The weather is still cold at night but drop dead gorgeous during the day. Yesterday I helped get the plough out. I was amazed that it had been greased up prior to being put away. No sitting in clouds of rust. Nothing required but a bit of hydraulic oil and a grease round.
I was then reminded that a backhoe that had come back into the yard needed some hydraulic oil and the planetry reduction gearbox oils checking. It had an oil change about forty hours ago but the oil came out like sludge. I dragged it with a magnet then and all seemed fine, it sounded fine but better safe than an expensive rebuild.This is not a simple singleton job as there are three holes in the front of the gearboxes. Fill, level and empty. The empty one has to be at the bottom (JCB are smart, they make it the big one.) but you can’t tell from the cab so I spent ages getting it lined up in the Hi-Lux door mirror. Just got sorted when Andrew returned to do the forward a bit, stop, back a bit, stop, forward a bit, fucking hell, go slower, routine. They spin fast do rubber tracks when you have the machine propped up on it’s bucket. Whoops. I meant supported by certified rigid stands placed carefully under the ‘Lift Here’ marks. Safety gone mad. It’s a digger not a Jumbo Jet. I love machines and diggers are as precise in their build as a Formula 1 car. The tolerances spool valves are machined to are unmeasurable, like ball or roller bearings and many gears, they are checked by comparison not by physical measurement. It’s why we bodgers are so careful and make sure to spray benches and the floor with water to avoid dust getting in these beautifully machined components other folk have made for us when we tamper with them. We know things. We aren’t teachers we are doers.
There is something really satisfying about ploughing. I’m crap at it. I’ve been banned. That’s sad but I’ll no doubt be dragged in for a bit of rotavating or rolling. a pound to a penny that won’t be up to standard either. Andrew says you have to watch the last cutter blade and steer the tractor to that. Smart arse he is.
It’s like being in school. At school I found most teachers so boring they made watching rain on the classroom window exciting. I understand that after the war education was thought important, we did not want the fascists and the royal family and their ilk being in charge. We had mechanics institutes and in such a miner at Eyam mechanics taught me to use a theodolite. Brilliant but then the ruling classes made teaching a profession. That worked fine. No it didn’t, Teachers were targeted as so conservative a class that for the most part they have never had the bottle to shift from pupil to teacher, it was a gradual metatamorphis for them. Chalk monitor, milk monitor, prefect, Boss. Just like society organised but smaller not their fault just how they are made.
Claire was a teacher but through dint of hard work and disillusion re-trained as a camera lady. She brung me a big Sony camera and a box to pop what I pointed it at in. They are called NG….summats. Lovely bit of kit, te camera. Claire is middling. This oneisned to shoot 4K from the shoulder but does not have IS on it. Claire did bring one with EF mounts. Lovely girl. Here is a still of Buzzards over the ploughed field. Just buzzards really. No field. It is a big lump of kit but I have persevered all day and learnt a fair bit. Always point away from the light you Muppet. I learn after a slap.
I know it’s not birder standard but it is a Buzzard.
See another. There are lots of them round here and \i could zoom these in but there is nothing worse than a pixalated image
I was then reminded that a backhoe that had come back into the yard needed some hydraulic oil and the planetry reduction gearbox oils checking. It had an oil change about forty hours ago but the oil came out like sludge. I dragged it with a magnet then and all seemed fine, it sounded fine but better safe than an expensive rebuild.This is not a simple singleton job as there are three holes in the front of the gearboxes. Fill, level and empty. The empty one has to be at the bottom (JCB are smart, they make it the big one.) but you can’t tell from the cab so I spent ages getting it lined up in the Hi-Lux door mirror. Just got sorted when Andrew returned to do the forward a bit, stop, back a bit, stop, forward a bit, fucking hell, go slower, routine. They spin fast do rubber tracks when you have the machine propped up on it’s bucket. Whoops. I meant supported by certified rigid stands placed carefully under the ‘Lift Here’ marks. Safety gone mad. It’s a digger not a Jumbo Jet. I love machines and diggers are as precise in their build as a Formula 1 car. The tolerances spool valves are machined to are unmeasurable, like ball or roller bearings and many gears, they are checked by comparison not by physical measurement. It’s why we bodgers are so careful and make sure to spray benches and the floor with water to avoid dust getting in these beautifully machined components other folk have made for us when we tamper with them. We know things. We aren’t teachers we are doers.
