I didn’t have a big to-do list yesterday. Normally when this occurs, I fill in with other little tasks around the house or I plant myself in my studio but for some reason sitting on the sofa and watching tv. Three episodes of Perry Mason and then a handful of Columbo.
I’ve seen them all repeatedly. I know who the murderer is in every Perry Mason and, of course, you know who the murderer is on Columbo from the get-go. Since I don’t have to spend any mental energy on figuring out the mystery, I can while away the time looking at small details and wondering at how the world has changed.
Yesterday what stood out the most was that no matter where Perry or Columbo happen to be, somebody can always get ahold of them. Perry is interviewing a suspect; the phone rings and it’s for him. Columbo is at his dog’s obedience academy; the phone rings and it’s for him. It happened all the time.
Now Perry had Della to call him however the calls weren’t always from her and quite a bit of the time she was with him. Was there a whiteboard with all of Perry’s stops left in his outer office? For many years, there was Gertie who took calls. Maybe she was letting folks know where Perry was?
But Columbo? He was always portrayed as such a loose cannon – if there was some administrative assistant somewhere back at headquarters, it was a highly kept secret. Did he really leave the phone number of the dog obedience academy with someone somewhere?
It made me think about the scene in Woody Allen’s Play It Again Sam in which Diane Keaton and Tony Roberts are leaving Woody’s apartment:
Dick:
I’ll be at 362-9296 for a while; then I’ll be at 648-0024 for about fifteen minutes; then I’ll be at 752-0420; and then I’ll be home, at 621-4598. Yeah, right George, bye-bye.
Linda:
There’s a phone booth on the corner. You want me to run downstairs and get the number? You’ll be passing it.
Obviously these days detectives and lawyers are never without their cell phones, so the whiteboards with everyone’s every move and destination are not longer necessary. Of course, now that I think about it – they probably hadn’t been invented yet?
Do you have a whiteboard? Whiteboard equivalent? What do you use it for?
My car (Honda Insight) is 12 years old. She has held up remarkably well but I wasn’t overly surprised when a couple of weeks ago, I had to push my key fob repeatedly to open the car. But it only happened twice, so then I forgot about it.
Then three days ago, the key fob quit locking. It would unlock but not lock. I tried the old key fob – that one was deader than dead. A quick trip to the hardware store and two new batteries didn’t fix the problem; the internet search listed about 10 possible causes, only one of which was something I could fix on my own. And that fix didn’t work. *&#^^%@$.
With YA coming home Sunday night, I was worried that if I messed around too much, locking the car the old fashioned way, that I might not then be able to open it. Since I needed the car to pick up YA and also needed the car to take a friend downtown yesterday morning, I didn’t want an issue.
Then I made my big mistake; I texted YA about the situation. What I really wanted to know was where her keys were, in case I needed to use her car to pick her up.
What I got was:
Directions on how to change to batteries in the fob. (Thanks, did that on my own already)
You know you have the old fob in the drawer? (Yep, been there, done that)
Why don’t you leave it until I get home. (Really, you don’t trust me to drive your car to the airport and back?)
You know, you can lock the car with your key. There’s a key hole on the door. (I am not making this up).
Fortunately, the fob is now working intermittently so the short-term issue is on hold although I’m sure I’m going to have to deal with this in the coming month. Not sure how to let YA know that back when dinosaurs roamed the earth, the ONLY way to lock a car was with the key in the door!
Did you know how to drive a stick-shift? Did you learn on it or teach yourself later?
Man, it feels like it was a tough week. The emotions are all over the place. We know a person who is a Sergeant in the Minneapolis police force. That person cares so much for the men under their watch; making sure they get rest, and standing up for them when admin says they’re not responding to 911 calls fast enough. Thankfully things didn’t get too crazy for them, shifts returned to normal after a few days, and everyone got some time off. Still, it stresses us out and I have a hard time staying focused and we find ourselves grumpy all day.
As has been said, this is supposed to be our escape, our safe place, our happy place.
So here’s some chicken pictures!
