OK sports fans, yesterday marked day three of the everlasting "stump wars".
The ole ranch hand spent another six hours in mortal combat with them nasty, heavy, obnoxious puppies rollin' in the mud/blood/beer trying to get them on the burn pile.
The good news is that I put the match to the pile bout 8:30A and it burned baby burned all day and reduced to some mighty fine coals over the day. The less than good news is that I still likely have 50 stumps left to grunt, struggle, and manhandle onto that burn spot.
I SHALL PREVAIL (this task is not for the faint of heart)(OK, not for 58 year old fat boys either).
Stay tuned for the next exciting episode of this serial listing of self inflicted pain and suffering.
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