The past week was hot. My fat little body was not liking that weather. Today, Saturday, it is spitting and trying to rain. I have a rain marked for July 8 and 9, sometimes it comes a day or two early. After that date the only thing I have marked is July 14 and 15 as strong wind. Other than that, nothing. As my good friend Charlie Ribey used to say "we would have steady weather" from now on. I never did figure out what "steady weather" meant.
On the home front, my man Jaco has just about completed the spraying with about one tank left. He appears to relish numbers, as he told me he has added it up and that he had used about 5,000 gallons of water. I think that is useless trivia but I didn't discourage him from doing it. I appreciate that he is taking an interest and he does good work. He has no concept of farming on the scale we do here in Canada. He is used to 30-acre paddock. I also don't think he realizes what effect winter has on farm operations in Canada. He currently has an international driver's licence and he is booked in to write the Saskatchewan driver's test July 14. He wants to get his 1A but first the Saskatchewan licence. Then air brakes and then drive for 1A. He will have no troubles as he tells me he spent time hauling grain with a tandem and trailer in South Africa. All this stuff is familiar to him. He is currently stewing because he would like to be done spraying and it is spitting out. He has gone to the dugout for a load of water at the moment.
While Jaco was spraying, I had my other man Sven and the weekend warrior Cole look at the brakes of an F450 one-ton dually flatbed truck I bought second hand. They said the brakes were poor. When they got the duals off I could see why. Lord love a billy goat! Someone, and I know who, had taken the caliper off, they had a bolt blocking the brake line and the rotor was down to the fins on one side. Eyi-yi-yi how did the truck stop at all? We have replaced the rotor on one side and a new caliper we got from Keranda. We are in the process of doing the other side but we have run into tools issues. First the impact wrench is a killer on 19/32 socket not designed for impacts. It died! Then the one half inch extension could not take the four-foot snipe they were using. It died! Whoa boys! A trip to Keranda for bigger, tougher tools! Oooh boy!
The missing bolt was a different story. Keranda didn't have one but Greg knew it was called a banjo bolt. It is about an inch long, fine thread and hollow with a hole in the side to let in the brake fluid. I began my quest by phoning around. I hate this new way they look for parts. It's worse than asking a girl for a date. They want to know the year and model, then the serial number of the truck, by this time I am convinced that this person I am talking to doesn't know squat. It's a banjo bolt! Goes on the caliper! But no, on it goes. Is it automatic or standard? What size of motor, is it gas or diesel, by this time I usually tell them the truck is white also because I realize it is a lost cause. After three phone calls I gave up. The next day I got in my truck and drove to Lloydminster. I drove straight to Midway. Three people were working the counter. I went up to the oldest, baldest guy and asked if he had a banjo bolt for the brake line to the caliper. He said, "I think I do!" He had eight! Five minutes later I was out the door with a banjo bolt in my hand and a grin on my face. I felt so lucky I went and bought a lottery ticket on the SuperMax. We will see how I make out. So far lottery tickets are only voluntary taxation!
This past week I received an unexpected surprise. Colleen (nee Ponto) Williams, Bev's cousin, came to the house and gave me five cases of history books her father Milton Ponto had collected. Both Milton and his wife Dorothy have passed away and the family are cleaning out the house and apartment. I am overjoyed and humbled that they thought of me to receive such a priceless gift. From the bottom of my heart, I truly thank you. They will be treasured.
A federal court has ruled the government's cut to refugee health care as unfair and an outrage to Canadian standards of decency. The court ruling said the 2012 modifications to the Interim Federal Health Program jeopardize the health of children of refugees in a manner that shocks the conscience and is outrageous to Canadian decency. The presiding judge in the case said the government action was cruel and unusual punishment. The federal government said they will appeal to the supreme court. I hope they lose.
What a bunch we have in Ottawa. They cut the medicare for the most helpless and unable to pay themselves. Most refugees arrive in our country with the clothes on their backs and little else. Give them a chance. If there are some health issues, can we not, as Canadians, help those who are down. If you want contributing Canadians, get them healthy, then they can get work and then you can tax them, just like you do all the rest of us.
I am still unhappy with the government attack on the foreign worker program. They just about killed the restaurant worker program with more restrictions coming. They say hire and train Canadians. Where are these Canadian workers? In this area there are none. Now they are after the nannies. I can see the scenario. Pick on one group, then the next, then the next, soon they will have them all. The unions and civil servants who are pushing this agenda should be taken to task. There are no Canadian workers to take these jobs and they know it. If there are unemployment issues in the Maritimes and Ontario, maybe those regions should not be part of this program. Leave the program alone. Quit searching for excuses to cancel the program.
I take my hat off to all foreign workers who have come to the country. You are an asset to the country and we are happy to have you. I like your attitude as you are usually smiling and seem happy to be here. I am sure it is hard to leave behind family and friends and move thousands of miles to a new country, but you did it. I would like to extend a heartfelt "Welcome to Canada." I am glad you are here.
Joke of the week from my grandsons, Victor and Santiago.
From Victor (age 9): What happens when your nose is one foot long? It's no longer a nose it is a foot. Ha Ha Ha!
From Santiago (age 7): What do you get when you cross a porcupine with a turtle? A slow poke. Ha Ha Ha!