This is a Phoenix chicken we got from a friend several years ago. They’re really nice chickens.
This is Marge. I just made up that name. Go ahead and suggest names for her.
Hello girls. And boy.
I asked the computer to generate two chickens in a photographic style. They sure look grumpy. Next time I’ll ask for happier chickens.
I asked the computer to generate a cartoon chicken..
I’ve been doing a lot of bookwork. And I got a new desk lamp that’s really nice. I have been using a farming specific software called ‘PCMars’ since getting our first computer in 1994. Getting it all entered in the computer is one thing. The other half of the job, after I pile the receipts on top of the second desk drawer, (and throwing away anything not farm / business related) is sorting them out and putting them in the tote that I’ll put downstairs for the next 23 years. I couldn’t get the drawer shut anymore, so I sorted out what I had. Then I can enter some more into the computer. I don’t save as many receipts as I used to, because so much is available online.
I haven’t decided if it’s easier or harder having electronic receipts. Those receipts I move to a file that’s either farm or home related. Then I go through them and enter them into the program. And some still need to be saved, so they go to another E-file. We talked about paper checks on here one day. Kelly wrote four checks out of her home checkbook in 2025. And three were for the bathroom remodeling.
Which, by the way, we’ve finally signed a contract and written another check, to redo the basement bathroom from 1968. So long pink wallpaper.
I know this will be an affront to Renee and some of you, but I picked up two cans of Chef Boyardee Beef Ravoli. Haven’t had it since I was a kid. When I’m out shopping, saving big money, I’m tending to buy more and more groceries there. I bought soup, Spam, and the ravioli. I made soup for supper that night and Kelly asked me how my discount soup was. It was brand name chicken and dumpling, but, it wasn’t that great. Too many carrots and not enough dumplings. The broth was good. With the cold weather predicted this weekend, I may have to make a can of ravioli as comfort food.
One day out in the shop, I made a storage place for my really large sockets. These are 3/4” drive sockets. I got tired of them being all in a jumble in the drawer. Sockets can be 1/4” drive, 3/8”, 1/2”, 3/4” or even 1” drive. I use 3/8” and 1/2” most often. The 3/4” drive stuff is for the big serious stuff. The square hole of these is the 3/4″ I was referring too, and the related ratchet or handles have a corrresponding drive on them. The largest I have are 1&7/8” and 46mm. I have a whole set of standard and metric 1/2″ drive sockets in a different tool box.
I need better labels than the sharpie that was going dry.
Monday is a holiday for some of us. The college is closed. I wonder what I can find to get into.
On Thursday I collected the mileage and hours from vehicles and tractors then put it all in my ‘Yearly Mileage’ spreadsheet. Everything was about average. We used the lawn mower 31 hours, put 43 hours on the big tractor, and 127 hours on the other tractor. Drove the 4-wheeler 22 miles, and put 306 miles on the gator using it 48 hours.
Egg count for 2025 was 419 dozen. 5028 eggs. Plus a few dozen that froze or got broken.
On Tuesday daughter and I took a road trip to Potsdam and Meyer’s Seed, then John Deere in Plainview. And got sundaes at DQ and then back to Rochester for a stop at Barnes and Noble. She thanked me for the adventure.
At Meyer’s the oat seed for 2026 is ordered and paid for, and corn and soybean seed has been ordered and financed, at 0% interest with a 4% savings. (6% savings would have given me prime -2%). $11,700. A bag of seed corn now is over $300. I ordered 25 bags. That’s a separate loan from the $43,000 for fertilizer and spraying. I got TWO free seed corn hats!
You know how you’re supposed to save receipts for seven years? I brought up a box from 2002 and sorted through that. Oh my goodness. We’d been married 12 years. Kelly was making $17 / hour. We had 2 kids in daycare, and $36 in our savings account. I’d get a milk check twice a month. It totaled maybe $2200. I owed the vet $1000, the breeder $500, the feed co-op $500, plus there was always other bills and expenses. I got anxious just looking back through this stuff. Once I saved the important stuff, I took the unneeded stuff out in the snow and burned it.
