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Post by papaof2 on Mar 19, 2021 13:46:35 GMT -6
Or if you had a ScottEVest with pockets for phone, glasses, tablet, water bottle, concealed carry weapon, keys, ferro rod, Kershaw folding knife, tissues - just your usual every day carry items...
There are some .380 semi-auto pistols that fit nicely in a number of pockets. I understand JHP works well with those but I've never shot that.
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Post by bluefox2 on Mar 20, 2021 8:02:04 GMT -6
Or if you had a ScottEVest with pockets for phone, glasses, tablet, water bottle, concealed carry weapon, keys, ferro rod, Kershaw folding knife, tissues - just your usual every day carry items... There are some .380 semi-auto pistols that fit nicely in a number of pockets. I understand JHP works well with those but I've never shot that. My LCP seems to like them just fine.
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Post by bretf on Mar 20, 2021 20:22:42 GMT -6
You know, all your ideas and suggestions sound great. But I had a humbling experience a few days ago. It pointed out to me it’s time to switch from the theoretical weapon in my nightstand to my shotgun.
Anywho, I was working on a project and needed my impact driver. I went into my shop to get it. I’ve got a woodstove set up in it, and some critter was making an awful ruckus as it was trapped in the stove pipe.
I once rescued a kestrel out of my stovepipe/chimney, so on the off chance the trapped critter was something I liked, I pulled the joints in the stovepipe apart.
What flew out wasn’t a kestrel, or anything else I wanted around. It was a starling.
Even though I despise the birds, I had the shop door open, and tried to chase the wretched creature out. It didn’t leave, just flew from one side of the shop to the other. Over and over again.
After multiple attempts to shoo it to the door, I grabbed a canoe paddle as an extra persuader. I approached the bird, arms out, trying again to get it to take the exit. And like every other time, it tried to fly over my head to the other side of the shop. I swung the paddle. Not a Barry Bonds swing, more like an Ichiro Suzuki swat. It contacted the bird and one of the fluorescent lights at the same time. Thankfully, the fluorescent tube remained intact. Not so thankfully, the bird did too. Not only that, but the vile creature learned from our brief interaction and wouldn’t let me close enough to whack it again.
So, I went to the house for my pistol. No, not the theoretical pistol, but the pump-up air pistol. I started to open the can of pellets to get one out and my better sense clicked in. Okay, I took the whole can.
The bird was still sitting on the shelf when I returned, giving me a look as if it was the star of an Alfred Hitchcock movie. I returned the look, put four pumps and a pellet in the pistol.
I raised the weapon, ready to remove that scourge and get back to my project. But, as I held the pistol up, I wondered if I remembered correctly. Was that two cups of coffee I had or two pots. Holy bat droppings, Robin, I couldn’t sight in on that bird for anything. My hands were shakier than on my first date (and that’s saying a lot). I tried to time my waves and squeezed the trigger on one of the passes over that black devil. And yeah, I missed. The pellet ricocheted and missed me too, so hey, all was good, er, acceptable. I still had a nearly full can of pellets.
On my next shot, I was able to rest the pistol across my vice. But even with the rest, I still couldn’t hold that blooming gun still. Dang, how much coffee did I drink?
After the third shot, I think the bird tired of tormenting me and flew out the door. Either that, or, I got lucky and hit it. I’d have to get a ladder to check and I had more important things to do at the time.
So, it might be time to store the shotgun under edge of the bed.
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Post by papaof2 on Mar 20, 2021 20:39:42 GMT -6
And the second and third shotguns over the doors and #4 in the shop?
Last time I chased a squirrel off the bird feeder with the pellet pistol, it took me four or five shots for a permanent hit - but he was a bit farther away, as I was shooting from the back porch out to where the bird feeder hangs. Now I have a pellet rifle with a 4x(?) scope so I should do better next time...
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Post by texican on Mar 20, 2021 23:03:03 GMT -6
But, as I held the pistol up, I wondered if I remembered correctly. Was that two cups of coffee I had or two pots. Holy bat droppings, Robin, I couldn’t sight in on that bird for anything. My hands were shakier than on my first date (and that’s saying a lot)
After the third shot, I think the bird tired of tormenting me and flew out the door. Either that, or, I got lucky and hit it. bret, Sound like you, coffee and weapons are not a good mix. But you must have scared the starling sufficiently that the bird flew the shop. Now a shotgun would have worked, but the damage to the walls and ceiling would have been monumental. Texican....
