The barn porch rotted wood replacement project continues.
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Or rather, it continued without me noticing and is now complete.
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(Yes, the left hand post still dips… but that’s a frost heaving, ever shifting Maine ground problem.)
And while my husband used similarly weathered boards…
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They still don’t match the existing and stick out like a sore thumb because he refused to replace the entire length of the boards like I suggested.
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This anomaly doesn’t bother my husband, but will drive me nuts for years to come.
And did you happen to notice anything else amiss on the porch?
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Perhaps the furniture that I had recovered a few years back at a rather large expense?
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A cushion is missing.
As in… gone.
We noticed the other chair cushion had been torn, or more precisely… chewed. And there was stuffing blowing here and there around the bottom of the barn so as crazy as it sounds, we think it was stolen.
By the critters.
Most likely the by Momma chuck who nests and has babies under there every year.
Ordinarily this would piss me off to no end, but I’ve been wanting to replace this set for some time so now seems as good a time as any.
Remember when my husband tore down most of our old shed and rebuilt it without the addition?
Remember when my husband bought an antique wagon and had to rebuild the addition to house the purchase?
Remember when I complained about having a gaping open hole on the north side of the new addition because my husband couldn’t figure out how to build a door on the wonky shaped opening?
Remember when my husband covered the hole with a tarp thinking that would suffice?
Silly man.
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Door construction has begun.
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I had multiple ideas for this.
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None of which were taken under consideration.
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Have you hugged your door today?
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Remember how nothing was even close to level or plumb when the shed was built?
I saw this the other day and had a flashback to my childhood in New Jersey.
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The hand came to life and snatched the letters one by one into the bloody swamp.
Epic. And I was there for it every week.
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For those of you, who like me… comb the beaches.
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My husband has recently decided the wood has to leave the woodshed, the interior wall on the right separating the shed from a storage room needs to be removed and a floor needs to be laid.
I do not expect this project to go quickly or smoothly. Stay tuned.
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Red door.
Since I plan on living more than 3 years. Duh.
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If a cheese fortune teller is paid in cheese? I have the perfect scarf and earrings for the job, sign me up.
My husband says he’s done with the shed extension for this year.
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And as hard as I’ve lobbied to truly finish it with a third wall/door, my pleas are falling on deaf ears and I shall have to live with (though not quietly I assure you) a tarp that covers the open end all winter.
Grrr.
But that doesn’t mean I have to live with raw wood so I matched the old color as well as I could and got to work.
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My husband doesn’t paint.
Or stain.
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Ever.
But that’s fine, I don’t mind doing my part.
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Though I do end up wearing almost as much as whatever structure I’m painting.
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There.
At least it looks little better…
Though I’m still going to ride my spouse to put a trim post on the unfinished rear right edge.
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Big barn, little barn.
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The color match isn’t perfect, but it will do until I can put an another coat on the whole building next spring.