One afternoon, when the temperature was near 90 and the humidity level was almost as high, my husband decided it would be a good time to start ripping up the old deck. You know, the one we hired a contractor to rip up and rebuild.
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It was hard, heavy, hot work. Which is why we’re paying someone else to do it.
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An hour or so into the demolition, said contractor showed up…
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And was a little surprised the husband had already started the project for which we’d hired him.
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But they worked side by side, in the heat…
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Because no one told him husbands who are bored with retirement need to keep busy.
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In less than three hours…
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All the rotted old wood planks had been ripped up…
Thankfully we didn’t get much of that awful smoke from Canada’s wildfires… but one night the sunset did look a little hazy.
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Bad air quality makes for beautiful pictures.
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Beer number two from Wisconsin was tasted and thoroughly enjoyed.
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Weird Hat Band from Young Blood brewery sounded absolutely bizarre… a pastry sour with peach, basil, graham cracker and vanilla… but wow. It worked. In a delightfully weird way.
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Lord Mountcatten reclining on the new driveway. He’s still hesitant to walk it’s length, but has no qualms about napping on it.
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The husband, weed whacking the ditch from Hell.
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We are currently waiting for the state DOT man to make his second visit and final pronouncement on the future of said ditch.
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Meanwhile.. here’s the husband, caught in the act of throwing a large chunk of tar into the neighbor’s field.
Home repair projects are lining up faster than ever here at Casa River… and if my husband wants to go back to work instead of enjoying retirement? Then I’m going to spend his reinstated paycheck hiring a contractor to fix the things that need to be fixed.
New driveway? Done.
New windows for the master bedroom? Ordered.
New back deck? Materials being delivered today.
And then there’s the disaster we call a living room ceiling.
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The one that’s been damaged by roof leaks for the the past decade.
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( It doesn’t really look this awful, I had to increase the contrast for the pictures)
Thankfully the cause of the leak was finally found and repaired, but it’s left us with a mess that’s been screaming for help.
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Our house was built in 1974 and an addition was added in 1994. This bump out to the living room included a support beam like structure that has been nothing but trouble.
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It’s slightly sagging in the middle and of course it was also water damaged.
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The problem in fixing and replacing it…. is we don’t really know what’s up there. The only access is through a tiny hole in the den closet and though my husband has crawled up there numerous times, there’s no attic and no way to reach that particular area.
After one contractor quoted us $25,000 to fix it sight unseen, and another quoted $35,000 to completely rework the trusses, we despaired. But the guy who will be doing our back deck and windows agreed to give it a go and brought over some fun equipment to investigate.
This required moving the furniture into a pile on the other side of the room which Lord Dudley Mountcatten did not appreciate.
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How can you fling your mouse off the couch when it’s right next to the coffee table?
Oh, the horror.
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The first step was drilling holes in the ceiling.
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Second step… threading the spy camera lens into the holes.
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Third step… trying to figure out what the hell you’re looking at.
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Fourth step… drawing a highly technical schematic.
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The contractor wasn’t pleased with the outcome, something about overlapping beams and braces and trusses … but agreed to repair and replace it as best he could. This will involve an utter mess and temporary load bearing devices which I’m not looking forward to, but it has to be done.
And until that day?
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We have a beautiful Swiss cheese ceiling to enjoy.
Daisies. They’re such happy little flowers, I always smile when I see them bloom. Which is why… after seeing how well this one performed… I went back to the nursery for more. See the monster plant to the left threatening to swallow the bloomer whole? That’s a daisy as well, but clearly not the same variety.
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Bee balm, in bright pink instead of the traditional red. I think the bees are confused.
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Day lilies.
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I planted this flowering bush when we first moved in over 20 years ago and damned if I can remember what it’s called.
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The blooms are positively fuzzy.
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More day lilies.
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They’re such low maintenance things it’s hard not to plant them everywhere.
It was a relatively cool evening…. and even though I won’t be comfortably perspiration free until the mercury drops and the snow falls…. the husband and I headed out to the Barn Mahal porch for an adult beverage.
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I chose one of the local Wisconsin beers our neighbor brought back from her trip. And while the can was artfully decorated with birds in flight, the Central Waters brewing company’s mango wheat tasted nothing like mangoes and was a tad disappointing.
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But the baby chuckers were on the move and we enjoyed their evening antics.
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I believe there were five in this year’s litter…
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Though it could be six because they’re everywhere you look.
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With some of them head and shoulders above their siblings.
Though we have not yet driven on our beautiful new driveway, we are walking on it.
Or rather, we humans are walking on it. Lord Dudley Mountcatten remains skeptical.
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Taking him out for a walk has meant strolling around the house on the grass and then watching him plant himself on the kitchen landing.
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Where he sits and stares.
Until yesterday…
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When he finally decided to investigate.
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Momma chuck was watching from the barn porch…
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As his Royal highness took to the tar.
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Not yet a fan of the new black expanse, His Lordship returned to the backyard and his favorite woodchuck burrow.
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This is a tunnel that runs under our bedroom bay window and I wish I was quicker with the camera because a baby chuck stuck his head out, spotted Dudley and let out a true whistle pig screech.
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As far as kitty entertainment goes, squealing woodchuck beats new driveway any old day.
In case you hadn’t guessed our recent scenic drive up the coast wasn’t random, it had a particular destination in mind.
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The often heard of, always praised… BCB.
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It didn’t fail to impress.
The place is huge.
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As advertised… it’s a giant chicken barn with the bottom floor devoted to a multi dealer antique store and the top floor home to over 200,000 books which sounded like pure heaven to me .
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We entered the building and turned left, happily strolling in and out of treasure filled booths. Husband is obsessed with old glass water jugs, but he already had this one and reluctantly put it back.
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I saw Benjamin Franklin… complete with kite.
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And the type of vintage crank phone I’ve been wanting for the man cave/Barn Mahal… though this one was in terrible shape… so there it stayed.
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The downstairs seemed to go on forever but when we were through with the left side of the barn and returned to the middle entrance to peruse the right side, the temperature started rising. ( Husband is seen here examining a wooden egg crate, but we already have 3… so I said no ) This old building has no air conditioning and it being the middle of summer… things were starting to get downright uncomfortable. For some reason the farther right you went the hotter it got so I was basically speed walking through the stalls trying to work my way back to a cooler section.
And because I don’t need any more vintage wooden crates for my vinyl record collection?
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A veritable mountain of vintage wooden crates for my vinyl record collection.
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And this … because a big chicken barn needs a randomly placed big chicken.
I’m ashamed to report I did not have the stamina to peruse the books. I climbed the large staircase, reached the top and literally couldn’t breathe for the heat. I don’t think I’m exaggerating when I say the temperature rivaled the surface of the sun. Okay, maybe that’s extreme… but honestly, it was unbearable and everyone who ascended to the second floor came right back down. I wish I’d known this before we came, I would have planned a fall or winter visit.
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We took a different route home and drove through one of the prettiest coastal towns in the state, Camden.
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We thought about lunch but the downtown area was packed solid with wall to wall tourists so we just breezed on by….
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With me wanting a hobbit doorway under our porch like this one.
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😊
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Where there's only one step from the sublime to the ridiculous.