There is something really satisfying about ploughing. I’m crap at it. I’ve been banned. That’s sad but I’ll no doubt be dragged in for a bit of rotavating or rolling. a pound to a penny that won’t be up to standard either. Andrew says you have to watch the last cutter blade and steer the tractor to that. Smart arse he is.
It’s like being in school. At school I found most teachers so boring they made watching rain on the classroom window exciting. I understand that after the war education was thought important, we did not want the fascists and the royal family and their ilk being in charge. We had mechanics institutes and in such a miner at Eyam mechanics taught me to use a theodolite. Brilliant but then the ruling classes made teaching a profession. That worked fine. No it didn’t, Teachers were targeted as so conservative a class that for the most part they have never had the bottle to shift from pupil to teacher, it was a gradual metatamorphis for them. Chalk monitor, milk monitor, prefect, Boss. Just like society organised but smaller not their fault just how they are made.
Claire was a teacher but through dint of hard work and disillusion re-trained as a camera lady. She brung me a big Sony camera and a box to pop what I pointed it at in. They are called NG….summats. Lovely bit of kit, te camera. Claire is middling. This oneisned to shoot 4K from the shoulder but does not have IS on it. Claire did bring one with EF mounts. Lovely girl. Here is a still of Buzzards over the ploughed field. Just buzzards really. No field. It is a big lump of kit but I have persevered all day and learnt a fair bit. Always point away from the light you Muppet. I learn after a slap.
I know it’s not birder standard but it is a Buzzard.
See another. There are lots of them round here and \i could zoom these in but there is nothing worse than a pixalated image
Sometimes I like being pixalated. Plough vrs plow had me thinking of GB Shaw. Loved your post today.
ReplyDeleteBill, spelling has never been my forte but I am encouraged when I read American English. It's so much simpler to write plow or ankor.
DeleteI am always grateful there was a technical school when I reached 11. As well as the usual history, geography, English, maths, physics and chemistry we had three full afternoons a week, one each for woodwork, metalwork and brickwork plus technical drawing. The O Level metalwork practical exam was crafty. We were given a blueprint of a simple lock and key to make. Mine matched the blueprint but wouldn't work. Most altered theirs to make it work. I left it as designed and passed so I guess it was as much a test of following instructions as anything else.
ReplyDeleteJohn, education needs tackling with a broad brush. My son had a pretty grim education and though mine wasn't pleasant it did provide a basic grounding and curiosity.
DeleteIt will be a few months before there is any plowing here. Your winter weather is more like our autumn. We are weeks behind your weather.
ReplyDeleteMarie, we do have a temperate climate. The east coast is a bit colder and dryer but not much.
DeleteI love the sense of freedom that these photos portray. Just lovely.
ReplyDeleteYes it's been very peaceful here.
DeleteAs a child I loved to sit on a tractor with an uncle (whichever one would allow me there) while they ploughed. Loved it. Later in life, one of my favourite farm tasks was turning the hay. There's something about the steadiness of it all! Your sky doesn't look all that warm just yet.
ReplyDeletePauline, it has been cold but there has been much less rain lately. I like driving machines but it does take concentration.
DeleteI'm sorry Adrian I'm chuckling away at the fact you're banned from the ploughing duties, the livestock can rest easy :-)
ReplyDeleteDouglas, they may let me do the margins.
DeleteI love the smell of soil, freshly turned over, comes from my time on the building site digging out the footings.
ReplyDeletepeter
Peter, the top half inch was frozen but still smells wonderful.
DeleteAt least I can rest easy that I won't be bumped into by you with a tractor and plough heading wrong-way down the motorway, Adrian! ;-}
ReplyDeleteAre you sure they're not vultures?
Best wishes - - - Richard
Richard, now you cast doubt they could be. They definitely aren't pigeons.
Deletefredelige bilder, det liker jeg :-)
ReplyDeleteJeg er enig, fredelig er bra.
DeleteI'm trying to catch up with a few blogs and this one was reminiscent of some of your early ones and, as always, a good read. I even understood some of the words: muppet for instance.
ReplyDeleteGraham. I wrote it and I don't understand the words.
DeleteBuen cielo azul !!
ReplyDeleteUn abrazo
Laura, una pequeña nube, pero muy bueno para ver el cielo.
Delete