It was a small fire; not much stuff. And I just used my gloved hand to ‘swish’ it around to get all the papers to burn. Evidently the cheap nylon mechanics glove I was wearing have a lower melting point than the flame of even a small fire. I didn’t get hurt or anything, it just melted the sides of the fingers of the glove. Daughter came over to see what I was doing. I pointed out that she shouldn’t use her hand to stir up a fire. She looked at me like I was a complete idiot. And she basically said, “Well duh!”. Oh good. A win on the parenting front! She knows enough not to stick her hand in a fire.
The wedding we attended on New Years Eve was really very nice! The bride was stunning, the groom looked sharp in his black tuxedo. They were both relaxed (or at least looked that way) and the ceremony was low-key and they wrote and read their own vows and had fun. We had a full three course meal, and there was a live band. I got a lot of compliments on the fact I was wearing sleeves. I did have to dig to the back of my closet for this shirt, and one cuff was a slightly different color than the other. Solved that problem by rolling them up a bit.
For Christmas Kelly gave me this hat:
I picked up oil filters and grease tubes at John Deere. I changed the engine oil and filter in the 630. I was looking in the operators manual for the tractor and realized I’ve never checked the oil level for the transmission. On modern tractors there’s the engine oil dipstick, and then a dipstick, or sometimes a site tube, showing transmission and hydraulic oil level. On the 630, there’s a dipstick for the engine oil, and one for the hydraulics and I remember always checking that as a kid. I don’t know what fascinated me about that dipstick, but I checked it often. And then there’s a check “LEVEL” plug for the power take off. And on the side, according to the book, another check “LEVEL” plug for the transmission.
HUH!
Never seen that before.
I had to scrap some dirt off to find this.
You take the plug out and add oil until it starts to run out the plug, then it’s full. I don’t remember Dad checking that. I’m sure he did, I just didn’t know about it. Now the tractor is good to go come spring.
And the 1940’s music station is back on my car radio.
When you have fifteen kinds of cookies on the front porch during the holidays, you’re always open to ways to spread the wealth. I usually make cookie platters for my local library, my vet and my hardware store guys. It’s fun and between assembling the platters and delivering, it takes less than an hour, as all the recipients are very close by.
This past year, I really tested the Inter-Library Loan department of the library system so I decided that I should provide some holiday cheer for them. I found out that ILL works out of the downtown library (not much of a surprise) and do a straightforward 9-5 schedule.
I spent several weeks waffling about how to get the cookies downtown as I detest driving downtown and I detest paying a fortune for parking even more. As of Monday afternoon, my plan was to take the bus. A long trip two ways but only $2 out of my pocket and the bus stops literally at the front entrance door of the library. I even went to the bank to get a few one dollar bills.
As Monday afternoon wore on, I wavered more and more about this plan. I checked online and found that the library parking is only $4 for the first hour. I even called the library; the librarian confirmed that this was true and that you could park near the elevators and come right up to the atrium. She also said that if you were in and out in 15 minutes, there was no charge.
Of course, yesterday when the GPS got me to the library, that particular lot was full. I went around a two block area about five times – no on-street parking open and all but one ramp had their “FULL” lights lit up. Grrrr. I considered just going home and dismantling the platter but I figured, I’d come this far…. At this point, I was pretty stressed. There were two machines at the entrance of the only open ramp near the library and it took me a bit to figure out how to get a ticket. Found a parking spot near an elevator but when I pushed the door open to the outside world, there was a small sign saying you needed the QR code from your parking ticket to get back in. Luckily I hadn’t let that door shut, so I went back to my car to grab the ticket.
Delivery went really well but when I exited the parking ramp (about 20 minutes later), they charged me $17. OUTRAGEOUS. At this point, I just wanted to get home but my GSP wouldn’t open until I was actually out of the ramp. More stress. The fortunate part was that once I got going in the right direction downtown, I did know how to get home. Even being directionally-challenged.
