Since the wind was blowing 100 KM an hour and with snow on the horizon we decided it was time to find shelter for Rosebud. We started out the day trying to apply tin to our roof but grudgingly we shifted plans since a few of the the metal sheets almost decapitated the horse in the pasture a mile to the east of us.
Grey Beard went down to the river bottom and chopped down a couple of trees. Can you believe an 82 year old is still tromping around the woods cutting trees down? I hope I’m that spry when I get to that rip old age.
I’m glad we don’t live in the city as we may have caused quite a few accidents as we dragged these through town. We actually dragged these 3 miles and didn’t pass a soul on the way to the grain bin.
After jacking up the old grain bin we dragged the homemade skids under the bin.
Anyone remember the last time we used these jacks? A brownie and a cookie if anyone can remember our teetering, harrowing efforts.
These are Grey Beards jacks. I need to get some for myself so I can go around jacking up old grain bins whenever I want.
We tried grain bin dollies but they were too small for this beast. I’m glad the plan that finally worked didn’t end up with me squished at the bottom of a grain bin in the middle of the road.
I would guess this grain bin is 50 years old. I hear these were quite popular in the early 1950’s.
It may look like a small bin but it’s 16 feet wide and probably 12 feet tall.
Here is a funny sequence of events. Our first attempt at pulling the grain bin with the truck.
We gave up with the truck and got Uncle Earl to get out the old tractor.
Here we go down to our temporary pasture with the old bin.
A neighbor called Dancing Queen today and mentioned she saw us moving an enormous structure down the road in the middle of the night yesterday. I guess we didn’t manage to go entirely unnoticed during our whole trip.
We cut open a door on the bin today and will bed it out for Rosebud tomorrow or the next day.
I’m thinking of painting the bin a nice and bright yellow or red and scrolling the word Rosebud over the door.
Maybe I’ll put all the extra roughed up and mangled tin on the top of the grain bin as long as I can find it in that horse pasture 3 miles east of the house.