man tells it like this:
Caller: Is Mr. "Man" in today?
the Man: No, he's not here today.
Caller: Are you one of the farmers?
the Man: No, I'm just a man who's here seeing the farmer's wife while he's not home. (this is the part where our two visitors started laughing)
Caller: Oh no, that's just not right! (laughter)
the Man: Oh Man, you're not going to tell on me are you?
Caller: (laughter, laughter) Noooo, of course not, I'm in New York!
the Man: Well ok, have a good day! (hangs up)
By this time, both the guys visiting are laughing their butts off. I told them they weren't helping a damned bit by encouraging him! I'm thinking that survey group won't be calling again for awhile. I swear, it's like being with a 5'11" toddler around company; every time he opens his mouth you hold your breath cause you don't know what might come out.
On Sunday we're going on an adventure.
The man James is working for now has farm ground strung out from Southern Illinois, down to Missouri, on down to President's Island in Memphis, and now even further south to here in East Central Arkansas. The adventure on Sunday will be to go to Memphis to take one of the Mexican tractor drivers to President's Island to drive a tractor and planter back here to the farm.
Presidents Island is just off Interstate 55 after you cross the Mississippi River in Memphis. The route we'll take is almost straight south, right through the southern half of the city. James asked me if I'd go with him to navigate as he leads the tractor through town; I told him I sure would, and I'd take my camera too cause if he gets stopped by the police and they cuff him(we have no idea if it's even legal to drive a tractor on big city streets; the boss said do it so he is), I'm damned sure going to document the moment!
We'll come off the Island, right to the left of the A up there and follow the pink line out of Memphis on down into Mississippi. (click to enlarge the maps)
The trip from Memphis to the farm is about 75 miles or so. It should be an interesting adventure. I'll be sure to take pictures.
I'll be glad when they're back in the field around here!