Moving Slow
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I worked like a grown man, yesterday.
Pulled about 30 ears of corn early in the morning and shucked those. Helped the fellow scrapping some junk on the old place, load a couple of car engines, a transmission and some assorted other junk. Then one of my daughter's friends - whose husband is currently deploying to Africa - had a minor emergency, so I loaded and unloaded a pickup with ric-rac, then got a yard of topsoil and unloaded that. The concrete and dirt wouldn't have been bad, but her backyard gate was too narrow for my truck, necessitating the wheelbarrow and shovel method.
I'm moving slow today. Laughably slow...
@jolly said in Moving Slow:
I worked like a grown man, yesterday.
Pulled about 30 ears of corn early in the morning and shucked those. Helped the fellow scrapping some junk on the old place, load a couple of car engines, a transmission and some assorted other junk. Then one of my daughter's friends - whose husband is currently deploying to Africa - had a minor emergency, so I loaded and unloaded a pickup with ric-rac, then got a yard of topsoil and unloaded that. The concrete and dirt wouldn't have been bad, but her backyard gate was too narrow for my truck, necessitating the wheelbarrow and shovel method.
I'm moving slow today. Laughably slow...
Shit man, are you trying to kill yourself?
Yesterday I lugged my gas powered pressure washer onto a deck at the back of the house (it's on wheels and they roll easy)... then attached the hose and spray wand, then dragged a garden hose over and attached it, went around the corner of the house and turned the water on, then came back to the pressure washer and pulled the start cord ( it always starts right up on the first pull) and tried to use it but after a couple of minutes I heard a loud BANG and turned to see water flying everywhere and the pressure washer stopped running.
Exhausted, I turned off the water, went in the house and took a nap. When i woke up I went to town and bought a new electric pressure washer. I brought it home and ..... you have to put them together yourself, you know... so I took it out of the box and attached the handle with the two bolts included with my purchase.... then loaded the old pressure washer with the blown engine onto a little trailer to take it away.. as I was detaching the garden hose from the pressure washer I noticed that the end of the hose had a big hole in it, so I loaded the hose onto the trailer to throw it away also.....
Then exhausted, i took another nap...,.
When I woke up an hour or so later, I took a shower and changed clothes, and took my beautiful wife out to dinner. I pulled the little trailer with the garden hose and blown up pressure washer loaded on it and dropped them off at the repair shop I use, and told him the pressure washer engine was blown, the garden hose was no good, but before I could tell him he could have them if he wanted them, he pulled the starter cord on the pressure washer and it fired right up! Then he looked at the garden hose, went into his parts room and came back with a repair part, cut the end off the hose, attached the new end, and said "your hose blew up and the water flooded the engine, but it's all fixed now. That'll cost 6 bucks though......
And all that just wore me slap out.....
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@89th said in Moving Slow:
@jolly said in Moving Slow:
I worked like a grown man, yesterday.
Pulled about 30 ears of corn early in the morning and shucked those. Helped the fellow scrapping some junk on the old place, load a couple of car engines, a transmission and some assorted other junk. Then one of my daughter's friends - whose husband is currently deploying to Africa - had a minor emergency, so I loaded and unloaded a pickup with ric-rac, then got a yard of topsoil and unloaded that. The concrete and dirt wouldn't have been bad, but her backyard gate was too narrow for my truck, necessitating the wheelbarrow and shovel method.
I'm moving slow today. Laughably slow...
Not many people these days who'd put in that kind of hard day's work. Nice job.
Depends on the profession. I can think of about 100k or so latinos who are going to be working their asses off for time and a half in restaurant kitchens around the country this weekend.
@aqua-letifer said in Moving Slow:
@89th said in Moving Slow:
@jolly said in Moving Slow:
I worked like a grown man, yesterday.
Pulled about 30 ears of corn early in the morning and shucked those. Helped the fellow scrapping some junk on the old place, load a couple of car engines, a transmission and some assorted other junk. Then one of my daughter's friends - whose husband is currently deploying to Africa - had a minor emergency, so I loaded and unloaded a pickup with ric-rac, then got a yard of topsoil and unloaded that. The concrete and dirt wouldn't have been bad, but her backyard gate was too narrow for my truck, necessitating the wheelbarrow and shovel method.