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Post by iamnobody on Mar 22, 2021 13:48:49 GMT -6
MOAR!!! please
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Post by sniper69 on Mar 22, 2021 15:28:58 GMT -6
MOAR!!! please Bret I think what iamnobody is saying is "Sir this is an excellent story. May we please have some Moar? It would satisfy our cravings and keep our fingers from withering away on the cliff." <or at least that is what I'm saying, lol>
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Post by texican on Mar 22, 2021 17:32:29 GMT -6
Guys,
Cut bret some slack since he is still recovering from the Starling attacks, the coffee shakes with the air pistol and not using his shotgun to end the bird.
Wonder if bret as any security cameras set up in his shop for the video would definitely be worth watching like reading bret's stories.
Speaking about bret's stories...
Texican....
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Post by bretf on Mar 22, 2021 17:45:08 GMT -6
Thanks, Iamnobody, Sniper, Tex. Sorry but I’ve been a bit distracted.
We’re trying to narrow in on a college for my son, including a trip to Tucson.
The weather is flirting with being spring and I’ve got new ideas for the garden I want to try.
And I have another major distraction I wasn’t anticipating but have been forced to deal with. I wrote this recently and let it sit while I tried to calm down. I open it and reread, trying to edit and get extremely irritated and disappointed all over again.
63,524. Six years and ten months. Rest in piece(s)
It is with a heavy heart that I write this letter. It is because I have lost all faith in a long-standing American company; the Ford Motor Company.
The first vehicle I ever drove, circa 1966 was produced by Ford, a 9N tractor. It was followed by countless hours on an 8N Ford. I proudly drove my mom’s Galaxy 500. Later, my dad’s F250.
I owned a few cars over the years, including two Ford pickups. Due to economics, (purchase price and gas-mileage) I purchased a Subaru Justy. It wasn’t much to look at, but I drove that little car for twenty-seven years. When it came time to replace it, I wanted to go American so I went to the Ford dealer.
In May, 2014, I purchased a new Focus, 5-speed standard. VIN 1FADP3K23DL334756. Based on my history with the Subaru, I fully intended on it to be the final car I purchased. At the sale, the dealer, Lithia Ford of Boise, offered a life-time oil change package. It seemed like a no-brainer to me. I took the bait, excuse me, the offer, seeing as how I stick with a car after I buy it. (Note, driving the Justy for twenty-seven years).
I have never been an aggressive driver, otherwise, the little three-cylinder Subaru and I wouldn’t have survived so long. Maintenance and service was performed on time, when notified or alerted by sensors on the car. Always at Lithia Ford of Boise. On cold mornings, I started the car and allowed it to warm up for several minutes before driving it.
So perhaps you’ll understand my frustration, aggravation, and disappointment. On March 8, 2021, I got into my Ford Focus to leave for work. I started it, and it sputtered and died. Trying to start it again failed. I had to leave it in the garage and get to work by alternate means.
After having the car towed to the Lithia Ford service department, I received the diagnosis after two days. I was told the timing belt was broken and it caused extensive damage. The cost to repair it would be $7700 plus change.
It took a while to sink in. As I’ve already mentioned this car only has 63,524 miles on it. Easy miles at that.
According to Kelly blue book, my car isn’t even worth as much as this repair would cost.
I’m not sure how to take this. Is it planned obsolescence, meant to discourage drivers like myself who don’t upgrade every few years?
And the lifetime oil change and all maintenance work, as mentioned above, it was all done at Lithia Ford of Boise. I’m sure you can access my maintenance record.
Lithia Ford never indicated if this was covered by warranty. I would hope it was looked into but I wasn’t told. Regardless, I can’t get over the numbers: 63,524. Six years and ten months.
So, Ford Motor Company, and Lithia Ford of Boise, what is you recommended recourse for this failure of your product? I would like to think that Ford Motor Company and Lithia Ford of Boise likes to keep their customers.
