Cowboy’s out here on my site today.

He’s salvaging some tanks and pipe that the big boss (BB) site manager said we could have. It’s going to be a demolition project, and the less there is, the less we’ll have to pay to get rid of.

He swooped in with the crew of four boys, and they’re taking down some chain link fence right now. It’s only taken him a year to get around to it, but BB was getting antsy. It’s going to be an official project sooner rather than later now, and we can’t touch it once it’s on the project description.

He’s getting a bunch of steel pipe that will be recycled into fence posts for the cow pastures, two big (20,000 gallon?) poly tanks that will be nurse tanks for the sprinkler systems for the arena, some chain link fence fabric and posts, a little pump that may or may not work, and I think he’s going to take some breaker boxes too. BB likes to support farmers, and doesn’t mind that it’s my particular farmer.

I drug Cowboy in to meet BB, as a condition of getting the stuff. BB got all geared up to completely embarrass me with the, “Why aren’t you married yet?” questions, but someone else came in and distracted him and we were saved by the bell. Cowboy hates to be drug into that sort of thing, and BB can talk for hours, so we were lucky with that. After a year and a half, BB was starting to tease me pretty hard about Cowboy’s existence, but see? He exists!

It’s nice having my little worlds collide. Cowboy doesn’t come out to this side of the Valley very often, and has only been to my job site a couple of times. The boys haven’t ever even seen my house.

I have to stay away to avoid conflict of interest images. It is clearly within my scope to coordinate salvage efforts, but appearance matters. Besides, the boys can play horrible music when I’m not around. They’re pretty considerate about changing it when I’m there. I do wish the one would do something about his plumber’s butt though. It draws the eyes like a welding arc—you know you don’t want to look at it, but you can’t look away.

Cowboy got the barn roof finished yesterday, and I can’t wait to see it. They’re lucky they didn’t wait until today, as there’s a stiff breeze, which would make it less than pleasant to work at heights with tin.

Me, I haven’t been doing anything of note—hence the Cowboy-filled journal entry. Seamus has started T-ball practice twice a week, which really cramps our evenings. He’s becoming a good catcher. I may have an athletic boy after all. John stayed in the truck and read a book. Can’t imagine where he gets that from.