Yesterday I had planned on replacing a fuel line on my big plow truck and an actuation cable on my small plow truck, but a friend stopped by with his kids riding their 4-wheelers
He talked me into putting off my maintenance chores and go riding with them. To be honest it wasn’t that hard for him to do.
We rode for several hours and were nearing a small community (less than 100 people, our whole county has a population of 3000) when a wheel flew off one of the kids ATVs.
Using our rural “do it yourself” traits which typify people here we removed the other wheel and set the wheel-less end of the incapacitated ATV on the cargo rack of one of the other ATVs and started heading back.
On the way back I ran across a patch of wild Shaggy Mane mushrooms and picked a bunch. After arriving home I realized I didn’t have any beef streak and decided to go to town to purchase some and give away the extra mushrooms I wouldn’t be using.
At my first stop I was informed that my friends there don’t like any type of mushrooms, and people keep giving them to them. I left with my original bag of Shaggy Manes and three more bags of Morels which they didn’t want. Not wanting to risk quadrupling my mushrooms again I picked a friend who I knew liked wild mushrooms and sneaked the bag of Manes onto his porch and went home. I wrapped up the day by cooking a white wine, butter, baby (homegrown) shallot and wild mushroom sauce for my steak.
Now that The Gulch Home is nearing completion I figured I’d pick up some part-time work to help keep me busy this winter. I had heard the local mill was looking to start running on weekends so I stopped by. It’s kind of funny how being in that chair hasn’t changed. I totally forgot I didn’t really need the work, that I had my own business at one time, and that I wasn’t a teenage kid anymore. Sweaty palm and the whole works. Like an old friend of mine use to say: “It’s all chemical.”