It’s all I can do to no look up “parking-induced anxiety” on the internet. Not sure if it would make me feel better to know I’m in good company or if it would make me feel any more weird. And we’ll have to wait to see if ILL ever gets holiday cookies from me again. Please don’t hold your breath.
Any directionally-challenged issues or parking anxiety for you this month?
Brrrr. We are hardy Minnesotan’s but it’s still cold out. Hope you can stay inside and warm for the weekend.
Honestly, how did people do it 100 years ago? Or 500? Or 1000??
We have so much to be thankful for.
I got my corn check from the co-op last week and put it in the bank. And this week I paid off the loan I borrowed from a month ago to pay the bills. And the co-op emailed about setting up the loan and credit for 2026 crops. Easy come, easy go. Repeat. I spent some time this week comparing interest rates. It’s kinda hard to find out what the actual Prime rate is. Course it varies by bank and how much money you have. And it was kind of interesting how that works. One of the companies the co-op uses does Prime minus 0.5% until August, then Prime + 0.5% until Feb of 2027. Another company has different rates on some of the products and zero interest on some, but then Prime +2% on fertilizer. In the end, it doesn’t amount to that much money. It would be a different story if I was spending $450,000 at 7.5% interest. (That’s $33,750 @ 7.5% if you’re curious. Now we’re talking real money!) And the government is going to bail me out with the poor prices on soybeans. So they say. I don’t know what that’s going to amount too yet. It won’t be $33,000 I can tell you that. I’ll bet I can take off a couple zero’s there and be more like it. I always say the difference between me and the big farms is a couple zeros on the expenses and the income.
I’ll fill out the forms this weekend and figure out next years crops. Samantha, the agronomist I work with at the co-op sent out a rough worksheet of next year expenses for my planning purposes, and I’ll get things ordered and prices locked in by mid January for the best rate.
Yesterday on the blog we were talking about things from the past. I had a guy at the farm the other day who had a front wheel drive car and was almost stuck on the bare, but snow covered driveway. He clearly didn’t know how to drive on snow. His wheels were spinning and he blamed the posi-traction. I can still hear my dad’s voice “DON’T SPIN YOUR WHEELS!” Our mantra in winter back in the day of rear-wheel drive cars. “Sit heavy! Don’t spin your wheels.” And my family jokes that Dad would say, “NO TALKING! BE QUIET BACK THERE!” I don’t remember that, but I’m sure it was so Dad could hear the wheels not spinning. Shift to low, back up to the garage so you can get a run at it, and don’t spin your wheels. And the guy got out. Our driveway is long and starts right off with an uphill “U”. (So right, “get a run at it” but you’re making a corner at the same time. You learn a lot about friction doing that.) Then you’ve got a flat 75 yards to gain some speed before the next uphill corner to the left. Most people, if they get around the U, can make the next corner. Although there was some days I had to back up 50 yards and get a run at the second corner again. But a front wheel drive car? Dude. Learn to drive. I remember years ago, the guy who would come in to breed the cows. He had a little tiny car. Rear wheel drive. He couldn’t get out. And he turned around and went backwards really fast around both corners. I was very impressed. But he made it.
Last weekend Padawan called me about 10:00 at night to see if I would help pull a friend of his out of a ditch. So I went. Because we’ve said Padawan is our second son, so, that’s what you do for your kids. The friend had a new sporty little car. Still had the temporary plates. Skidded on the snow and slid into a ditch. Another kid who needs to learn how to drive. He was only a little stuck. Pulled him out with the truck.
Haven’t had much time to work in the shop this past week. Concerts at the college, homework, (had the last ‘in person’ class. I have a couple tests to take yet and some online lectures to watch. Last day of classes is next Friday) And I’ve been moving snow.
Our mailbox is out on the highway. It’s on a swinging post so the snow launching off the snowplow doesn’t damage it, the box just swings out of the way. Meaning it WHIPS the mail out into the ditch…More than once we’ve found the mail under that pine tree behind the mailboxes. Sometimes we may not find it until spring. Hopefully it wasn’t the check we’ve been waiting for. There are three mailboxes as there used to be three homes down our road. The third, unused mailbox our neighbor named “S. Lamb”. The sacrificial lamb. Our neighbors are very witty.