I'm moving slow today. Laughably slow...
Not many people these days who'd put in that kind of hard day's work. Nice job.
Depends on the profession. I can think of about 100k or so latinos who are going to be working their asses off for time and a half in restaurant kitchens around the country this weekend.
How many of them have college degrees?
“Cry havoc and let slip the DOGE of war!”
Those who cheered as J-6 American prisoners were locked in solitary for 18 months without trial, now suddenly fight tooth and nail for foreign terrorists’ "due process". — Buck Sexton
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@89th said in Moving Slow:
@jolly Care to share more (or repeat, if I've missed it over the years?)
Back in my twenties, my dad was in his mid-to-later fifties. Daddy and I would start at daylight cutting oak firewood. Dad cut his wood longer than most at 28 inches long. We'd take down a tree with him on the saw and me helping drop the tree where we wanted, using an eight pound sledge, iron wedges and wooden gluts.
When the tree fell, I'd mark out (Daddy was particular, there was no "close enough" for firewood length) and Daddy would start his first cut. I'd try to get the rest of the log marked out, then I'd drop and help keep the saw from pinching using a hammer and gluts. Once we got the log cut out, Daddy would start splitting, while I limbed the tree out. That's usually where I'd get my ass chewed, since I eyeballed my cuts, and 27-29 inches was good enough.
In my glory days, I could swing a sledge better than most grown men, but never as hard or accurate as my dad. My dad could make an eight pound hammer whistle when he swung. What he could do with a 3 1/2 pound double bit axe was damn near awe-inspiring. My dad could split 28 inch wood with an ax, that other men would have to use a sledgehammer and iron wedges to split 20 inch wood. He could split with a sledge and wedges, wood that other men had to have a hydraulic splitter to work. Most of the time, if he swung an axe ten times, you'd have eight pieces of wood from a two-foot block. He could usually get ahead of me loading and he'd stay after me to hurry up, while he finished splitting.
We'd try to get two ricks on his old truck, a '63 GMC flatbad with the V6 that had the syrup bucket pistons. Old truck got about six miles to the gallon, but it would pull the gates off of Hell and leave the hinges swinging. Pack a load, too. A cord of green oak weighs about 6000 pounds. We'd get home about ten o'clock, unload, stack and grab a leftover biscuit and sausage from breakfast, before heading back. We'd get back with the next load around two in the afternoon, unload and stack.
If we had anything left in the woods, we might head back out and work until dark, then unload by the yellowish-cast of the vapor light in the backyard. A good day, with no breakdowns would roll about 15,000 pounds of green oak.
Son, you work like that, you go home and take the hottest bath you can stand. You eat a really good supper and you sleep hard enough that you wake up with slobber on the pillow. I'd get up the next morning so stove up, I couldn't move. Daddy would get up at daylight and work in the garden or what not all day. A hard day didn't even slow him down....
“Cry havoc and let slip the DOGE of war!”
Those who cheered as J-6 American prisoners were locked in solitary for 18 months without trial, now suddenly fight tooth and nail for foreign terrorists’ "due process". — Buck Sexton
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@89th said in Moving Slow:
@jolly Care to share more (or repeat, if I've missed it over the years?)
Back in my twenties, my dad was in his mid-to-later fifties. Daddy and I would start at daylight cutting oak firewood. Dad cut his wood longer than most at 28 inches long. We'd take down a tree with him on the saw and me helping drop the tree where we wanted, using an eight pound sledge, iron wedges and wooden gluts.
When the tree fell, I'd mark out (Daddy was particular, there was no "close enough" for firewood length) and Daddy would start his first cut. I'd try to get the rest of the log marked out, then I'd drop and help keep the saw from pinching using a hammer and gluts. Once we got the log cut out, Daddy would start splitting, while I limbed the tree out. That's usually where I'd get my ass chewed, since I eyeballed my cuts, and 27-29 inches was good enough.
