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Especially when it’s autumn…
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In Maine…
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And you’re a wild blueberry.
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Then?
It’s downright breathtaking.
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Tag Archives: color
When in doubt, wear red.
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I just realized I haven’t posted a photo of the big barn since the staining and painting were completed.
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Needless to say I’m very pleased.
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The nice thing is, the husband was pleased as well.
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I know this because I overheard him talking to the painter saying he wasn’t sure he would like a red barn and that he’d fought his wife over it… boy did he!… but in the end, even he had to admit it looked great.
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Technically it’s not totally done, as the crew is going to box in the eaves on the overhang. But in Maine, you have to paint until the weather turns, so they’ll be back another day to finish that.
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My porch furniture cushions also need to be recovered in a fabric that doesn’t clash.
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But baby barn approves.
And we have a red and white barn!
Yay.
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Risking life and limb for my blog.
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Never let it be said I don’t put myself in harm’s way for my loyal readers.
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Yes, I drove home from the store one handed the other day just so I could share a few shots of our beautiful fall foliage in Maine.
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We had a very hot dry summer…
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So the leaves aren’t as vibrant as they could be.
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But it’s still a pretty sweet show.
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Minus the spots and streaks on my dirty windshield that is.
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No small animals were killed while I swerved left for that burning bush…
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And swerved right for that perfect sugar maple.
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Good thing we don’t get much traffic on our road.
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Or police cruisers.
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Ah, autumn in New England.
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If you’ve never experienced it….
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What are you waiting for?
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I’m seeing red.
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No, the husband hasn’t bought the contents of that abandoned Victorian up the road….
I mean this kind of red.
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Weeee!
Our first glimpse of what poppa barn will look like when finished.
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The trim will be added after.
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And there’s a lot of it to add.
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But I’m excited to see him finally sporting some color.
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I think baby barn agrees.
And so it begins.
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We chose a local company and our big barn will finally get some color in his cheeks.
An oil based stain was matched to baby barn’s red paint… and white trim will finish him off.
I’ve been waiting 8 years for this… so, yay.
The painters showed up the other day to pressure wash off the black mold. They thought this would be a quick prep, saying it would only take a few hours.
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10 gallons of bleach, one broken pressure washer, an auxiliary pump and 8 hours later…
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They recalculated and said they wouldn’t be able to get it all off as promised.
Which we told them would be the case, as we’d tried ourselves and failed.
But they got a lot more than we managed, and it looks better.
Before :
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After:
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Before:
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After:
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Before:
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After:
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Of course they had to move all the trim wood we’d bought to do the porch, so this is now my afternoon cocktail view.
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Not ideal.
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But hopefully it’s more temporary than my husband’s so called temporary doors.
Colors and critters.
Looking across the street to our neighbor’s organic vegetable farm is always interesting.
But this time of year, it’s downright beautiful.
Who knew artichokes could be so pretty?
And when our neighbor has wood chips delivered….
HE HAS WOODCHIPS DELIVERED.
When you’re a farmer’s child?
You don’t need no stinkin’ sandbox.
On the critter front,
We’re down to one lone woodchuck.
He’s still fat…
And still clumsy…
And still hangs out on our deck once in a while. But it’s autumn, and all his brothers and sisters are finding dens and getting ready for winter. I doubt even this one will be here much longer.
Sigh…
Autumn also means the deer are changing into their darker winter coats. One summer coated hold out is on the right for comparison.
A murder of crows have now discovered our bird bath.
Why are they called a murder?
Uh oh.
And finally, we have a new skunk in town.
I admit I never really paid attention to skunk tails before, but we’ve had so many different families this year I’ve gotten to recognize them by their individual patterns.
This is Tippy.
Brilliantly named for the white tip on her tail.
Is she really a she?
I neither know, nor care to get close enough to find out.