The choir sounds really nice this year. It’s a new conductor and he’s doing a great job with the students. At rehearsal I heard him ask the kids, “Are you ready for the concerts Friday and Saturday?” And they responded, “Thursday and Friday!”
“Good. What time is the concert?”
“7:00”
“Good. What time are you going to be here?”
“6:00”
“Good. Saturday and Sunday concerts, It will be fun!”
“THURSDAY AND FRIDAY!”
“Good.”
Clearly, he’s worked with teenagers before.
In my happy place.
HOW YOU GONNA STAY WARM THIS WEEKEND?
HOW DO YOU THINK YOU WOOD HAVE STAYED WARM 500 YEARS AGO?
(Header photo by Word Press’ Artificial Intelligence, version 3 !)
My summer Padawan is always telling me “I asked Chat GPT about…”
I just can’t get over that. He’s asking a computer for relationship advice. I guess it’s faster than asking Ann Landers… And then he tells me he likes it because it’s giving him the answers he wants to hear. Well of course it is! I am just so astounded that he’s taking relationship advice from this thing…and because he’s asking it ‘why doesn’t she love me’ questions, of course it gives him reasons she’ll come back. I told him to ask it ‘Why won’t this girl leave me alone’ and see what it says? I get the typical teenage “Yeah, but!” answers from him.
Man, am I glad I’m not 19 anymore! Mostly.
So I asked Chat GPT to write a blog and I gave it some pretty general guidelines; farming, theater, and teenage love.
It did pretty good! I had to laugh, it wasn’t at all like I write, because why would it be, but it was a very nice short story of “…slipping into a classroom still smelling faintly of hay and diesel that makes you feel both out of place and perfectly rooted at the same time.”
Then boy meets girl, they go to a show, and, “ We slipped into seats near the front, shoulders brushing, her laughter lighting up the dim room like a sparkler. I couldn’t tell you much about the plot of the play—something about family, love, mistakes—but I remember how she leaned in during the quiet moments and how the stage lights reflected in her eyes.”
Oh my gosh. I’m gonna start asking this for sweet nothings to whisper in Kelly’s ears!
So I refined the request a few more times. I asked for more humor and less metaphors. I hate metaphors like a hole in my head.
It gave me this:
Being nineteen and in a relationship during winter in Southeast Minnesota is a test that should earn college credit. The farm turns into a frozen obstacle course, the wind rearranges your face, and every chore takes twice as long because everything metal turns into a hand-freezing punishment device. Romance does not thrive in these conditions.
My girlfriend says we need to “communicate more,” which is hard to do when the chickens start yelling at dawn and demand full attention. She thinks the chickens respond better to her voice, which is true only because she gives them treats and I hand them feed like a government-issued ration. She insists this is evidence of my lack of warmth. I insist it is evidence that chickens are extortionists.
The grain farm does not help our relationship. Every time we plan a date, something breaks. This week it was the old tractor. The tractor has the personality of a stubborn old man who refuses to stand up without complaining first. I spent three hours crawling under it, dropping tools, and discovering new ways to swear. She sat nearby on a bale of straw, scrolling through her phone, occasionally offering advice that made sense only if the tractor responded to positive energy.
The real villain of December is Christmas music. The month starts, and suddenly every speaker in existence blasts nonstop jingles. She says it “puts her in the spirit.” It puts me in a state of irritation that could power the whole farm. The worst part is that she sings along. She sings loudly. She sings off-key. She claims my dislike of holiday music is a sign of emotional instability. I claim her playlist is a threat to public safety. This topic has caused more arguments than the chickens, the tractor, and the weather combined.
But we’re nineteen, so we keep trying. Some evenings we sit in the shop, surrounded by tools, feathers drifting around, both of us exhausted. She talks about her day. I talk about which piece of machinery betrayed me. Sometimes she laughs at my tractor stories. Sometimes I almost tolerate her humming.