In my glory days, I could swing a sledge better than most grown men, but never as hard or accurate as my dad. My dad could make an eight pound hammer whistle when he swung. What he could do with a 3 1/2 pound double bit axe was damn near awe-inspiring. My dad could split 28 inch wood with an ax, that other men would have to use a sledgehammer and iron wedges to split 20 inch wood. He could split with a sledge and wedges, wood that other men had to have a hydraulic splitter to work. Most of the time, if he swung an axe ten times, you'd have eight pieces of wood from a two-foot block. He could usually get ahead of me loading and he'd stay after me to hurry up, while he finished splitting.
We'd try to get two ricks on his old truck, a '63 GMC flatbad with the V6 that had the syrup bucket pistons. Old truck got about six miles to the gallon, but it would pull the gates off of Hell and leave the hinges swinging. Pack a load, too. A cord of green oak weighs about 6000 pounds. We'd get home about ten o'clock, unload, stack and grab a leftover biscuit and sausage from breakfast, before heading back. We'd get back with the next load around two in the afternoon, unload and stack.
If we had anything left in the woods, we might head back out and work until dark, then unload by the yellowish-cast of the vapor light in the backyard. A good day, with no breakdowns would roll about 15,000 pounds of green oak.
Son, you work like that, you go home and take the hottest bath you can stand. You eat a really good supper and you sleep hard enough that you wake up with slobber on the pillow. I'd get up the next morning so stove up, I couldn't move. Daddy would get up at daylight and work in the garden or what not all day. A hard day didn't even slow him down....
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@aqua-letifer said in Moving Slow:
@89th said in Moving Slow:
@jolly said in Moving Slow:
I worked like a grown man, yesterday.
Pulled about 30 ears of corn early in the morning and shucked those. Helped the fellow scrapping some junk on the old place, load a couple of car engines, a transmission and some assorted other junk. Then one of my daughter's friends - whose husband is currently deploying to Africa - had a minor emergency, so I loaded and unloaded a pickup with ric-rac, then got a yard of topsoil and unloaded that. The concrete and dirt wouldn't have been bad, but her backyard gate was too narrow for my truck, necessitating the wheelbarrow and shovel method.
I'm moving slow today. Laughably slow...
Not many people these days who'd put in that kind of hard day's work. Nice job.
Depends on the profession. I can think of about 100k or so latinos who are going to be working their asses off for time and a half in restaurant kitchens around the country this weekend.
How many of them have college degrees?
@jolly said in Moving Slow:
@aqua-letifer said in Moving Slow:
@89th said in Moving Slow:
@jolly said in Moving Slow:
I worked like a grown man, yesterday.
Pulled about 30 ears of corn early in the morning and shucked those. Helped the fellow scrapping some junk on the old place, load a couple of car engines, a transmission and some assorted other junk. Then one of my daughter's friends - whose husband is currently deploying to Africa - had a minor emergency, so I loaded and unloaded a pickup with ric-rac, then got a yard of topsoil and unloaded that. The concrete and dirt wouldn't have been bad, but her backyard gate was too narrow for my truck, necessitating the wheelbarrow and shovel method.
I'm moving slow today. Laughably slow...
Not many people these days who'd put in that kind of hard day's work. Nice job.
Depends on the profession. I can think of about 100k or so latinos who are going to be working their asses off for time and a half in restaurant kitchens around the country this weekend.
How many of them have college degrees?
Likely none too many.
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@89th said in Moving Slow:
@jolly said in Moving Slow:
I worked like a grown man, yesterday.
Pulled about 30 ears of corn early in the morning and shucked those. Helped the fellow scrapping some junk on the old place, load a couple of car engines, a transmission and some assorted other junk. Then one of my daughter's friends - whose husband is currently deploying to Africa - had a minor emergency, so I loaded and unloaded a pickup with ric-rac, then got a yard of topsoil and unloaded that. The concrete and dirt wouldn't have been bad, but her backyard gate was too narrow for my truck, necessitating the wheelbarrow and shovel method.
I'm moving slow today. Laughably slow...
