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[RC] For the Ladies - rackinfool

Since it is a holiday and the lists are somewhat quiet, I have a story to tell.
I am sure I am not unique in what I have to say, but I am equally sure I am not the only "jonnie come lately to realize this"
So for my uniformed sisters, and the dudes that I like that may not be on to it, here it goes.....
Girls, know how to get your "significant other" to do all your horsey stuff? Not clean tack, or groom, that is easy, but to clean the stalls, the pastures, move hay, fill in pot holes, trench, mow the weed infested fields?.........
Buy the guy a tractor! DANG........I should have done this 15 years ago. Thanks to DeAnn Schnepple, who was wiser than me and bought her hubby a tractor, then had to shame me because all I have done is "talk" about wanting one, so to keep up with the Schnepples and to beat out my neighbor I did some home work, went on my own to the New Holland Dealership and bought hubby a hellava tractor and implements.
It was a surprise for his upcoming birthday, and for that matter, every birthday for the rest of his life. He was truly surprised when it was delivered.
Well, he had forgotten about his "train" project, and his telephone company. And when I say this, I mean not an HO scale Train, he is building the real Mc Coy, two semaphores, a search light that will beam to Mars before it leaves, crossing arm, wig wag, and all this junk is going to actually work, he has all the mechanics for it too.
And the phone company is an antique switching station that he made three trips to Wisconsin to an old phone company and brought back all the goods that clutter up my beautiful horse ranch. It also is going to work off a switchboard in the house. Plus, he has a generator that we could light up the entire valley with, and I ain't a kiddin, it is as big as my Dodge Ram long bed.
Okay, so two members of the So. Cal Pan Am team are going to stay with us next Sunday on there way to Trout, Wa.
Well, this is like having Royalty come to visit. Can't have a pasture full of llama and horse poop. Can't have any algae in the water troughs, can't have black widow spiders peering out every inch or two in the barn.
Just how does one woman get the place as near perfect as can be?
Buy the old man a tractor and get yourself a pressure washer.
Randy is so stoked to be a real "farmer" on his toy that I don't have to ask twice for him to have an excuse to show up Bill, our rich neighbor that doesn't yet have a tractor. evil grin.
We now have a mountain of manure, which I will put a rainbird on, and get nice and juicy with tons of big nightcrawlers like you have never seen, and then make ten bucks a pickup load selling to the hippies that are always pestering me for my poop, but are too lazy to shovel it themselves into their 60's VW van. BTW, my S*~T is all organic, just what the witch doctor ordered.
In the meantime, I am looking very busy myself with my pressure washer. I am going to town on the Barn, getting all my lovely Black Widow Spiders blown out with their webs and chitlins in the sack. I cried when I had to stomp a few. I actually love the Black Widows. I like their MO.
So I am huffin and puffin every pass Randy makes by me on the Machine. Acting like I am really working harder than him.
Pressure washing is a blast......hey a pun again, dang, I am getting to be a punster!  I got my barn floor so clean I could see my puss in the concrete, my kitchen floor should be so clean.
Got all the murkey algae and frogs out of my horse troughs, even they sparkled like fine rubber china.
Even bleached the troughs for the Pan Am team, we don't want anything to happen to those horses, and especially at my place, the house of horrors.
(gosh, I hope they arn't on RC, or they might be passing me by)
All the bird droppings on the side of my barn and all there happy little homes are gone! And I hope they know now that I mean business! I just put the red nozzle on and it shoots a stream up and into the rafters and all the feathers and fur and hay are gone!
I even got behind some of Randy's phone company stuff and couldn't figure out what this yellow "rag" was doing stuck back there.
Being quite the marksman with the pressure washer by now, I angled the spray and the dang rag came flying out, first up to the rafters, then smacking the concrete floor sounding like a piece of leather.
I went to salvage it, and it was a good thing the washer was on and the tractor working. I let out a girly girl scream that would have made the neighbors call the cops, of which I don't need any further contact, as most of you know.
It wasn't a piece of leather, or maybe it was, but it dang sure weren't a rag. It was a petrified RAT!
EEEEEKKKKKKKKKKK! and that is putting it mildly.
But I regress, ladies, every man wants to be macho man at some point, get him a tractor, see how fast your place will look great, and just when you think the thrill is about to wan, you look into his beleaguered eyeballs and say in your most sickening sweet voice........That's okay dear, I know you have worked for 48 hours straight, and I want you to rest. Don't even worry about the lower forty. I will do it tomorrow while you are at work, just show me how to turn the tractor on.
Oh man!! You want to see fear in a mans face, just let him THINK you are going to try to run his toy. And when you are sweet in saying it, he has no choice but to save face and be sweet back and say, Honey, like Emmett in the South, we don't let our womenfolk do heavy machinery, you just go into the cottage and make sweet tea.
Har Har Harrrrrrrrrr. Works everytime. Men are so easy, really.
Happy "Labor" day. yuk yuk

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