Some Days Are Diamonds

Some days are diamonds, and then there are the other kind...when things go south so fast all you can do is hang on and go for the ride.  After watering the plants on the deck, weeding by the front walkway, and milking, I needed to get the tires off the little tractor.  Joel and a helper had come up while I was in the barn to borrow a pair of come-alongs to fix his fence.  I could see Bessie Anne, laying in the sun, watching as the two men drove up, took the equipment, and went away, and she barely lifted her head.  Had they been thieves, Bess probably would have pointed out items of interest for them.  Some guard dog.  When I went out to address the tire situation, I finally figured out how to get the tires off (who knew they had spinning hub caps?), but couldn't figure out how to work the hydraulic jack.  I'd seen it done, but never actually used it before.  Fortunately, Joel brought back the come-alongs just then so I didn't have to call for help.  The kid at Mt. Aukum put inner tubes in the tires, I put them back on, and was so pleased with myself that I jumped on the tractor and roared off down the long driveway, forgetting to check the gas.  It's a long walk back up the drive to the barn.  "Serves you right, Dum-dum."  After filling the tank and making a couple of passes in the west field, I noticed the engine wasn't running quite right.  Hmmm.  Probably the air filter, so I stopped and cleaned that.  A couple of more passes...still hiccuping.  Must be the fuel filter.  I had a spare in the barn.  I can do this.  The vice grips wouldn't hold on the tubing.  Hmmm.  Well, if I take this end off, I can squeeze that end of the tube and put the other end on first, forgetting that I'd need both hands to accomplish this and one would be crimping the tube, and also that I'd just put two gallons of gas in the tank.  Without going into the full details, suffice it to say that I got a thumb over the end that was squirting gasoline like a fountain, could not get the other end off at all, and was totally stuck there.  Even trying to relax my cramping fingers resulted in another fount of gas, and I didn't think I could run into the barn fast enough to find another tool.  Perched on the running board, I contemplated my folly and tried to think of solutions.  Hmmm.  I finally pulled out my cell phone, one-handed, and called Dennis (Joel had already done his bit), briefly explained my predicament, listened to him laughing, and then sat and waited for my rescuer.  The only thing worse than doing something that ridiculous is having it witnessed.  Dennis chuckled the entire time and said it made his day.  I can't say it did the same for mine.  The good part of this story is that the new fuel filter solved the problem and I got almost all of the yards mowed.  I think I will be forgiven for not finishing the back yard.  That will be a story for another day.