Or, am I just in the wind? Another dissatisfied customer of an inferior product. And by the way, I loved that damn car!
Bret Friend
I welcome your input on this. I haven’t put it in an envelope yet, but I’m planning to soon.
Meanwhile, Kevin talked to me yesterday while I was working in the garden. Not enough for a new chapter, but I got a few lines written down for the first time in days.
Thank you, my friends, and I’ll post a new chapter when I feel it is worthy.
Bret
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Post by iamnobody on Mar 22, 2021 18:18:10 GMT -6
Meanwhile, Kevin talked to me yesterday while I was working in the garden. But did you talk to Kevin and stress he needs Tammy and not Cindy?
There is a "Cindy" where I work. She is high maintenance and is married. In the 5 years she has been there she has had 5 affair with guys that work there. She is very open about it and doesn't try to hide it.
No, I was not one of them.
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Post by papaof2 on Mar 22, 2021 19:17:05 GMT -6
I gave up on US branded vehicles some time ago - with the '88 Nissan pickup for me and the '95 Camry for my wife. Got 18 years from the truck until my wife refused to ride in it - she did say "You need a new truck" so I said "Yes, dear" and bought a Tacoma. Got 20 years out of the Camry and replaced it with a Highlander - something easy for old people to get in and out of. Haven't been sufficiently impressed with any new truck since then (13 years) to part with $$$$$ for a replacement. Doubt that we'll ever replace the truck or the Highlander. Putting under 5K miles/year on each vehicle puts 100K+ miles out a number of years ;-)
Besides, I like having "old fashioned" heat/air controls which can be adlusted by touch instead of trying to find your way 5 menus deep in a touch screen to change the fan speed (Chrysler rental car provided by the insurance company while having some rear-end damage repaired): the driver behind me was going too fast and was too close for a 55MPH two-lane road when a vehicle stopped ahead of me. On the bright side, a Deputy was going past us the other direction when the crash occured - no question who got the ticket. No, the shoulder wasn't an option - there was a dump truck there against a tree and waiting for the Deputy and a large wrecker.
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Post by sniper69 on Mar 22, 2021 20:20:36 GMT -6
I have the collection of mostly US cars in the driveway, a Dodge, a Lincoln (an SUV (and no not a Navigator) that is only 17 years old and 182k miles on the 4.6 Liter DOHC V8 ), a Pontiac (35 years old, 60k original miles - and my project vehicle), my sons Nissan (not US), and my daily driver - a VW SUV (built in TN with German DNA ). Personally - instead of supporting the big three with any of their newer models, I'd rather drive a VW or Subaru (both have models built in the US). But that is just my opinion.
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Post by papaof2 on Mar 22, 2021 20:30:08 GMT -6
Both the Tacoma and the Highlander are US production, so US autoworkers can produce a good product - but the Big Three seem not to hire such people - or maybe their design and/or suppliers are lacking...
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Post by 9idrr on Mar 22, 2021 21:20:24 GMT -6
Bret- I've had great luck with all my Fords, but the newest was a 1990. That said, I think that were I in your shoes I'd have that letter in the mail tomorrow. Please keep us abreast of the situation, as there'd been some discussion here at out house of lookin' at a new Bronco. If Ford won't give you satisfaction, I may have to look elsewhere. No sense in spendin' the kind of money Ford wants for their cars if they ain't gonna stand behind 'em. We might as well look for an older one like the '70 and '71 we had. They've gotten pretty expensive, but the values are only goin' up. A new Bronco is only gonna depreciate. Hope to hear they've done right by you. And since you're goin' through all this, I won't threaten to get out the voodoo doll for a good while, maybe even a day or so if there're no new chapters.
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Post by boomerweps on Mar 23, 2021 9:22:20 GMT -6
Send the letter. I had a few thousands worth of work paid by Ford out of warranty. 1998 Expedition aluminum heads with cast iron exhaust manifolds rot the mating surface. Had one done under 36,000 miles second one at a our 40,000 miles. Worst case, Ford does nothing. Find an independent mechanic, have him install a junkyard replacement engine with a new timing belt installed. I cannot see it costing over $3000. The Ford dealer is talking engine replacement from the valves impacting the cylinder piston heads.
