Hello, Lynn is my brother in law. He’s getting a little long in the tooth and has been down in the dumps a little lately.
By Dean Meyer
That got me to thinking about some of the things we’ve done together over the years. Some I can write about. Some I had better wait. I’m not sure about that statute of limitations thing.
Years ago we were looking at a barn a guy had for sale. It had to be moved. They also had a house for sale. Now this house was a big thing. And pretty new. It was huge. With a big rock fireplace and rock wall down the middle. Kind of a split-level deal.
There were several people looking at this deal at the same time. And most of them just wandered around, wondering how you could move this huge house. I introduced my brother-in-law, Lynn, as a house mover. Which is true. Maybe. At least he claims to have moved houses at one time.
This introduction as a house mover sparked a lot of interest. Guys were coming up to Lynn and asking if this house could be moved. Of course Lynn looked it over pretty good and assured everyone that it could be moved. On further questioning Lynn kind of gave a summary of his house moving experience. He assured these potential buyers that anything could be moved. At a price.
On further discussion, he informed them that the hardest item he had ever moved was a swimming pool. Because whenever you went up a hill the water would run out. After that, the potential customers wisely drifted away.
Lynn is a house mover, dirt mover, carpenter, cowboy, mechanic…. Kind of a jack-of-all-trades. He also is a veterinarian. Kind of.
One time he was up at the ranch and got caught in a blizzard. The roads became blocked and he was forced to stay overnight. During the night a neighbor, Einar, called up. He too was snowed in. And had a heifer calving that needed a cesarean, or however you spell it.
Now Anne and Einar had a wonderful set of cows and were pretty fussy with them. You knew they were pretty desperate when they called me. But I was happy to go. Lynn and I grabbed a twelve pack and jumped on the D6 dozer and headed across country for the Bar U.
I think the sight of us coming through that blizzard, on a dozer with no cab or heat houser to shield us from the wind and snow, kind of unnerved them. Or maybe it was the sight of us covered with snow at two in the morning with a beer in our hands that made them nervous.
Anyway we did the surgery. Correction. I did the surgery. The Bar U watched closely over my shoulder. Flashlight in hand, Lynn watched the beer. He’s good at that. When it got down to the last layer, the hide, to stitch up, Lynn offered to finish up. Which I was grateful for. Kind of like a doctor with a closer. Or a baseball pitcher. Lynn stepped in. I took over the beer watch. It just took him a couple of minutes.
You should have seen Anne and Einars faces as Lynn announced he was through and I went to step away. And found that Lynn had stitched my coveralls to the cow’s belly. He’s Norwegian you know.
Get well my friend.