Our relationship may not be smooth, but we are still standing, even in January temperatures, even with demanding chickens, even with that cursed playlist. And honestly, surviving December together might be proof we’re tougher than we thought.
Not bad. But I want to know why there are feathers in the shop?? Are the chickens living in the shop or did I drag that many feathers in there on my clothing?? Sometimes walking around the college and I’ll find a dry chunk of “dirt” in the hallway with a chicken feather sticking out of it. Yeah, that’s probably mine. But how did the computer know that?
THINK ABOUT AUTOMATION IN YOUR LIFE. WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE NEVER EXPECTED?
Guess it’s winter on the farm. I even wore a T-shirt under my sleeveless shirt one day.
I don’t think the chickens have come out of the pen all week. They peer out the door, but none of them has much interest in actually going outside. I picked up one chicken that was still living out in the pole barn and carried her back with the rest. And the garage chicken has moved down with the rest. For body heat I presume. Found 4 of the 7 chicks. It’s unfortunate it worked out the way it did for them. I’d have liked them to get a little bigger, or the weather to stay a little warmer, or momma to take a little more care of them a little longer. Any of those options would have served them better.
I got the starter put back on my 630 tractor and it started right up. I can’t get over how quiet it is now. Evidently having a hole and crack in the exhaust manifold is like a hole in your muffler. It’s surprisingly loud. And repairing it was very educational and gave me a great feeling of accomplishment. My dad would be so pleased. That thing has been cracked and loud for as long as I can remember. For a tractor from 1959, it’s getting some much needed attention.
I’m still working on some cosmetic repairs. I have new screens for the front grill and I picked up a cheap spot welder to repair part of the hood. Welding class from 12th grade comes through again!
Dad must have run into something to dent it and break off all the welds on one side. And now I need to figure out how to fit this straight piece of corrugated screen into the slots and curves on the corners.
I know it bends, it is just a matter of fitting it all together.
I worked on it for a while one night and decided this was something to ponder and come back too. The dogs all run into the shop and get a drink, and I played ball with Luna while Bailey gets in my face. Humphrey likes having a warm place to lie down and he’s happy. But the others get bored after a bit and Bailey pee’s on the floor and out they go. Kelly lets them back into the house. Out in the shop is my happy place. Have I mentioned that? As I closed the toolbox and turned off the lights, I thought to myself, this has been 35 years in the making. We took over the farm when we got married, 35 and a half years ago. And I’ve been collecting or buying tools and gaining experience since then. If I had it sooner, I wouldn’t appreciate this so much. Or I’d want something bigger.
=====================
At the college I’m getting ready for Holiday Concerts next week. My friend Paul is designing again, so it’s fun to have him back in the shop.
I added a few more LED lights over the stage. Just some plain LED wash lights. They don’t move or wiggle, they just change colors. Over the stage are pipes called ‘battens’ and they’re all counter weighted so they’re balanced as they come up and down. Called “flying in or out”. Our stage has 19 battens. Three are for lighting (called ‘Electrics 1,2 and 3′ front to back). Several are curtains, and some are open to hang scenery. The counterweight is achieved using metal bricks that weigh about 15.5 pounds. We add or subtract them to balance whatever is hanging. When I added the lights to the 1st Electric, I had to add 8 more bricks. This is the main lighting batten. I counted 58 bricks. 899 pounds. This batten is rated for 1000 lbs.
These are the counter weight bricks. The yellow brick is empty base weight.
The First Electric and it’s 23 various lights.
*********************************************
I read an article in a farm magazine recently about the next generation of autonomous farm equipment. The technology is out of testing and is available for sale.
A little background: As with all technology, this has been coming for a few years. First it was the GPS mapping. Then row sensors so machinery could follow the rows by themselves. Then the machinery started to incorporate the equipment and technology to put all this together and the tractor could follow a line through the field. Then it was automated so that the tractor could raise and lower an implement, slow down at the ends, and all the driver had to do was make the corner, find the next line and hit ‘Go’. From there, multiple implements or tractors could talk to each other. The tractor could pull up next to the combine, and the combine would take control of the tractor and unload at a constant speed. So simply removing the driver really wasn’t that big of a leap, it was kind of the next logical step. That said, I’m not sure I’m ready for a driverless car yet.