Actually send several copies. One to Ford service, one to Ford sales, one to Ford cars (or similar), maybe more, all will include Vice President of XXXXXX of North America. I sent out like seven to fight a denial to replace my Explorers bent bumper middle section under bumper to bumper warranty. Tried to say I was towing over the recommended weight for my configuration, near 3000#, but the bumper was clearly stamped 3500# tow rating. Manual 4.0 without factory tow package, 2000#. With automatic, still no tow package 3500#. Should have had them replace the whole bumper. Got calls from several secretaries for details and getting it fixed.
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Post by solo on Mar 23, 2021 10:09:30 GMT -6
Send the letter. That is way too low mileage to lose a timing belt, I think. I gave up on the American brand a while back. I got left on the side of the road one too many times. We have been a toyota family ever since. I have had multiple cars go over 200K and one, A sienna go over 300K. We put a lot of miles on our vehicles but keep them maintained. We have never had one leave us stranded, unless it was something we did stupid, like ignore the gas light. When my 2007 Prius with 206k miles got taken out by Hurricane Sally, I took the loss money I got and paid cash for a 2003 corolla, with 162K miles on it. That has been my work car for the last four months and I am very satisfied. I am not tied to all the fancy bells and whistles and such. The only other brand I have considered was a Subaru. But never pulled the trigger. It doesn't hurt that Toyotas are built here in the State now, either.
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Post by solo on Mar 23, 2021 10:13:21 GMT -6
PS: your real life stories are just as entertaining as your stories.... LOL
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Post by sniper69 on Mar 23, 2021 11:56:30 GMT -6
Both the Tacoma and the Highlander are US production, so US autoworkers can produce a good product - but the Big Three seem not to hire such people - or maybe their design and/or suppliers are lacking... You might have nailed it. My VW was designed and built in Chattanooga, TN. VW has a engineering/design center there and a manufacturing plant (the Passat is also US built). I've had my Atlas almost a year and so far love it. It is the second VW I have owned. The first one was a Eurovan (93). I sold it at 214k miles and it had only one small rust spot. The only thing that was wrong (and I disclosed to the seller) was the A/C would blow cold for 30 seconds and then blow a fuse. I didn't want to get into that project (I tried figuring it out, but had a lack of time). Since then I did have a dodge minivan that I'd probably still have, but it was in an accident (not me, but a family member driving) in 2017. At that point it was at 208k miles (people were surprised the lack of issues i had with it.). My wife has another dodge minivan bought new (we try to hold on to vehicles, so hopefully this one will last as long as the last one). The saturn we had (an 07 - the first year GM put a GM badge on the side), worked great until 100k miles, and then a bunch of issues started with the expensive issue being when the head gasket started leaking oil. The repair would have cost to much (more than the vehicle was worth). We used it as a trade in for my sons Nissan (the dealership said they were just going to sell it at auction). When we traded it in we were at 114k miles (on a 13 year old vehicle that we had bought new). Personally, I could care less if I ever have another GM vehicle (other than my "old" pontiac). The new ones don't appeal to me. The new Fords and Lincolns are so expensive (any vehicle is expensive anymore - but if I had bought an explorer with the same options as the VW I drive - It would probably have cost at least another $15000 or more). With kids still at home - the mini vans are nice, but there aren't many options out there.
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Post by 9idrr on Mar 23, 2021 11:59:36 GMT -6
Since we've taken a side trip (ha) with cars, just thought I'd mention that within 12 hours of me postin' here that I'd been thinkin' about a new Bronco, my bank is sendin' me stuff about new car loans. Coincidence, I'm sure.
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Post by sniper69 on Mar 23, 2021 12:28:37 GMT -6
Since we've taken a side trip (ha) with cars, just thought I'd mention that within 12 hours of me postin' here that I'd been thinkin' about a new Bronco, my bank is sendin' me stuff about new car loans. Coincidence, I'm sure. Just your cell phone spying on you by listening in.
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Post by papaof2 on Mar 23, 2021 17:05:26 GMT -6
One of those "features" that isn't mentioned about your browser or the router or ...
