Tag Archives: barn

And then there was a floor.

 

Life got in the way of the baby barn floor project for a while, but as soon as the temperatures reached the 90’s again? The husband dragged me back out there.

 

 

Zip boards were laid.

 

 

Walked on.

 

 

Pondered over.

 

 

And taken back up.

 

 

But you’ll be happy to know no toads were hurt during this process.

 

 

The pondering continued for quite a while.

 

 

And yes, coverage was less than perfect.

 

 

But the jigsaw puzzle neared completion.

 

 

And mowers were returned to their home…

 

 

As was the generator we bought 30 years ago, used twice and costs us more than it’s worth to repair every few years because someone just knows we’ll need it eventually.

 

 

Of course the installation of said floor raised the level above ground a wee bit.

 

 

So dirt that was hauled to the far reaches of the property had to be returned.

 

 

But by the end of the day it was done and items were stored away.

Until the husband realized he’d forgotten to lay the rubber mats.

We had 4.

I told him we needed at least 4 more and they’d have to be cut to fit.

 

 

Which is when he took everything out of the barn, laid 4 mats in the middle and called it good.

 

 

King of half assed projects, that’s my man.

And then there was wood.

But you probably guessed that from the first picture.

 

More specifically it was 16 foot long boards that weighed a ton and had to be dragged out of the big barn and across the lawn with yours truly trying my best not to drop them on her toes.

 

 

Of course it would have been too easy if they’d fit in the 16 foot long spaces. Where’s the fun in that? No… each one had to be measured and cut around the wonky interior frame.

 

 

After tar paper was laid out.

Why tar paper? Because the husband wanted a moisture barrier… but more importantly, because he already had two ancient rolls buried in the garage.

 

 

What was holding down the tar paper as we attempted to fit the boards you ask?

Absolutely nothing.

Good times.

 

 

Was it hot?

A mere 92 degrees in the shade.

 

 

Vintage tools and make shift tables?

Check.

 

 

Did he have enough boards?

Not really.

 

 

Were they all the same width?

Of course not.

 

 

Did he care?

I seriously doubt it.

 

I thought we were done!

 

The baby barn.

It really is the gift that keeps on giving. Like venereal disease, but with splinters.

As you know, the baby barn had a hard packed dirt floor when we remodeled it. It had a hard packed dirt floor when we moved here 18 years ago and it had a hard packed dirt floor when it was originally built sometime in the mid 1970’s …

 

 

And for some inexplicable reason, the husband removed some of that hard packed dirt when he was redoing the frame.

 

 

So for the last few months there’s been a decided drop off at the far end.

 

 

I’ve said repeatedly he needed to back fill that section and level it off, but no.

 

 

I walked out there the other day and found him busy with a shovel instead.

 

 

Removing 26 years worth of hard packed dirt.

 

 

Why?

I’ll let him tell you…

 

 

Good grief Charlie Brown!

The man is a sucker for punishment.

 

 

22 wheelbarrow loads full of dirt dumped on the outer edges of our property line later….

 

 

He had a smooth playing field…. and an aching back.

And I was called in to assist.

 

My favorite kind of sale!

 

When the local nursery has a half price and buy one get one free sale in July?

 

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You fill the back of your car.

 

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Find room for some in an already full bed.

 

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And replant the pots that your resident woodchucks munched to stalks.

 

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Hopefully with flowers they don’t like.

 

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And when the nursery extends the sale to the end of the month?

You go back again.

 

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And cram even more flowers in a bed that’s already full just because you can.

 

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While a red squirrel watches.

When you’re done?

You sit back on the barn porch and enjoy an adult beverage before dinner.

 

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And watch the old doe walk up to have a snack.

 

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Life is good.

Baby barn beautification.

 

I think I forgot to post the final results of all the husband’s  he didn’t want to do it and grumbled the whole time  hard work bordering my garden bed.

 

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And while I’m not usually a huge marigold fan…..

 

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I do like the yellow and orange colors against the red barn, so I filled the bed with them and mulched.

 

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With a baby chucker watching me the entire time. Thankfully marigolds are unappetizing to wildlife….. so he sniffed and moved on.

 

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Viola.

Baby barn beautification complete.

 

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Momma squirrel has not forgotten.

 

While relaxing on the barn porch the other afternoon…..

 

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Our peace and quiet was disturbed by one very perturbed rodent.

 

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Momma squirrel was back and chattering up a storm.

She was scrambling up and down the posts.

 

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Running back and forth along the eaves.

 

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And most definitely making her presence known.

Her memory is long.

And apparently all has not been forgiven.

Well, he thought he was done.

 

The baby barn.

 

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Now that we’d finished the  holy crap did it really take that long  construction and paint, it was time for me to begin the beautification process. This meant doing something with the empty flower bed and border.

The ground has always been uneven there… and when I mulched, it tended to wash downhill. So I gathered up a bunch of the old weathered bricks I love and started stacking.

While the husband was watching.

Best.

Idea.

Ever.

 

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Before I knew it?

 

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He was on his hands and knees telling me I was doing it wrong.

 

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And while I normally don’t react well to that statement… if it means someone will step in and do all the work?  I can swallow my pride.

In no time flat it was being done properly.

 

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As he gleefully pointed out how my eyeballed straight line wasn’t so straight.

 

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Look at him with his little level.

 

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Isn’t that special?

 

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I damn near burst out laughing when he started trimming the bush with a pair of scissors.

Who is this man, and what have you done with my husband?

 

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Be still my heart.

He actually dipped into his sacred pile of dirt that’s been behind the baby barn since we built the big barn years ago and…  look!

He even spread it.

 

 

I don’t mind telling you the rare sight of my husband gardening was positively orgasmic.

While he loves to mow the lawn and chop down trees…. anything resembling planting, weeding, mulching, bordering… aka gardening?

 

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It was a miraculous sight.

 

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Unfortunately it used up a lot more material than I had, so I sent out an SOS for additional bricks.

 

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Next door neighbor to the rescue.

 

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They have a lovely old farmhouse with a huge 3  (4?)  story barn.

 

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Which the husband was scoping out while I loaded bricks into the truck.

 

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She had enough to let us  (and by us, I mean him. All I did was take pictures and moan with pleasure)  finish.

 

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And I’m quite pleased with the results.

 

 

 

I needed a holiday from the holiday.

 

Our last day of the long Memorial Day weekend meant a morning of yard work.

 

 

Tag team mowing with the husband on his new toy and me slogging along with the old push mower.

It was a gorgeous day.

 

 

The pear tree was blooming.

 

 

The mallows I’d planted were thriving.

 

 

And everything had finally turned green.

 

 

Except the baby barn which I decided to start painting that afternoon.

Let me preface this by saying I used to love to paint.

I used to.

Until I had to use an artist’s tiny brush around all the nooks, corners, flashing and crooked angles on that beast.

 

 

 

Did I wear some paint, get covered in dirt, rip my pants, tumble off a ladder and work until almost 8:00 at night?

Yes I did.

 

 

But paint was applied.

 

 

And covered a multitude of sins.

 

 

Three sides done, one to go!