This information is from an article in Successful Farming Magazine from November of 2025, called ‘How Farmers Are Using Autonomous Equipment to Do More with Less’. It cites labor shortages, changing weather conditions meaning smaller productivity windows, or maybe just not having enough time in the day to get it all done. Some of the jobs open to autonomy are planting, spreading fertilizer, tillage, or pulling grain carts.
Wanna know what it costs?
There are two big companies: John Deere and AGCO. John Deere doesn’t list prices.
AGCO:
Capabilities: grain cart duties and tillage; planned for 2026
Compatibility: AGCO and PTx’s OutRun system is compatible with 2014 or newer John Deere 8R tractors. Compatibility with Fendt tractors is to begin in 2026.
OutRun for tillage has a $54,000 one-time hardware cost and a $9,000 annual recurring payment; OutRun for grain cart has a $55,000 one-time hardware cost and a $15,000 annual recurring payment.
If using the same tractor and base OutRun Intelligence kit for both grain cart and tillage, it has a $65,900 one-time hardware cost and a $15,000 annual recurring payment.
Carbon Robotics:
Capabilities: tillage, mulching, mowing, and LaserWeeder
Compatibility: Carbon ATK is compatible with John Deere 6R, 8R, 8RT, and 8RX model tractors. Installation takes under a day, with no permanent modifications. Carbon ATK is a $60,000 one-time add-on kit that Carbon comes out and installs.
John Deere:
No price listed
Sabanto:
Capabilities: mowing and seeding
Compatibility: The Sabanto autonomous kit is compatible with 2015–2024 Kubota M5 Series tractors; 2015–2024 John Deere 5E, 5M, and 6E Series tractors; and Fendt 700 Vario tractors. The kit costs $70,000, and is available on cab and open-station models.
First off, I don’t even have a tractor new enough to put this on. Second, [Looking at my bank account]… Nope, there is nothing to say here.
It is kinda cool! I can see the advantage for some farmers. Kelly suggested I could have the tractor doing fieldwork while I was at the college. Yep. Suppose Bailey would still get in the tractor without me? From the video’s of the systems I’ve seen, the operator is monitoring it from his phone or tablet. Inside the tractor you set the field and boundaries. Then once you’re out of the tractor, depending on which system you’re using, either you start it remotely and the tractor honks and the lights flash and it uses all the exterior cameras to make sure you’re not around, and off it goes.
If it “sees” something not right, it will stop and alert the operator, who can view the cameras and decide the best course of action.
The former owner of our home runs a satellite communication company that provides TV and entertainment systems to health care/senior living facilities and hotels nationwide. His office is right on Main Street. He and his wife insisted that the three televisions in the home had to stay when we bought the house. They are hard-wired into a myriad of cables that run through the walls and from upstairs to downstairs and out of doors. They also left us several DVD players and stereo receivers.
There are six speakers upstairs in the ceilings of the kitchen, dining room, and living room, along with three speakers in the garage, and two attached to the house in the backyard. The ceilings in the basement bedrooms and family room also have speakers, and another huge room in the basement has several speakers in the ceiling and walls.
The header photo shows the main controls for this sound system. It resides in a cupboard in the kitchen. One can choose what part of the house you want to have sound from the radio, TV, DVD. CD, computer, or any other media player you can figure out how to hook up to the main system. The former owner graciously came over last week to show me how to operate the system. I gave him a package of lefse. It is complicated. I am a successful trial and error button pusher, so I think I will figure it out. eventually.
When did you get your first sound system? What did it consist of? What music do you think we should play on the outdoor speakers?
Thanksgiving will always be a day during which I stop at least once to think about Steve, who we lost in 2021. Steve was the first baboon that I met in person; I’ve read all his books; I remember his horror when he realized he had fed me something with chicken stock. I still miss him on the trail. Here is another of his posts, one of my favorites from April of 2021.