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Post by texican on Mar 23, 2021 20:55:51 GMT -6
My dear wife can talk about or type about a product and low and behold in a few seconds if not minutes here come the ads.
She is on Faceborg, Twatter and a few specialty sites.
I am not on Faceborg, Twatter or any of got to stay in contact with everyone and I do not have problems with offers.
Texican....
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Post by 9idrr on Mar 24, 2021 19:58:27 GMT -6
I hear ya, Texican. None of that social media stuff in our house, either. My wife and I both use ol' fashioned flip phones with no face-app stuff.
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Post by bretf on Mar 25, 2021 8:01:13 GMT -6
Thanks very much for the comments, everyone.
As several of you mentioned, yes, all guns are loaded. That’s how I grew up and I passed it on to my kids.
Papa, I have a new air rifle – with a scope – on my wish list, but it hasn’t made it to the top yet.
Solo, Texican: I’ll have to check and see what I’ve posted here. I have a few real-life stories that I’m not sure if I’ve shared or not. I’ll see about posting any I haven’t shared.
I hate to see you all hanging, so new chapter coming up.
Iamnobody: it seems there are plenty of Cindy’s out there. I’ve known of a few at work and during my time as a volunteer fireman. I always wondered why I wasn’t targeted but not curious enough to ask. I didn’t want them to think I was interested. I had enough problems without adding those to the mix.
On the car front, I mailed my letters. I also filled out an online survey from the dealership that was less than positive. It warranted a call from the service department manager. He said he’d try to work out a solution to get the car repaired that I would be satisfied with. We’ll see.
Thanks, everyone.
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Post by bretf on Mar 25, 2021 8:01:54 GMT -6
Chapter 14
Kevin hesitated, then returned the wave. Pushing the excited dogs far enough to give him room to drive, he maneuvered the remaining distance to the carport and shut the engine off. Getting out, he waited beside the open door. Jack and Jill jumped down, positioning themselves on each side of him. Their posture wasn’t threatening, but neither was it welcoming.
“Hi, Kev. I was starting to wonder if I’d see you before I have to head in for work,” Tammy said as she approached.
“Hi. This is a surprise.”
The dogs pressed tighter to him and he looked down at them.
Tammy saw his look and said, “I hope you don’t mind. They really wanted to come outside so I opened the door for them.”
Kevin was puzzled. Evidently he’d been too distracted with the guns to check the house on his way out. “It’s okay. I just didn’t want them to run off while I was gone. What brings you out here?”
“I’ve wanted to come out since we talked the other night. As I told you, I think your ex is nuts but I wanted to see for myself,” she said.
“I wish I’d have known. I would’ve been home quite a bit sooner.”
“It’s okay. So, what’ve you been up to?”
“Uh, I just had a bit of shopping to do.” He didn’t know what she’d think of him learning to shoot so he didn’t mention it.
“Hum. Would you mind showing me around?”
“Yeah, sure. But I’ve got a few groceries I need to put away first.”
“Ooh, I’ll get to see what you like to eat. Since we’ve seen each other’s underwear, it’ll almost be like we’re dating.”
“Uhhh,” Kevin said, blushing. He reached into the truck for the grocery bags.
Tammy smiled and asked, “Can I help you with that?”
“Naw, I’ve got it,” he said, making sure the shotgun was out of view.
She walked close beside him as he headed for the house. As close as she could, anyway, with the dogs between them. Kevin missed the look of distaste she shot them.
He pushed the door open and stepped back. “After you.”
She smiled and said, “Always a gentleman.”
Tammy stopped inside the Spartan living room, looking around. “I know you said your ex pretty much cleaned you out, but, wow.” The only furniture was a lawn chair.
Kevin shrugged and led the way to the kitchen.
“This is a little better, but still a definite bachelor pad,” Tammy said. “And it looks like you’re quite the reader.” She moved to the card table and looked through the stack of books. “Hum, not exactly romance novels, here, Kev.”
“Nope.” He’d set the shopping bags on the counter and was digging through for anything that needed to go in the refrigerator.