Not many people these days who'd put in that kind of hard day's work. Nice job.
Depends on the profession. I can think of about 100k or so latinos who are going to be working their asses off for time and a half in restaurant kitchens around the country this weekend.
@aqua-letifer said in Moving Slow:
@89th said in Moving Slow:
@jolly said in Moving Slow:
I worked like a grown man, yesterday.
Pulled about 30 ears of corn early in the morning and shucked those. Helped the fellow scrapping some junk on the old place, load a couple of car engines, a transmission and some assorted other junk. Then one of my daughter's friends - whose husband is currently deploying to Africa - had a minor emergency, so I loaded and unloaded a pickup with ric-rac, then got a yard of topsoil and unloaded that. The concrete and dirt wouldn't have been bad, but her backyard gate was too narrow for my truck, necessitating the wheelbarrow and shovel method.
I'm moving slow today. Laughably slow...
Not many people these days who'd put in that kind of hard day's work. Nice job.
Depends on the profession. I can think of about 100k or so latinos who are going to be working their asses off for time and a half in restaurant kitchens around the country this weekend.
Oh totally agree, I just meant in general that type of hard work isn't seen as much anymore. Absolutely the day laborers and others like you described work their asses off.
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@89th said in Moving Slow:
@jolly Care to share more (or repeat, if I've missed it over the years?)
Back in my twenties, my dad was in his mid-to-later fifties. Daddy and I would start at daylight cutting oak firewood. Dad cut his wood longer than most at 28 inches long. We'd take down a tree with him on the saw and me helping drop the tree where we wanted, using an eight pound sledge, iron wedges and wooden gluts.
When the tree fell, I'd mark out (Daddy was particular, there was no "close enough" for firewood length) and Daddy would start his first cut. I'd try to get the rest of the log marked out, then I'd drop and help keep the saw from pinching using a hammer and gluts. Once we got the log cut out, Daddy would start splitting, while I limbed the tree out. That's usually where I'd get my ass chewed, since I eyeballed my cuts, and 27-29 inches was good enough.
In my glory days, I could swing a sledge better than most grown men, but never as hard or accurate as my dad. My dad could make an eight pound hammer whistle when he swung. What he could do with a 3 1/2 pound double bit axe was damn near awe-inspiring. My dad could split 28 inch wood with an ax, that other men would have to use a sledgehammer and iron wedges to split 20 inch wood. He could split with a sledge and wedges, wood that other men had to have a hydraulic splitter to work. Most of the time, if he swung an axe ten times, you'd have eight pieces of wood from a two-foot block. He could usually get ahead of me loading and he'd stay after me to hurry up, while he finished splitting.
We'd try to get two ricks on his old truck, a '63 GMC flatbad with the V6 that had the syrup bucket pistons. Old truck got about six miles to the gallon, but it would pull the gates off of Hell and leave the hinges swinging. Pack a load, too. A cord of green oak weighs about 6000 pounds. We'd get home about ten o'clock, unload, stack and grab a leftover biscuit and sausage from breakfast, before heading back. We'd get back with the next load around two in the afternoon, unload and stack.
If we had anything left in the woods, we might head back out and work until dark, then unload by the yellowish-cast of the vapor light in the backyard. A good day, with no breakdowns would roll about 15,000 pounds of green oak.
Son, you work like that, you go home and take the hottest bath you can stand. You eat a really good supper and you sleep hard enough that you wake up with slobber on the pillow. I'd get up the next morning so stove up, I couldn't move. Daddy would get up at daylight and work in the garden or what not all day. A hard day didn't even slow him down....
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Something would break!
In all seriousness, I told the physical therapist I wouldn't be back after yesterday's appointment (shoulder). If I could still motor ok after Wednesday, I didn't need any more PT.
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Something would break!
In all seriousness, I told the physical therapist I wouldn't be back after yesterday's appointment (shoulder). If I could still motor ok after Wednesday, I didn't need any more PT.
@jolly said in Moving Slow:
Something would break!
Nah man, he literally starts beginners with exercises you do while sitting down in a chair.
Writing this down.