A friend and I used to discuss troublesome issues in our lives. We called them our “dragons.” Dragons are problems can only be dispatched with exceptional effort and resolve.
Few problems qualify as dragons, which is good. Most of us handle routine problems with routine efficiency. Alas, some problems are a lot nastier or complicated than others. Some of us have anxieties that prevent us from addressing certain issues forthrightly. Sometimes problems become entangled with side issues. Throw some procrastination into the mix, and what could have been a baby problem might grow up and begin belching enough fire to qualify as a dragon.
Examples? You don’t gain street cred as a dragon killer for beating a head cold, but beating cancer will earn you respect with anyone. Overcoming any addiction would surely count. The friend referenced in my opening paragraph slew a dangerous dragon when she escaped a marriage that was destroying her soul. From what I’ve read, the nastiest dragon Barack Obama faced down in his two terms as president might have been nicotine.
My most recent dragon should have been no big deal. Last September my computer emitted an electronic scream, seized and died. I had expected that. Computers typically remain healthy and functional for five to ten years. My fifteen-year-old computer was clearly living on borrowed time. I had prepared by backing my data files, although I could not back my applications.
I bought a replacement computer loaded with Microsoft’s Office, a choice forced on me because that is the only way I could get Word, the word processing app I’ve used for thirty-four years. Office costs $70. That is probably reasonable, although it irked me to pay for a suite of ten programs just to get the one program I use. But Microsoft enjoys something like a total monopoly on basic Windows business software.
Microsoft inserts a feature in the Office software that causes it to shut down unless users can prove that they have paid for it. To validate my purchase, I peeled back a piece of tape that covered the confirmation code. The tape ripped the cardboard beneath it, destroying the middle six numbers of a code of about twenty numbers. As it was designed to do, my software soon froze rock solid. I could not create new documents nor could I edit the many files already on my hard drive. Every time I turned on my computer, a niggling message from Microsoft reminded me I had not validated the purchase. As if I could forget!
Worse, there was no way I could contact Microsoft. The company recently eliminated its customer service office. Microsoft now directs customers with problems to some internet data banks that supposedly answer all questions. Of course, the data banks say nothing about what to do when the company’s own security tape destroys a validation number. I learned there are many businesses claiming they can help customers struggling with Microsoft apps. Those businesses didn’t want to talk to me until I shared my contact information or subscribed to their services. Then I’d learn again that my particular problem could not be resolved by anyone outside Microsoft. And nobody inside Microsoft would speak to me.
Over a span of seven months I spent many wretched hours dialing numbers and writing email pleas for help. The shop that sold the computer to me clucked sympathetically but told me to take my complaints to Microsoft. Members of a group called “the Microsoft community” kept telling me it would be easy to fix this issue, but none of them could provide a phone number that worked. While I could have purchased the software again for another $70, the rank injustice of that was more than I could bear.
I finally learned about a set of business applications called LibreOffice, the top-rated free alternative to Office. It is open source software, free to everyone. But people who put their faith in free software often get burned, for “free” often just means that the true price is hidden. I worried that this software would not allow me to edit all the documents I’ve created over thirty-four years of writing with Word. And—silly, silly me—I kept hoping I could find one friendly person in Microsoft who would thaw my frozen software. So I dithered for weeks.
Last week I took a deep breath and downloaded LibreOffice. It loaded like a dream. LibreOffice’s word processor, “Writer,” is friendly and intuitive. Ironically, I like it quite a bit better than Word. With it I can edit all my old Word documents, and I used the new software to write this post.
That particular dragon is dead, kaput and forever out of my life. Other dragons await my attention, malodorous tendrils of smoke curling up out their nostrils. I did not triumph over Microsoft, as that smug firm never even knew it had a conflict with me. Still, I celebrate the way this all ended. When we slay a dragon, the most significant accomplishment might be that we, however briefly, have triumphed over our personal limitations.
Any dragons in your past that you wouldn’t mind mentioning?
Trail Baboon 