Tammy continued to look through the reference material, opening the file folder. One line piqued her interest. “In your preparing for bad times, do you have guns, Kev?”
“Well, you know I plan on getting chickens. The last time I had some, a fox or something got them. I thought it’d be a good idea to have shotgun to protect them.”
She nodded and went to the counter. “What’s with the can?”
Kevin glanced to what she was looking at. He’d gotten some aluminum beverage cans and cleaned them. Then he’d made a vertical cut in each, followed by cuts at the top and bottom, cutting half way around the cans. After he’d bent the flaps out, he’d put tea candles inside. “Oh, that’s a reflector for the light. It sends a lot more light out the front from the candle than just the candle by itself.”
“Hum,” she said, and started pulling items out of the bag, setting them where Kevin could reach to put them away. “It looks like you really like beans and rice.”
Kevin shrugged. “Together, they make a great protein. They store a long time without refrigeration, and they cost pennies compared to meat-based protein.”
“If you say so. But I like a nice piece of meat on occasion.”
Kevin looked up, wondering if the statement was meant to contain the double meaning he heard.
Tammy took three steps, stopping just in front of him. She reached out, just in time for the dogs to force their way between them. Pursing her lips, Tammy extended her arm to the cabinet behind his head. It was tough, the dogs making the reach longer than she wanted. “Are your glasses in here? I’m parched.”
“Oh, sorry,” Kevin said, turning away from her and getting a glass before she could grasp one. He got a bit of distance between them when he stepped to the sink and filled it. Holding it out to her, she reached to take it, resting her fingers on his.
Kevin froze. Jill took that moment to lean heavily against his legs. Jack ran to the door, turned to look back at him, whined and barked. Breaking free of the spell he’d fallen under, he said, “Oh, uh, Jack needs to go out.”
“It’s just as well,” Tammy snapped. “I should be going to work.”
“Oh. So, if not sooner, will I see you Wednesday at the laundromat?”
“That would be nice. Just the two of us.”
Kevin held the door as she went to her car. He could tell she was in a huff but didn’t know what’d caused it. He looked down at his dogs, shaking his head. “I admit, I don’t understand women. If you guys can help me out, I’d appreciate it.”
Resigned to the fact he’d never understand, he got the guns from the truck and put them in his bedroom. Then, he his took his gloves and tools, and headed for the chicken house. He worked steadily, running the scenario through his head, over and over. No closer to understanding, he was jerked from his thoughts by a purring feminine voice.
“Hi neighbor. It’s nice to see you again,” Cindy said.
He looked up and froze at the sight. In place of the tight yoga tights she’d worn before, she had a skin tight pair of shorts, revealing every inch of her shapely, tanned legs. Her impressive chest was partially encased in a tube top. He gulped.
Cindy turned slowly, revealing her back and visible butt cheeks.
The shorts were very short and tight, indeed. He gulped again.
“Whatcha doing? Remodeling?” she asked after facing him again.
He shook his head, trying to clear his mind enough to give a coherent answer. “I’m going to be getting chickens. I’m making the pen so predators can’t get in.”
“Ooh, so you can fix things. I like a man who’s good with his hands.” She looked at his hands, then moved her right hand down.
Kevin was transfixed as he watched her hand lightly run back and forth on one of those incredible legs. It traced the line where the tight cloth met the flesh.
Aware of the impact, she smiled, then brought him back. “We’re doing a remodel, too. Maybe you can come over when it’s finished and I can show you around. The master bedroom will be incredible.”
Unable to think, he mumbled something unintelligible.
“Hey Cindy, c’mon babe, let’s hit it,” a man called from the neighbors’ house.
“Aww, it’s Charley. I’ve got to go but I’ll see you again soon.”
Kevin watched her swaying backside as she left. “Whew,” he said, and wiped his brow. He picked up the shovel and started digging. It was a good thing it wasn’t a power tool or a hammer. Not with the state his mind was in. He would’ve hurt himself for sure.
#
Despite his best intentions when he’d started the day, the chicken pen wasn’t finished when diminishing light forced him to stop working. He’d been too distracted after the visits from Tammy and Cindy. Standing back, he studied what he’d accomplished and what remained. One more hour, he thought, and he’d be ready for his next project.
