Dad always told the story of the old man who homesteaded just east of us. (My family eventually bought the homestedsa fromhis widow).
Phil was a slow moving, but never quit, kind of person. He would leave his tobacco in the house and when he wanted a smoke, he would walk back to the house, from wherever he was on his 900 acre ranch/farm. Dad said he saw him, on a windy day, go on the downwind side of a stack of hay, and clean up all the hay that wasn't on the stack, with a pitchfork. Then he'd carry it around to the upwind side and throw it on top. Most would blow over and land on the ground again. So he would go on the downwind side and clean it up and carry it back and throw it up on top. Again, and again, until as Dad put it, "It was all on top or at least wore out or blew away".
When it was too cold or windy to do anything else, he'd clean his barn and pitych the manure into a wagon and drive it out to the top of a hill and pitch it out. Tuff?????? Tenasious(sp)? Crazy? Ahhh, thats what them oldtimers was made of. :!: