Back in April I posted (http://my1929tudor.blogspot.com/2011/04/what-could-be-happening-here.html) about a project I was working on. Here is the next part of the story...
It first involved a Craig's List ad offering these for sale for $50:
After many emails and telephone calls with the seller -- for the purposes of this story -- "Bruce" we agreed that he would cut them into 4 dissimilar lengths for me for $20 a cut. He gave me driving directions and we made arrangements for pick up and payment -- which also took an inordinate number of communications. I was beginning to realize that maybe Bruce doesn't regularly have interaction with "outside folk."
Red and I loaded up in his truck and began a road trip west, past Fort Worth. After we got off the main roads, turn by turn the directions took us down roads that systematically became narrower, then gravel, then just plain dirt, and rather... desolate. We laughed about Bruce's suggestion that we come the previous day, which would have put us there after dark...we never would have found our way there, much less our way out...
We were instructed that Bruce's place was at the end of the road -- the last house. Just before we got there, we passed a rebel flag, snapping proudly over a dusty dirt driveway. As the road ended, we came upon a metal gate with a padlock. Bruce said he wouldn't be home, so he had given me the combination to the lock. I hoped that any neighbors who saw us wouldn't appear, guns blazing as I opened the gate. We were clearly interlopers. Oh, and there would be dogs that Bruce "thought" would be friendly. I suggested maybe milkbones in my pocket? Oh yes, that would probably a good idea. Skippy. Milk bones* I can handle.
Red rolled to a stop and I hopped out and went to the gate, unlocked it, and figured out which way it would swing to let Red drive in. He pulled in, and as he did, the dogs went mad, barking. As instructed I closed the gate behind the truck so that the donkeys wouldn't get out. Yes, donkeys*. As it turned out, the dogs were terrified of humans. I threw the milk bones out and spoke soothingly to them but they were having none of it. They crawled under a trailer and and old car and watched.
Here's where we were, and the prize laid before us:
I can only imagine where that road continues to...
A closer view...
Really, they had potential. I observed that Bruce didn't really get it when I told him repeatedly that I did not want them to be matching lengths -- I really wanted a short, medium and long one, and then the fourth one I didn't really care what length it was. But, communication with Bruce had been challenging, and this is what I got. They will work.
As we were loading them in the truck, the donkeys decided it was time to see what was going on. I, of course, think I can be friends with all animals --
Sort of cute, although decidedly in need of a bath. Then there were two -- and together they were a little nippy*:
We got the truck loaded, and then I needed to leave payment. On the phone, Bruce told me that I would see an old pick up truck near the pipe, and I suggested that I could leave the cash in the glove compartment. His response? "Yeah, um, well, the glove box isn't really working properly." ?? Isn't working properly? All it needs to do is open and close...? Red and I totally laughed. I said, well, how about I tuck it under the floor mat? That was acceptable. Here, payment is made:
I sensed that perhaps the glove box wasn't the only part of the truck that wasn't working properly...
We reversed the gate procedure, and skedaddled down the dirt road, past the rebel flag, onto the gravel road, to the asphalt road, and finally back onto the freeway, headed east -- bounty in the back. We made a fun afternoon of it, stopping in feed stores and tack shops -- places I haven't exactly found in Dallas.
* What I should have had in my pocket was carrots.
Next up? Getting the project started.
It first involved a Craig's List ad offering these for sale for $50:
After many emails and telephone calls with the seller -- for the purposes of this story -- "Bruce" we agreed that he would cut them into 4 dissimilar lengths for me for $20 a cut. He gave me driving directions and we made arrangements for pick up and payment -- which also took an inordinate number of communications. I was beginning to realize that maybe Bruce doesn't regularly have interaction with "outside folk."
Red and I loaded up in his truck and began a road trip west, past Fort Worth. After we got off the main roads, turn by turn the directions took us down roads that systematically became narrower, then gravel, then just plain dirt, and rather... desolate. We laughed about Bruce's suggestion that we come the previous day, which would have put us there after dark...we never would have found our way there, much less our way out...
We were instructed that Bruce's place was at the end of the road -- the last house. Just before we got there, we passed a rebel flag, snapping proudly over a dusty dirt driveway. As the road ended, we came upon a metal gate with a padlock. Bruce said he wouldn't be home, so he had given me the combination to the lock. I hoped that any neighbors who saw us wouldn't appear, guns blazing as I opened the gate. We were clearly interlopers. Oh, and there would be dogs that Bruce "thought" would be friendly. I suggested maybe milkbones in my pocket? Oh yes, that would probably a good idea. Skippy. Milk bones* I can handle.
Red rolled to a stop and I hopped out and went to the gate, unlocked it, and figured out which way it would swing to let Red drive in. He pulled in, and as he did, the dogs went mad, barking. As instructed I closed the gate behind the truck so that the donkeys wouldn't get out. Yes, donkeys*. As it turned out, the dogs were terrified of humans. I threw the milk bones out and spoke soothingly to them but they were having none of it. They crawled under a trailer and and old car and watched.
Here's where we were, and the prize laid before us:
A closer view...
Really, they had potential. I observed that Bruce didn't really get it when I told him repeatedly that I did not want them to be matching lengths -- I really wanted a short, medium and long one, and then the fourth one I didn't really care what length it was. But, communication with Bruce had been challenging, and this is what I got. They will work.
As we were loading them in the truck, the donkeys decided it was time to see what was going on. I, of course, think I can be friends with all animals --
 |
| Look at how HUGE his ears are! |
Sort of cute, although decidedly in need of a bath. Then there were two -- and together they were a little nippy*:
We got the truck loaded, and then I needed to leave payment. On the phone, Bruce told me that I would see an old pick up truck near the pipe, and I suggested that I could leave the cash in the glove compartment. His response? "Yeah, um, well, the glove box isn't really working properly." ?? Isn't working properly? All it needs to do is open and close...? Red and I totally laughed. I said, well, how about I tuck it under the floor mat? That was acceptable. Here, payment is made:
We reversed the gate procedure, and skedaddled down the dirt road, past the rebel flag, onto the gravel road, to the asphalt road, and finally back onto the freeway, headed east -- bounty in the back. We made a fun afternoon of it, stopping in feed stores and tack shops -- places I haven't exactly found in Dallas.
* What I should have had in my pocket was carrots.
Next up? Getting the project started.
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