The remaining workers left the neighbors’ house as he stored his tools and materials inside the hen house. He found himself staring at the home, thinking of Cindy. Jack nuzzled him on the leg and Jill whined. “Sorry, guys, I’m a little distracted. But you’re right, it’s past suppertime.”
When he’d fed the dogs and had his meal, Kevin went to his son’s former bedroom. It’d become his storage room. Located on the north side of the house, he could shut off the heat vent, and it stayed fairly cool. He located a box of pint canning jars and took them to the sink. With the sink full of sudsy water, he washed his few dishes and the jars.
His plans for the morning were to finish the chicken pen, then pick the peas before starting the irrigation water in the garden. While the water flowed, he’d shell the peas, and hopefully, have enough to can.
#
The day was going according to plan, with no womanly distractions. Admiring his work, Kevin was satisfied that his future hens would be safe from predators. Nodding his head, he gathered his tools, left over wire, and the cut-off pieces. The job wouldn’t be finished until they were all in their proper places.
The peas had done well, and in a short time, he had a two-gallon bucket brimming with the bounty. Many more yet to mature pods remained. He normally picked peas three times before they were spent. Two gallons for the first picking seemed good but he wasn’t sure. He couldn’t remember how it compared to other years or what the true yield would be once the peas were shelled. A vision of jars full of freshly canned peas filled his mind as he got the water flowing.
Kevin arranged the bucket of peas, a bucket for the pods, and another bucket for the shelled peas around his lawn chair. He sat and started to shell. The pods, which he’d always put back in the garden for compost would be saved this time. In one of the websites he’d visited, a woman had posted about making broth from the pods. It seemed simple enough; put the pods in a large pot, cover with water, add a bit of salt and a chopped onion, and then simmer for at least 25 minutes. Then the pods could go to the garden.
The dogs were sitting at attention on each side of him, certain whatever he was doing was related to food. Jill whined and a line of drool ran from Jack’s mouth.
“You two are pitiful,” he said, but tossed an unshelled pod to each of them.
When all the peas were shelled, he looked in the bucket with mixed feelings. Although he had a decent quantity, maybe eight cups, it didn’t seem like it’d be worthwhile to can them. In the past, he’d just frozen what he wouldn’t eat fresh in a couple of meals. Now, though, he thought he needed to dehydrate them. If he only had a dehydrator.
It was a moment of realization he’d never considered before. If he was going to grow and preserve all the food he needed to live on, he’d need to grow a lot more. “Wow. And some of those websites and stories make it seem so simple. This’ll darn near have to be a second-full time job.” He had new respect for his grandparents.
He puzzled over drying the peas as he changed the irrigation water to a different section of the garden. A post he’d read online came back to him and he decided it was the ticket. Backing the pickup out of the carport, he parked it so it would get direct sunshine. For racks, he pulled the screens off the kids’ former windows. He washed the screens and put them in the cab of the truck, suspended by small boards running from the seat back to the dashboard.
Maybe at lunch time tomorrow, he’d be able to run by the recycling center. It’d been high on his list but he hadn’t managed to fit it in yet. His main reason to go was to try to find a piece of pipe and a cap to make a well bucket. If they had what he needed, it would undoubtedly be cheaper than buying the same items new at the hardware store. Now, he added screens to his mental list, so he could put the two he was using back on the windows if he located some.
We went to the kitchen and washed and drained the peas. He’d certainly enjoy having some fresh for supper but he sure didn’t have enough to be worth running the pressure canner. He shook his head wryly as he looked at the jars he’d washed the previous evening.
With the peas arranged on the screens, he closed the truck door and got his new stove out of the back. It’d remained there the day before due to his double distractions. He carried it and the tank to the house and set it up in the open area the kitchen stove used to occupy.
After the pea pods were rinsed and put on the stove to become broth, he went back to check the water. The water was fine as it was for a while longer so he stood and studied the garden. It’d seemed like a lot when he’d planted it, Debbie would be sure to say it was too much. But looking with new sight, he saw how inadequate it really was.
Turning to the dogs, he said, “We’ve got our work cut out for us if we’re going to pull this off.”
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